It happens sometimes.
(With apologies to Alexis de Tocqueville)
What happens after we fight? After the Revolution, was there ever a point? Do we fight for anything? Why do we fight? How do we manage to convince ourselves everyday that this is worth it?
If only you knew how everyday, all I’d wish for is that you could be with me. How much it hurts to think you’re not beside me now. Or how on some nights, I can’t even reach you. I told you, I promised, I won’t let any night pass that we’re not okay. I don’t want to keep you waiting, but we’ll get there together right? We’ll be together soon.
The Revolution only made the inevitable happen sooner. If this nation of ours is bound to break eventually, then let it be, one by one. If that’s what all these nights are for, I don’t want a Revolution. I don’t even want to fight. We never asked for those rough nights. We never asked for the distance.
But I asked for you, no matter what happens.
If we’ve got to pick up our arms, then let it be against the odds, against the giving up on us. I’m not giving up on you. I’m not letting this go.
I woke up one morning. You were beside me. We were like we fell asleep. You were cuddled to me and my arms were around you. This is our pretend home. Our pretend bed. Our pretend real. But I know it was real. I know we made it happen. I was feeling for your hands to hold. I was feeling for your warmth to embrace. You woke up and kissed me. And I fell for you again.
I asked you, when we woke up.
Where do we go from here?
“Forever?” you said.
“Forever,” you said.
So what’s the point in all of this? After we break ourselves? After we pour our hearts out? When we’re nothing but tired and worn and weary? When all we want to do is tear down these walls between us? When we’ve nothing to do but lay down our arms and let ourselves settle? After the wounds and scars and fatalities that become us? What happens to us after all these words and actions, after I’ve stretched out so far to get to you?
What happens the morning after?
I don’t know.
I just want to wake up next to you.
it’s sad because its raining
and i can’t watch those tv shows with you;
nor you, a movie with me.
just spending my night
on the line
wishing i was there
it’s nights like these that make me feel
i really miss you a lot
even though you’re just there
and i was just with you yesterday.
it was just a while ago when we were
dreaming about a house,
no, a home:
one with you and me,
and just us.
and it came to my mind that
i have to put those
for a while
and think about
and it always goes back to the
like how we’d like to turn out
in the long run,
vague but you get it as well as i mean it.
i miss you.
a whole hell lot.
Come and go.
Leaving is bearable, but the uncertainty ahead isn’t. This is the way it is, now. It was, for three months now. It will be, for the road ahead. Come and go. Then come back.
Then go again.
Kiss me goodbye. One last time. And tell me that you’ll be waiting. For that one day. When all of this will be over. When there will be no goodbyes. My arms around you. Your head on my shoulders. In the calm before the storm. In the still of the night. In the silence of the overflow of words. In the incandescence of the road ahead. In the rhythm of radioed hallelujahs. In the atmosphere. The stillness. The security. The serenity. The serendipity. That made us.
Fog up my windows. Write sweetnothings on the glass. Blur the world outside. Then clear it up, so that I see only you. Be my clarity. Be mine. Let it fade. Fog it up again. And let’s write all over again.
and i’d get lost in your eyes
and your smiles
it feels like
you held my hand
on that may afternoon
when i first reached out for yours
when we sat in the nothingness
of an empty building
and the everything
of what we’re feeling
and your head on my shoulder
we’re sitting here
amidst these faces
that cancel out
because all i see is yours
look for you
lose you in the commotion
find you on the other side
and i rush to
meet your eyes and hold you
and i’ll hold your hand
for the longest time
i’m thinking of
the songs you like
and how i don’t
hit their notes
i’m just an
awkward little kid
waving my hands at your mum
who might just be thinking something else
i’ll wait for you anyway
they’ll come true
i could be
is all i’d rather be
back and forth
just sit beside me
forever’s a long shot
be beside you
till the end
don’t let go
i can’t promise
but i will
all we have
but just hold on
we can make it to tomorrow
and i get lost
in your eyes
and your smiles
all the time
i love you
It always runs in my mind. That precise moment. Me and you. Looking down on me like an angel on a sinner. Both your hands in mine. Your eyes in their most beautiful. Lost in the darkness. Lit by your presence. Evanescence. Trees overhead, stars much above. The moon looking down at us like it plotted this unimaginable serendipity.
And I asked you, for a third time.
Will you be mine?
You nodded, smiled your brightest. Looked into my eyes.
Knowing every step in the dark more than whatever we’re feeling.
Lost nowhere but in each other’s arms.
Remember this moment. Remember us. Remember the words you can’t remember. When you miss me. When you don’t. When I’m away. When I’m not. Think that you have me. And I have you. And we have each other. And we have today. And maybe that will get us through everyday.
Like I said. I’ll be coming home to you.
There’s something about goodbyes that breaks both our hearts. It isn’t really much of the leaving. More of how we’ll last without each other for the longest time. And every night I hear your voice through silence. Hearing a steady heartbeat in the key of nothing. Knowing you’re on the other end of the line. Knowing I’m without you. Nothing new to say. Still, we’re here to stay. When I get home, will you still be there?
Maybe you’ll get tired. One day. Of this helplessness. Of how we’ll have to wait forever just for us to exist. Of how maybe there isn’t even a forever. Maybe we’ll run out of words to say. Maybe even doubt this love cliché. As the sun sets on us, I hold your hand, elusively. Thinking of forever.
Maybe I’m trying to reach a horizon. Always dawning on me. Always farther as I near. Always a step too far. But I’ll never get tired of walking, because I know, one day, I’ll walk this road with you. And I’ll never get tired of walking, because all these sidewalks lead to you.
And I’ll love you all the same. No matter what. What you were. What you are. Whatever you will be. For every little thing you are. And every little thing that you do. I’ll grow with you. I’ll stay beside you. Everyday. I just want to be with you as much as I can. And there are things I do regret. And there’s so much more I have to learn. So much more I have to understand. If we’re moving too fast, we’ll fall off one day. All the more, I’m willing to wait. Let’s take it a day at a time. We got here, and we’ll keep going. We’ll work this out, remember? And for weeks, months, and even years, I’m more than willing to hold on. Could we just last the mile?
There’s so much we’ve left to do. So many places we’ve yet to go. So much sunsets to watch. So much stars to look up to. So many sidewalks to tread together. So much conversations to look back on. But it’s enough. One assurance. There’s someone waiting home for me.
Here’s to one. Here’s to more.
So just like I asked you the first time. The second. The third.
Will you be mine today?
How long can you wait?
I’m not asking you to.
I’m just saying I will.
But what do I know about forever?
I’ve only known this much.
I’ve just seen a figment of it
in our little moments.
Long nights. I’m wide awake.
While I’m away
I’ll still be here, all the same.
When I held your hand for a first time.
And every time, a first.
A sunset we can call ours.
A city we can conquer.
A step to take us closer.
A stranger to call mine.
How many more days?
How many more nights
till I find you?
Thinking there would still be an us
There would still be a hand
There would still be a ring
There would still be something we call love
And maybe we’ll eventually burn out
Maybe we’ll eventually drift apart
Maybe we’ll inevitably dissolve into the doubts and the hardships
One day let’s do it all over again:
Fall in love like we did at the start.
Back to zero
Taking it from the top
And knowing you again for the first time
Holding your hand for the first time
This time, to our infinity
One day, I’ll take your hand
and bring you anywhere — everywhere.
One day, there’s just us.
And maybe people saw us
sitting by the staircase
talking to ourselves
wishing for our infinity
through blank smiles and prose
and tears that rose
to the occasion
and maybe people never really understood
why I love you
but I don’t get it myself
why I do
It is the incomprehensible inevitability that is us.
It is the Complexity that exceeds us.
It is the jungle that is our emotions,
intertwined in caps lock and secrets,
roamed by hugs, dewed by imaginary kisses.
It is the lack of words when I am with you.
It is the umbrella that hides us from an absence of rain.
It is that blue dot on your chest, wondrous and weird.
It is that kid who held out his hand for loose change.
It is that dog in the plant box looking for something beyond herself.
It is that time between the wedged potatoes and the avocado and vanilla,
long, treacherous, and worth it.
It is your eyes when I try to be funny.
It is the cave that is my chest, crashing in on itself.
It is the poetry that made no sense. Much like this one.
It is the premiere that is when you arrive.
It is the encore that is every time we meet again.
It is the pink that is your favorite color.
It is the red carpet that the pavement made up
making way for the actors of our likes
that guides us to an infinite loop of unknown exits
It is the crossroads we were stuck in at the middle,
waiting to hold you right then and there.
We took a left instead.
It is the dead end that met us.
It is the turnaround that is our meeting.
It is the next time that might never see existence.
It is the hand that should’ve belonged to yours
but held an umbrella instead.
It is the phone that makes our ends meet.
It is the let-go I regret.
It is the staircase that was us.
It is the closed gate that waited.
I am a contradiction.
This SMS is a contradiction.
New direction, no direction.
Trying to cheer me up.
Trying to calm me down.
Trying to make me realize
how close I am to the ground.
And my feet are aching.
My head is pounding.
My heart in the storm that needed words from a savior.
No one came.
And maybe our love was like that jeepney wait.
The inevitable parting that we face.
And the inevitable distance that we would traverse.
And the inevitable time that has to pass before we meet again.
The inevitable life that goes on.
and even for one last time
and hold her hand
and never let go
and tell her I love her
and never let go
and hold her at the crossroads
and never let go
and tell her I’ll miss her
and never let me go