Your silence astounds me, but I am not surprised. You only speak a few words, but they always hit me round after round. My head twirls at your commanding presence. I'm not used to it, even though this has been the nth time. But I welcome it, don't I? Why is that?? You, for some reason... are one of a kind. And you keep haunting my head, if not every night. Sometimes I'm anxious for rest, if you know what I mean. You know, to indulge in a secret vision of you so I can see you again. BUT I CAN'T KEEP DOING THAT! I don't even know if it makes me happy "seeing" you again because it's just wrong. ... Isn't it? *sigh*

***

Thanks for the little chat the other day. I needed that. For closure. For forgiveness. For peace of mind. For ... for everything we held on to. For our food trip, and what have you. You're amazing. I'll never forget you. I'm really happy we got to talk. :)

Thanks Ate Maylene, Rico, Clo. I needed that. I guess sometimes it doesn't take a whole lot of people to comfort you. Just some words from three people will do. And I'm thankful. ... I guess the thing that makes me fall down is just that, not having the familiarity and comfort I used to have. Those two things bring out the confidence in me, and now I can't even do that. There's too many things to be familiar with here, still. There's too many things I can't trust to put my comfort in. There's too many people that are hard to get along with. And I don't know what's with them that sometimes, they just seem so distant. *sigh* Do you guys know what keep me alive? Do you guys know what tell me inside "Go on, you can do it."? It's the dream. The dream of being able to go back home someday and finish some unfinished business. I guess a month and a half wasn't enough. If I were to go back home, I'd visit each and every one of you. I'd give 200% of my time and attention to you when I'm with you so I can relive that memory back in my head. I think dreams of the past haunt me. All my dreams happen in the Philippines. All my dreams are about you, my friends, my choir, my AAK family, my school. Everything. Sometimes it's easy to let go. But sometimes? IT'S NOT.

I think the distance from you guys is eating me up too late. It's almost a year since I've been here, but it's eating me up now. I'm feeling regret for all the apologies I should've given out. I'm feeling ... I don't know, I'm hesitating because I wish I spent more time getting to know you. 18 years is just not enough. And I hate it that some years of my life were taken away from me, to be in some place without the comfort of having you around. All I have are my dreams. Just like the other one that I wrote down. But whatever happens, I will always have you in my heart. Even those I've hurt. Even those I know vaguely remember me. Even those I've fought with and have secret remorse for. Even those... those who knew me at all.

I had some sort of gathering in my house that day. That, I was sure. I don't know if we took a trip, a vacation, or just had a "party" in my house. I don't know either what we were doing. All I know was that some of us were getting high. Some of us were telling stories and some of us were just lazing around. Some of us were in a small room. Some of us were sitting outside atop the gravel that's on the garden. You were one of them. How could you even sit there? It fucking hurts your ass, man. K, anyway. So my friends were telling me, "C'mon, go tell them to stay inside the house." So I went outside, being the warm hostess that I am, and asked you guys to go inside the house. So you did. We sat on the couch and talked for a while. You lay on my lap. I even joked, "Too low for you huh?" Then you laughed and motioned me to just slightly rest my head on your right shoulder. You placed your right hand on my left thigh. I felt... if not secretly happy inside, I felt relieved.

And I was glad.

At that exact moment, I didn't want anything to change. With that, I thought we revived what we used to have. I wanted to cling on to you, but that was my mistake the first time. I just wanted... bliss. The one we used to have. I shifted a little bit. I missed that, the way you first said I love you, with my whole name. I missed.. when you let me show off all I knew about this map in this one bookstore we used to go to. You called me smart. Hah, I'll never forget that. I missed... holding your hand as you play with my hair. And all those movies... Do you remember when you used to be amazed at my long green nails? Yeah, I remember that. I miss never having to kiss your lips. We never did and I guess there was a good reason behind that.

And I was glad.

And I was glad. That it was just a dream. This experience, this dream, was worth it so that then I could forget you. And I was glad. That I woke up.

Could you be sad and happy at the same time? For some reason, I am. I guess it's just one of those days where I'm sulking in misery of sorts - - one whose causes even I am unsure of. I miss my friends. :( I feel bad because I wish I was back at home. Back where my heart belongs. As I was walking home from work, I was singing in my head the song I sang with the choir the last time I was with them. I was trying to remember the tune, the words, and even tried them out on the piano. I miss singing in the choir. I miss my choir. I miss... all the times with the choir. Rico's despedida. My despedida. Alter Native. Saturday practices. Friday and Sunday masses. ... I miss... playing the Aleluia, softening the volume a bit so if I mess up, it won't be so obvious. I miss the talents of everyone in the group, those I've seen and those I've yet to see. I miss... the people who make the group so wholesome. I miss.. drinking. Hah. I miss dancing. I miss those things with you guys. I miss... acting crazy. I miss... quiet moments in someone's car. I miss... holding your hands during mass, and kissing you at the sign of peace. I miss.... looking at your faces. Little did you know that I memorized your faces before I left. Just so I won't forget. I miss... sharing my problems with you. Some of you at least. I miss... serving you cake and coffee and coke in my house. I miss... having you in my home. The one and only time. I miss... taking pictures and looking back at them. I still do. I still flip through my album... I miss you guys. You know who you are.

I miss.. the luxury of being in a place I've grown to know. To love. To cherish. I know those places like the back of my hand. I miss... riding tricycles. I miss riding jeeps. I miss knowing the routes to my friends' houses. I miss the parties. I miss the talks. I miss... quiet moments. I miss.. crying on someone's shoulder. God, how I need that right now. I miss... having some people to talk to. I miss being able to pick up my blue phone that's always been on my sidetable, to call anyone at any time without worries of disturbing them. I miss doodling while talking to someone. I miss.... posting memorabilia on my corkboard. I miss.... my friends. I miss each and every single time I'm with them. I want to go back home. And I'm trying to gather every bit of courage I have to remind myself that I can't just yet. Not just yet. I want to go back home. Back home. Home. .... :(

I miss being able to divert my attention to my training when I'm pissed. Like right now. How I'd love a kick pad in front of me. How I'd love to throw some back fists, jabs, punches, some roundhouse kicks, some hook kicks, some front kicks. How I'd love... to go back to training. To get my black belt. Yet everyone else is already what, six steps ahead of me. ... I hate not being able to remember my movements, my katas, my techniques.. I miss.... karate. I miss my senseis. My teammates. Everyone. I miss the kids. I miss the kumite on Saturday nights, even though I always dread it. I just miss karate...

I want to go back home. For a million reasons and one. I'd love to see everyone's faces. I want to hug my friends and remind them I love them. I want to... be able to say sorry to the people who deserve them. I want to live where my heart belongs. I want to go back home. :(

I've been a very, very bad blogger. I haven't paid attention to my blog in so long. I guess I've just been battling with too many things right now. "Home sapiens is also Homo reparans." (Elizabeth Spelman) Yup, that's me.

I've been battling some issues with the two people who've raised me for eighteen years. Here I am, settling down with who, for me, is the closest to perfect guy I've ever been with, and here they are on the other end, constantly ringing in my ear about how they DON'T want me to settle down. What's to enjoy a few hours of slumber in each other's arms? What's to share a kiss, a touch of a hand, and a look of love? What's to express love, one which I never had, one which I never shared, one which I never discovered? What's to feel happy, to serve that happiness, to do everything in my power to making everything work? What's to fight for the good life, to dream, to avoid having reality fall short of expectations, or rather to have no expectations at all? What's to enjoy bliss, get lost in someone's eyes, to connect with someone through his fingertips? What's to love? Is it so much that you cannot let go of my hand to let me be someone else's? And now what? Your words "if you leave, don't come back" still reverberate as clearly as they sounded when you first shouted them to my face. Please don't ever, ever forget that you said those words to me. You know I'll take them seriously.