And Never Brought to Mind

Nagbalik ako ng kapatagan mas maaga sa dagsa ng mga biyaherong luluwas. Pagkapananghali pa lang katulad ng bawat pagkakataong luluwas ako, malungkot akong nag-empake at naghandang umalis. Mag-isa akong nagbalot ng macaroni salad at cake mula sa hindi naubos naming handa sa pagsalubong ng taon. Paborito ko ang mga iyon.

Malabo ang mga mata ko habang papasok sa kwarto. Sinukbit ang mabigat kong bag. Naka-head set doon ang kapatid kong bunso at tutok sa kung anong pinanonood. Inabutan ko ng tatlong daang piso pambili n'ya daw ng SD card. Iniwan ko rin sa kanya ang nag-iisa kong relos na matagal na niyang ina-arbor.

Naisip kong wala akong agahan kinabukasan. Nagsilid din ako ng tinapay sa plastic. May narinig akong bakit ba nagdala pa ako. Maaari naman daw akong bumili sa Maynila noon pagdating ko. Kainaman na daw ang aking pag-aarimuhunan.

'Yung iba pinababaunan pa kapag umaaalis. Bakit pag ako hindi? -sabi kong pabiro at nagpipilit ngumiti. Nagmadali na akong lumabas para matapos na ang mahahabang litanya. Ang huli kong narinig ay- Hindi ka naman nagbibigay sa akin ah.

Nagbalik ang nararamdaman ko noon tuwing namamalimos ako ng bente pesos na baon sa kolehiyo.

Mabilis akong nakasakay ng bus. Pasinghap-singhap sa lamig ng aircon. Napakabagal ng dalawang oras na iyon. At sa gitna ng biyahe nakatanggap ako ng mensahe sa karag-karag kong telepono:

Salamat, ingat!

Napangiti ako at mababang loob na nag-Walang Anuman. At nagbuntong-hininga sa isiping mabuti pa ang kapatid kong dati ay spoiled brat. Marunong magpasalamat.

On The Twelfth

My dearest DRP,

Twelve years. That’s how much time. That’s how long it has been. And your birthday is the ultimate reminder.

A lot has been said and done. Unencumbered numbered words. See, we’re all about them words. You are my personal Bob Ong. You are my weirdest friend. You are my greatest love at one point in time. You are my wandering/wondering/eating/drinking buddy. You were the brightest star during the darkest chapter of my life. You are my anchor to the remaining poet pieces of myself. 

Those twelve years were long and eventful to ever tell of our lives. From the moment you first let me read your lofty verses to the day that I told you I was finally getting married. Everything in the middle went blur and vivid in bursts at the same time. I suddenly didn’t know which memory to grasp and which to let go. 

Is it my grave infatuation towards you? Is it the heartbreak? Is it the friendship? Is it all the long letters and poems? Is it the staring at waters? Is it marveling at sunsets? Is it the endless talking? The long awkward silence which lasted for years? The broken friendships? The attempts to save them? Is it the times we were together with nothing?

Or is it the time apart when we had our dreams come true?

Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe I will just let them flow. I have not put ink on paper in such a long time. I am afraid that my handwriting is no longer legible. But I am more scared that I do not know how to articulate my thoughts anymore. Or that I haven’t really taken time in reverie for so long now. You once said I have let the inner child in me go. Because I didn’t want it anymore. And perhaps that is true…

Perhaps the long awkward silence was the child gone. The hesitation to see you alone is the fear of hearing myself in that old voice.

I can only talk about our past because we have never really moved forward from that. We have not carried our connection through the new chapters that we tread. And no matter how I try, my letter in Tagalog or English, points to goodbye. Or at least an ending. Of what? Im not sure.

But I am certain that something is ending. Literally another year of your life. Literally my singlehood. But I still cannot put a finger on it. Maybe I want to say my formal goodbye just in case life brings us farther apart. Maybe because I want you to know that even if that happens, you will always and always be a special part of me. Maybe because I know the child is lost and I am getting much older each day.

Maybe because this is my chance. Maybe because I am reminded - That 12 is your favorite number and 12 years is how long it’s been.

Happy, happy birthday.

I will always love you. Not in the same way now.

RDP

September 12, 2014

___________________________

Liham ng dahon sa puno (o kabaligtaran).

Mandarasal

Sumasampalataya ako sa pag-ibig

Sa bitbit nitong init sa aking mga kilig

Sa kabig nitong lamig sa aking mga ligalig

Sa iwan nitong ligamgam sa aking mga agam-agam:

Na ang pag-ibig ay kasal

Ng mga pusong namamaalam sa katawan,

Kumpisal ng mga damdaming kumakalas sa katinuan,

Simbahan ng mga alaala mong kinukulong sa isipan.

Na ang pag-ibig ay dasal -

Taimtim at payapang usal ng mga hiling

Sa dahas at ingay ng paninimdim.

Na ito’y didinggin sa tiyak na pananahimik

Kapag walang pag-asa nang nababatid

     At ito'y hihilig

          Sa mga nananalig.

____________