Showing posts tagged Love
Yesterday, I squeezed in the time to check out Gone (2012) which stars Amanda Seyfried. I think I saw the trailer in the movie house when I went there to watch Breaking Dawn Part 1 (or was it Part 2?) and was enthralled a bit.
What’s funny is that as much as I had anticipated it, over time, I forgot about it. It crossed my mind recently and so I decided to look for a copy, ignoring the bad reviews.
I’d rate this 3 stars out of 5 solely because of Amanda Seyfried and Emily Rose’s (Jennifer Carpenter) casting! (LOL) Why? This movie has one of the most disappointing climaxes there ever was!
Anyhow, that framed cork board which belongs to Amanda’s sister is LOVE! I need to have one before this freakin’ awesome year ends! :)
It was the brightness of the late morning sunlight pouring in through his window that woke him. He opened his eyes and his sense of smell, as though its function was momentarily arrested by the sudden rush of consciousness, became aware of the cigarette stench that clung to his clothes which he had been wearing since yesterday. A searing pain in his head made him close his eyes again. Massaging his forehead with his hand, he remembered flashes of what had transpired more than twelve hours ago.
Gin. Cigarettes. Tears.
“I am not happy. I don’t want to be in this relationship anymore.” He regretted the way she said it, the way it sustained a note of finality.
For the past three years, they had been happy. At least he thought they were.
He met her in February of 2009 when he and his friends, adventurous and a little reckless, decided to crash the prom of the only other high school in town. A crescent moon illuminated their backs as they climbed over the school fence. They took their places behind a large bush, huddling like lost dogs, peering through the thicket. In front of them, revealed through a glass wall that surrounded the whole venue, was the prom. His eyes reflected the bright glow that emanated from the revelry inside when he spotted her sitting on the corner by the punch bowl, fixing what seemed to be a broken heel. And he knew, at that moment, that he had to get in.
“May I have this dance?” He asked her a few minutes later, presenting his hands. He didn’t mind the students staring at him for his choice of prom wardrobe—a Metallica shirt and a pair of serrated jeans— nor did he find it uncanny that she gave him an expression of complete amazement which slowly turned to a whimsical grin. She then took off her shoes, placed her hand in his and let him lead her to the dance floor.
Two months later, perhaps brought about by the heat of summer and the nonchalance of young love, they became a couple. They planned everything together, too. First it was just a trip to the beach. Then there was the picnic by the hill. Bicycle rides, aimless wanderings in the town mall, and heady visits to the local theme park. It was only by the time she had invited him for dinner at her home—with her family—that it dawned on both of them that they had become something else. Something more.
The sudden flight of a bird that was resting on his window sill brought him back to the present. He found it pointless, a waste. All of it. Three years of his life invested in a hope of something perennial, long-lasting. Something true. Had he known that a thousand and ninety-five days would culminate in a night of drunkenness and sobbing, he would have never bothered. What a colossal waste.
His futile attempt to dry his eyelids prevented him from hearing the increasing sound of footsteps so he was caught off guard when the knock on the door began.
“Don’t come in.” He said.
Despite hearing her son’s words, she entered inside his room slowly but firmly, carrying with her the chicken soup scent from the kitchen as well as the calm expression he observed she only sported during times when she was about to say something really smart—something only a mother would know.
Downstairs she had been silently making her son a soup. With a wooden spoon, she stirred the viscous concoction as the heat made bubbles rise and then burst. This was her mother’s recipe, of course. The same thing her own mother served her with when she had locked herself in her bedroom after her first heartbreak.
Of course, now she had forgotten the little details—the bullet points of the plot that lead to the ending of her first relationship. Time erases such trivialities, she figured. But not the feeling. She knew what her son was now going through and she knew she couldn’t do anything to take that pain from him now. It wasn’t like a snake fanged venom which she could suck from his bloodstream, nor was it a headache two Advils could easily take care of. No. Her own mother knew this, too, and the only way she found to pacify her then was to warm her stomach and feed her mind that what she was going through was necessary, part of living and part of life. Earlier, before dawn broke, she decided that she was going to do the same to his son.
After what seemed like a full hour, his mom gently placed her hands on his shoulders.
“She left me,” he mumbled.
She slowly walked to the other side of the bed to face him. She stood in front of the window, partially blocking the light radiating behind her, casting a long shadow on the bed which is what he watched moving as his mother began speaking.
“I know.” She said. “I want you to cry until a fraction of that pain that’s in there has left. Drink. Sleep all day tomorrow if you so desire. Skip work. Take a leave. But I need you to remember one thing.” She stopped, afraid that her voice would crack. She closed her eyes, breathed in, sat on the bed beside him and continued, “Do not, for one second, regret any of this. The reason you’re hurting right now is because you had tried for something, something you believed in. And you held onto it. Until the end. Until it was time to let go. Few people would recognize that as love, but it is.”
He gazed at her as if seeing her for the first time.
“Well,” she said imperturbably her mood totally shifted, “I made you some chicken soup downstairs. I’ll wait for you there.”
She headed for the door. When her fingers felt the knob, she paused and looked back at her son motionless on the bed. The light from the window now beamed on his figure making his eyes glisten.
She smiled and said, “I’m proud of you, son.”
- Jerard: Mahjong! Yes! I won again!
- Thea, in disgust: Awww. You're so lucky.
- Mom: That's OK, Thea. We have a saying, "maswerte sa sugal, malas sa pag-ibig."
I woke up with your arms around me, on top of me. You were facing down while I was facing sideward up. The sun had entered the room probably an hour earlier and the coolness of the night hasn’t left yet. I moved my gaze back at your face. Your closed eyes and the slow rise and fall of your back as you breathed gave me peace; like nothing in the world was wrong, nothing in the world could ever be. I breathed; feeling overjoyed at the thought of breathing the same air you did. I gently touched the back of your neck and felt the warmth. I slowly moved my hand up to touch your hair. And as I ran my fingers through your hair, I was brought back to the first time I saw you walking towards me. I never knew then that I’d have you forever.
Looking back at that day now, I realize that it was one of those turning points I’ve been hearing about as an adolescent. The moment you asked for a hug was the exact moment I wish I was married to you. Not because you were dashing in your Captain America shirt, not because you gave me the warmest hug I’ve ever received. No, it wasn’t because you were more than I hoped for, nor was it because I knew then that you loved me, too. It was entirely because you pulled that single heartstring which has been sleeping my whole life, and I knew right there and then that you were the only person who could have pulled it. No one ever found it and no one coming will ever find it—there was only you. It was destiny.
With one pull, you have managed to completely change my life, forever changed. I no longer am waiting for anything. It was like rain finally pouring down after a long dry spell, like snow finally falling on a white Christmas morning, and like a spring flower blooming among the melting ice after a cruel winter. You completed whatever it was that was lacking. And I’ll be forever grateful.
I stared at the ring you placed on my finger yesterday, and I smiled. Your eyes slowly opened. You smiled, too.
“Good morning.” It almost came out of my mouth as a whisper.
“Good morning,” you replied back.
I ran a long way to get to where I am, but every time I close my eyes to sleep I am brought back to where you are—worlds away. I tried to wake myself from my slumber, but I have fallen deeper with every futile attempt.
It was first unclear to me why the light was blinding and the air salty, but when my vision became clearer, I noticed that what you were holding out towards me was a seashell. You said you would get me more and we would place them in a glass jar to remind us of this day. The waves roared loudly, and the seagulls pranced around the shore. The water was as blue as it could get. The sun was right behind your head as you looked down on me, lying on the warm sand. I winced at the brightness of the sun as I gazed at you. Your face was backlit, but your touch was familiar and your voice told me who you were. You pulled me up and we ran towards the water. I saw your perfect face and I could swear that my heart skipped a beat. The coolness of the water felt perfect and the laughter you gave me as I splashed water towards you gave me a pang because a part of me realized that this must be just a dream, but I continued to splash water towards your face. You chased me as I started to run back to the warm sand, I knew you were getting closer so I accelerated even more. A wave of cool water came crashing on my running legs as you caught my hand. I could feel your warm breath on my neck and I felt my lips breaking into a smile. Everything went into slow motion from that moment and my vision became blurred, fading into nothing.
The sun peeked into my curtain which I lousily closed before going to bed. I was certain that today I will not see you; this was reality. I am sure that our paths will not cross today, after all, now it’s only in my dreams that I see you, in a different dimension where nothing else matters, right through the white haze.
He watched as the steam rose and dissipated into the air. The bells on the door jingled, someone has just come in. He quickly turned his head around and felt a pang of disappointment as he recognized that the person who entered wasn’t the one he was waiting for. It has been like that for over an hour and with his fourth cup of coffee, he realized he’s probably more hopeless than he thought.
It was in this same place that he had a wonderful conversation, where he repeatedly bit his lips to conceal a smitten smile, where he felt butterflies in his stomach when their eyes met, and where he wished that the hours would extend, even up to forever.
He decided that he was going to leave his cup of coffee there, untouched. He was fixing his things when the door bells jingled again. Again, he was faced with another blow of disappointment. He hurriedly got off his seat with his bag on his shoulder.
He tasted the cool January breeze outside and he put his hands into his pocket. He took a last look inside and saw his empty seat and the cup he left on the table. It was no longer steaming.
So he came to realize that falling in love in a coffee shop wasn’t so exciting after all, in fact it has been like tasting coffee—bitter and sweet, but mostly bitter.
How can anyone articulate the pain and the grumblings of a heart which lost its reason?
The heat of the moment was too much for me and so I closed my eyes. This proved to be a wrong decision as I found out later on, but the body knew what it needed and I swiftly fell into sleep. When I opened my eyes it was already twilight, and the purples and deep blues of the sky could be traced in my window. I turn my hazy gaze towards the door and there, your silhouette gave me the security I have always needed to remain happy and alive. I stared at that silhouette for a long time, but just as I resolved that I could stay in that moment for the rest of my days, you slowly moved toward the front door dragging your silhouette with you. I rose from my bed as quickly as I could and grogginess seemed to take a hold of me but it wasn’t enough. I knew I had to try and stop you from leaving so I moved as quickly as I could but you increased your pace as I did. I tried to break into a run, but my legs felt like they were in viscous liquid and you and your silhouette quickly vanished out of the front door. By the time I reached it and looked, it was dark. I knew you were far away already. My eyes grew strained from peering into that pitch black nothingness that stared right back at me. I couldn’t step out of that door not when I was uncertain of your reasons for leaving. But my heart knew that whatever they were, you did it all out of good intentions.
Nevertheless, I felt a piece of me dissipate into that darkness.
I sat on my bed crying and wishing you would have a change of heart and come back to me. Wishing in my heart of hearts that I could be everything you wanted, that you had enough strength to keep holding on. I wished that time was our ally and you could see me as someone you love. You would wipe my tears and I would embrace your warm body until the darkness that has robbed us of joy and consumed our hope has been vanquished. Only then could the sun rise up again.
Maybe one day you will come back to me and stand by my side. You would touch my hands and think to yourself, “this is where I belong”. And when you do, you would see that my feelings for you never even changed.
I miss how you stare back at my eyes. I miss your touch. I miss the way you constantly fix your hair. I miss how I look at you in public, wishing I could kiss you right there and then. I miss how I see you from a far and the feeling that as you slowly near me, I am brought closer to a happy place where only the two of us could ever be in.
The sound of his laughter broke the stillness of the night. On his bed, he has been twisting and turning for the past two hours, with a smile that has been relentlessly present on his face. Between him and his undeniable fondness for conversations like this, was a little fear and a pint of dread because the clock was ticking and he knew that his euphoria had to end at some point.
He couldn’t bring to his mind any valuable reason to put the phone down, save for the fact that his body was weak and his eyelids were failing. Every precious second, he savoured. Every decibel, every syllable and every word, he let them reverberate in his ears, in his head and in his heart. He held onto every word spoken and they seemed fragile as can be; fleeting, like a snowflake slowly melting in his hands.
With a heavy heart, he uttered what he thought would be one of the hardest goodbyes he had to make. The moonlight crept into the window and on his face. And then there was silence. He closed his eyes that moment, feeling with an immeasurable longing and hope that somehow perfect conversations like that can be continued in one’s dreams.
And he felt quite positive about all of this since splendorous things such as this tend to transcend dimensions, space and time. He prayed that he may catch sleep swiftly, hoping against the impossible; hoping to prove that the goodbye he just said was in vain.
It’s just one of those days when I don’t want to utter anything to anybody. It’s one of those times when my fingers don’t feel like touching that phone. It’s one of those days when I’d rather be carried somewhere else by a book, by a movie, or better yet, by a dreamless sleep.
And more than anything else, it’s one of those days when I just wish my life was different.
We talked, exchanged a few words, and this brought me to a deeper longing to become an intrinsic part of you. This longing, none of my friends could understand.
But then, there’s this looming fear inside of me. I’m terribly afraid that with what I have and could bring out to the table, you’d just wander away, uninterested, and thus leave me without even the chance of asking, “Could I ever be enough?”
I want to bring you closer to my world and I want you to do the same. I’d like for you to go and ask my number, my birthday, my favourite colour, and everything I’d be interested in asking you. I thought we should be off to a good start since I’ve painstakingly come to a conclusion that I have a colossal interest in you.
I’ve made some pretty awful decisions in my life. Some made me lose my grip, and some, well, some almost convinced me that I was a horrible person. I’ve lost friends. I’ve given up hope more times than I should. I’ve succumbed to self-hate for too long, that I still wonder why I haven’t hurt myself.
Even though I’ve been to such, excuse me for the term, shitty places, I know I must have done something good, something right. And all of those decisions and regretful memories seem trifling and negligible now that I have you.
You make me feel brand new.