Someone’s probably in love with you right now, even though you think you’re boring and stupid and smell bad most of the time, someone probably saw you last week and wiped their sweaty hands on the insides of their pockets and thought about your body under your clothing and about how you would look asleep in their bed
He held my hand in both his hands, warming it against the chilly aircon blast. Letting it go but not too long that he held it again, this time with one hand, his fingers interlacing with mine.
It was a quarter before twelve and we were still stuck at the bus stop. Thank goodness mom wasn’t home, at least I had more time with him. Rehearsals were intense, I swear I saw him lose his temper, even. But one thing I admire about him is that he knows when to speak and when not to. To avoid hurting anyone.
The walk we took from Faura to Pedro Gil sure did both of us good. With the tour getting ever so closer, everyone is on their toes, making sure everything was going according to plan. Joking along the way, with small talk escalating to quite serious stuff, it was refreshing to see him relaxed. Conductor has gone away.
I was expecting that it would just be another typical ride home, but the time waiting (2 hours) gave both of us a greater opportunity to know each other. I usually did the talking, he’s more of a listener, though he’d always find a way to keep me talking. Squishing my face, singing random songs, poking my fats, it was hard to not giggle at his playfulness.
But the way he’d lean close to me in the bus seat, it gave something away. A small spark of hope that maybe-maybe, the feeling was not so one-sided after all.
Could it be possible that a star just fell down for me?
Till then, I could only dream.
Happy 50th Birthday, Quentin Tarantino!
My dear Psalmuel,
Yes, it’s been a while since we last talked, in fact, it feels like it has been ages ago.
I am proud of you, love.
From the very beginning, you know that I have been supporting you. Yes, even though our relationship had run its course and I had drifted myself away from you, it was the hardest and wisest decision that I have made.
Leaving you was never easy, contrary to what you think.
It was a decision for the both of us to grow into the person we are meant to be; we needed space from each other to pursue our ambitions. And although I know you do not really care much about me anymore, I’m glad to let you know that I’m slowly making my dreams come true, my ambition, and my passion paying off. And I’m equally glad to see that you are too. I have known you better than anyone else back then, that’s why I never doubted you when I found out you were running for this year’s elections. I know that your stubborn nature will let you stop at nothing to get to your dream. And I admire you for that, ga. You know I always did.
Remember when we spent a day at the UP College of Law? I look forward to seeing you study there. And I know you’ll make it there.
As you are now one step closer to becoming the leader you have always dreamt of being, I wish you nothing but the best of luck. Maybe the time will come that we can both let bygones be bygones, and renew our friendship once again. I miss you. I miss my first friend, my first ROTC buddy, my first confidante.
And may you eventually find that someone who is really meant for you. You deserve better and we both know that. But I have never regretted falling in love with you, and I will forever treasure the times I spent with you, my first love.
You have won so many hearts, Psalm, but you have never lost mine.
“Marina Abramovic and Ulay started an intense love story in the 70s, performing art out of the van they lived in. When they felt the relationship had run its course, they decided to walk the Great Wall of China, each from one end, meeting for one last big hug in the middle and never seeing each other again. at her 2010 MoMa retrospective Marina performed ‘The Artist Is Present’ as part of the show, a minute of silence with each stranger who sat in front of her. Ulay arrived without her knowing it and this is what happened.”
Wake up. A fuck-up like you will never, ever, be happy. Because you don’t deserve it.
Wake up, I say to myself. No, I haven’t forgotten about him. I love him, or rather, I loved him.
Remember the past so you don’t screw up the future.
I am a troubled little girl. And I don’t want to spiral him down with my misery. But he makes me happy. For once, he is another bright light blinding me, covering me in his warmth. For a moment, I feel calm. I feel brave. I feel free.
I want to stay this way, you and I. At least this way, we are free to do what we like, free to think what we like, away from prying eyes we are free.
But my cover’s been blown. You’ve probably known that I have loved you ever since I took that bus seat beside you. And yet, why do you enable me? Why don’t you make me stop? It gives me the impression that someway, somehow…the feeling is mutual.
I don’t deserve you. you are a beautiful, beautiful man. A talented, blessed, skilled man and the last thing you need is a scarred lady.
Hope is the opiate of the scarred.