How much of me am I willing to reveal? How much do you want me to?

1 Corinthians 13:1-13

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.

If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.

If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.

It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.

For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears.

When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me.

Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

he's an angel, a prince in disguise

when he asked, i never thought twice

to give my heart, it truly was a decision so wise

and now i'm happy and contented,

believing that life is indeed nice (",)

Republished: Dear Jean

This is for you on your birthday. I know it's a little early but this is for me, too.

You said you want to fall in love again. You're so far the only one who said something that is my sentiment as well. Thus this letter for you.

I know how you feel. I mean, not that we're looking or we're in a hurry, this I know both of us would like to gracefully clarify. Not even are we so much immersed into the very idea of falling in love. There's no explaining it. We just want to as we're both ready once again to see past through rose-colored glasses.

A friend once told me we're still singles as the One up there is still busy writing the best love story for us. She, as well, told me, that that person for us may already be here, but is just lost. For whichever meaning or interpretation that is, those persons are still finding their way to us and us, to them.

Very romanticized view of what is otherwise, in reality, if we just admit to ourselves, a distracting and disturbing idea? Yes. It is.

Girl, you and I both know we are not damsels in distress. You know me and I know you. We've both seen what we could do. We don't need anyone taking care of our heart or feeding our ego, for that matter. But behind the beauty of physicality and materialism, of achievements and stature, you and I both know that at the end of the day, as human beings capable of feeling, we're bound to ask who would appreciate us for who we are enough to adore us, pine for us, care for us, love us.

Maybe we should just really be patient. Or maybe we should grit our teeth hard enough to endure the craft of the Master. He's not just writing our love story. I'd like to believe he's slowly and painstakingly perfecting his work, making it permanent, solid and beautiful through carving.

Yes, he is carving it into our very being, our very soul. Which is why it hurts. Which is why we still hold on.

My sweetest regards,

Precious

______________________________________________________________________

(For reasons privy only to myself and to how I feel, I am posting this again...)

Of women, shoes and jerks

Thanks Maan for this one. Reminds me of my most recent trip to the shoe store, not to mention, my concurrent headache. Haha. Go figure:

"When a woman buys a pair of shoes, she goes to eight shops to compare style, color, fit and price. In each shop, she'll probably try a dozen pairs  -  holding it, touching it, smelling it, wearing it, walking it  -  before she actually buys the shoes. She also usually brings a friend or friends, always conferring and asking for comments. BUT when it comes to love, a woman will love the first jerk that will make her blush." (BO SANCHEZ)

Precious' "Obiter Dictum": Now I'm beginning to wonder, was Bo Sanchez ever a jerk?

Urong-sulong: Of disclaimers and finally setting myself free

At the risk of receiving the conclusion that, yeah, I possibly am being judgmental, I'd still say "Sayang ka."

Though you don't owe me anything at all and by receiving things and unsolicited favors from me, you're really under no liability whatsoever to  measure up to me, I'd still say "You've disappointed me." (Nah. I won't go quoting the same old line that respect was all I asked of you.)

My mind screams in torture each time I'd choose to heed the call of "for goodness' sake" and painstakingly endure a mouthful of bile.

Or is it really "for goodness' sake"? Isn't it more appropriately termed as "because I'm in love and all that trash" which is why I'd always, even up to now that I'm already, uh, decided, give endless benefits of the doubt?

Quoting a dear friend, the extreme representation of my brain's ego and my heart's pride: "Naririnig mo ba ako?! Malamang hindi."

It's amusing hearing office colleagues from the Visayas saying "Ambot sa imo." The tone of the sentence in said language seems to be a big cover-up for the frustration and the confusion underneath.

And then here I go again: I won't let you pull me down. I can't let you take me down. Even indirectly. Even unconsciously. That's why I'm setting myself free... Then again, maybe...

**Precious faces the mirror and in extreme frustration shouts at the reflection facing her "Ay ambot sa imo!"

Weaker by the day....

He doesn't want me, does he? What's wrong with me? Am I not pretty, smart, sweet, caring enough?

Why do I have to fall for him only to face the reality that I can't really pretend that I'm strong as much as I've been wanting myself to be?

I wasn't just one of the girls... or was I? God do I even have the right to ask these questions at this point in time?

Do I still have legit and valid causes to believe? Or am I just convincing myself?

More strength... More tolerance... More patience... More understanding...

_______________

It's like I suddenly found myself chasing butterflies in my own Midsummer Night's Dream. And it's not even summer.

Dear Jean

This is for you on your birthday. I know it's a little early but this is for me, too.

You said you want to fall in love again. You're so far the only one who said something that is my sentiment as well. Thus this letter for you.

I know how you feel. I mean, not that we're looking or we're in a hurry, this I know both of us would like to gracefully clarify. Not even are we so much immersed into the very idea of falling in love. There's no explaining it. We just want to as we're both ready once again to see past through rose-colored glasses.

A friend once told me we're still singles as the One up there is still busy writing the best love story for us. She, as well, told me, that that person for us may already be here, but is just lost. For whichever meaning or interpretation that is, those persons are still finding their way to us and us, to them.

Very romanticized view of what is otherwise, in reality, if we just admit to ourselves, a distracting and disturbing idea? Yes. It is.

Girl, you and I both know we are not damsels in distress. You know me and I know you. We've both seen what we could do. We don't need anyone taking care of our heart or feeding our ego, for that matter. But behind the beauty of physicality and materialism, of achievements and stature, you and I both know that at the end of the day, as human beings capable of feeling, we're bound to ask who would appreciate us for who we are enough to adore us, pine for us, care for us, love us.

Maybe we should just really be patient. Or maybe we should grit our teeth hard enough to endure the craft of the Master. He's not just writing our love story. I'd like to believe he's slowly and painstakingly perfecting his work, making it permanent, solid and beautiful through carving.

Yes, he is carving it into our very being, our very soul. Which is why it hurts. Which is why we still hold on.

My sweetest regards,

Precious

Dreams

First time I dug for an old post and had it "republished" in my blog. The song "Sway" (both versions of Michael Buble and the PCD inspired me to do so.

"When marimba rhythm starts to play, dance with me, make me sway. Like the lazy ocean hugs the shore, hold me close, sway me more... I can hear the sound of violin, long before it begins. Make me thrilled as only you know how, sway me smooth, sway me now."

____________________________________________________________

I dream of being titled  -  mornings spent meeting top people while dressed in a power suit.

I dream of a relaxed afternoon drinking mocha frap while chatting with my college buddies after an otherwise stressful morning spent on crunch time having meetings after meetings discussing highly-important corporate bullsh*t.

I dream of glam nights garbed in an elegant A-line skirt dancing the night away to Michael Buble's tunes.

I dream of cozy weekends  -  sunny in the morning until the afternoon with drizzles in the early evening and instead of doing the dishes, I'm wrapped in the arms of the one I love and who loves me back, spending pregnant silence on the window seat, gazing at the Tagaytay skyline.

Five to ten years from now, this is how I dream my life will be...

Can I fall in love?

I know the news of the divorce of Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson is so six months ago (more or less) but what can I do? It's only now that the hopeless romantic in me, upon watching avid fans' homemade video of the famous ex-couple, is wishing and hoping that they'd reconcile. A sample could be found here.

Oh geez. For the love of... I admit to having watched and having unconsciously anticipated every single episode of The Newlyweds on MTV; how I would cringe at Jessica's "blonde dumb" tricks and how I seriously could not believe the similarity between Nick and my second to the last ex who, now I believe, as really no where near him in the gorgeous scale.

In the abovelinked (oh cool, a new word courtesy of the internet), plus another homemade video made by a fan with Nick's "This I Swear" wedding song (so sue me, I always thought "I Do" was their wedding song) as the accompanying music, if one is at least as nearly as hopeless romantic as me, one could clearly see the reason for this post's title.

No, I am not one of those giddy types who cried and subsequently cheered for Nick's "goodbye to singlehood" and his "hello to singlehood, again", respectively. I am not half as gorgeous as Jessica or even half as great as she is in belting notes. But that's just it. They make falling in love and hooking up look so much good that just by looking at their photos together, I'm darn sure that everyone would end up secretly wishing for a picture-perfect real-life romance of their own.

And then here comes the part when I'd start wishing for a Nick Lachey of my own:

Somebody cute enough to make the both of us look good in pictures (Okay I know this is a wee bit pathetic, but hey, I can dream, can't I? Plus, I mean, what's the sense of striving to make yourself look good if your partner wouldn't sweat it out in making himself look decent and, uh, hehe, "hot", not just for you but for himself, right? Right?)

Somebody stubborn ENOUGH to swear he hates anything romantic but is romantic just the same when you could swear you just saw tears in his eyes when you start reading his love letter/note, whichever length it may be, that he wrote not because he claims he's not a hopeless romantic but all just because you are the one who's guilty of wanting all those mushy stuff.

Somebody sweet enough to indulge you in those dirty little tricks when you want to go into the "revenge is sweet" act on him for all those times he was stubborn and he made you cry. (Okay, fine, as inspired by that huge heart Jessica made Nick for their 2nd Valentine's Day together which the latter wore for their lunch out. Hehe. Link's here! Goddamn it's so wickedly funny. Hehe.)

I guess that's it. A peek at would could surely sweep me off my feet, along with the mandatory God fearing, loyal, respectful, street smart, honest, neat, hardworking and caring.

So, tell me, can I still fall in love? (",)

A princess and a love of a lifetime

She, being so formerly engrossed and enamored with the love and life of an English princess, the late Princess Diana, did not take much notice on other ethincities' royals. She was, by far, had long been brainwashed to believe and take the goody publicity cover up all in even as the princess' fairytale-like but brave life was later revealed as tainted with worldly weaknesses from both sides.

She was somehow admittedly a bit discriminative of her own ethincity as an Asian. Over a pathetic criticism of crooked teeth (often seen as common to the Chinese, Japanese, Korean and Taiwanese) and traditional costume distaste, she preferred Western princesses and princes over their Asian counterparts.

Until, in a move originally and otherwise intended for having a point of discussion with her Korean colleagues, she read about Japan's Crown Princess Masako in a recent issue of Time Magazine featuring the Chrysanthemum Throne.

The beauty of the former commoner Masako Owada captured her. Not minding the "teeth issue", she was once again hooked with royalty stories that she immediately searched for all pertinent information over the web.

Masako, unlike Diana, quoting from Hello Magazine, was a "worldly young professional with an excellent education and a successful career behind her". Masako was an honor graduate (magna cum laude) with a bachelor's degree in economics from Harvard and had taken graduate work in Oxford. Diana, in the tradition of old world English girls, was educated in private boarding schools. Masako was a multi-lingual diplomat when she married love-struck Prince Naruhito. Diana was no more than a kindergarten teacher and babysitter when she became the wife of confused Prince Charles.

Who wouldn't like Masako at all?

But in terms of performing primary duties and responsibilities, apparently, the younger Diana surpassed Masako. Though the former's royal marriage ended in a much-publicized divorce, the now passively accepted source of shame for Britain with Camilla Parker-Bowles becoming the new wife and companion to the future king, she appeared much stronger in terms of dealing with the pressures that were given to her in her everyday life as a public figure before, during and after the marriage.

Then again, who wouldn't be as resilient as Diana? Until her untimely death, she had an heir to the throne, and another son, to protect. Masako's little girl, Aiko, divided Japanese parliament over the issue of amending laws to allow an empress to rule and take over the imperial throne someday. Thus Masako's recent succumbing to depression which was only almost fully lifted from her when news came in yesterday that the wife of her brother-in-law, Princess Kiko, gave birth to a healthy baby boy who's considered now as the third in line to the throne.

Such was the fear that had overtaken Masako when she twice rejected Prince Naruhito's marriage proposals. But who wouldn't be convinced to give up everything she enjoyed when, with all apparent sincerity that is still shown today amidst the Imperial Household Agency's rigid commands against "strong words" that are considered taboo to tradition, Prince Naruhito was quoted as saying "You might have fears and worries about joining the Imperial Household. But I will protect you my entire life."

The reader was, for lack of a better term, "awe-struck", with what she had read. Stories like this keep her sane and not jaded or disillusioned. Then again, stories like this sadden her. Though she doesn't need saving from anybody and she isn't in a hurry, she wonders, what with the seemingly neverending road blocks and dead ends, if she'd ever have that one love of a lifetime.

Two Words

Been looking for this one for a really long time. Finally found it at YouTube. Somehow the mushy-senti in me just can't help but post this one:

TWO WORDS

In a while, in a word,

Every moment now returns.

For a while, seen or heard,

How each memory softly burns.

Facing you who brings me new tomorrows,

I thank God for yesterdays,

How they led me to this very hour,

How they led me to this place...



Every touch, every smile,

You have given me in care.

Keep in heart, always I'll,

Now be treasuring everywhere.

And if life should come to just one question,

Do I hold this moment true?

No trace of sadness,

Always with gladness...

'I DO...'

(instrumental)



Now a song that speaks of now and ever,

Beckons me to someone new,

Unexpected, unexplored, unseen,

Filled with promise coming through.

In a while, in a word,

You and I forever change,

Love so clear, never blurred,

Has me feeling wondrous, strange,

And if life should come to just one question,

Do I face each moment true?

No trace of sadness, always with gladness,

'I DO...'



Never with sadness...

Always with gladness...

'I...DO....'

I will forget you

This is the last time I'll ever talk this way about you.

I will forget the first time we met

I will forget the first time I said "Upon you my eyes are set"

I will forget the magic there was the first time you held my hand

And how it felt when you kissed it and sent me way over the bend

I will forget how deeply you looked at me

And how warm you felt when you held me because that night was breezy

I will forget how you'd hug me each time

I will forget how I used to call you mine

I will forget how eagerly I waited for your calls and messages

And how every time you had me breathless

Over the charm and what I did not dismiss as mere coincidences

I will forget that with you I wished time was endless

I will forget the roses you gave me

And how with every stuffed toy you managed to free the child in me

I will forget that you're the one who taught me to smile

I will forget that there was once a time when for you I'd walk a mile

I will forget how right you felt for me

I will forget how I fought with the fact that there are things that could never be

I will forget how I struggled to fight for our love

Or at least for the love I thought we had

I will forget the tears

I will forget the years

I will forget that you had me and I had you

I just simply, simply have to avoid the pain

So somehow I can get over you...

Oo, hindi pa...

Habang pinapanood at pinapakinggan ko si Zillah na mag-alala at magreklamo dahil sa lakas ng ulan na maaaring maging hadlang sa safe na pag-uwi ng "cutie" niya, hindi ko mapigilang hindi mapaisip ng kung paano na lang itong babaeng ito kung sakaling... sakaling hindi nga...

*Beep* *Beep*

O, text message galing kay... Joy? A si Joy... Si Joy na nasa likod ko lang ang cubicle. Si Joy na kagabi lang ay hindi makatulog sa pilit na pag-iisip ng tamang interpretation sa mga pangyayari.

"Boys are like ONIONS... They add taste and spice to our lives but just like ONIONS they make us cry... Kaya naman sarap tadtarin ng pino ang mga walanghiyang sibuyas na yan. ('="

At sa gitna ng kulog at kidlat at zero visibility mula sa building namin, nag-text siya: "Prech, ingat sa pag-uwi ha. Lakas ulan. Naalala ko lang po kayo."

"O kita mo sabi ko sa 'yo. Kaming mga lalaki, late reaction," gatong ni Leo sa lumalaro-laro sa isip ko na mga tanong. "Nasa confused stage 'yan."

Hay buhay. Parang life. Ayaw mo na nga isipin pero ayan pa rin. Ever present. Ever existent.

Joy: "Ano ba? Mahal mo pa ba? Akala ko ba nakapag-move on ka na?"

Precious: "Oo, hindi pa..."

Joy: "Huh?"

Precious: "Go figure..."

Fixated on a dream

... like a star that seems to be just within my reach.

He's been like that, yeah, a dream, since college. His profile popping in my monitor just this early morning made me realize that.

I'm full of dreams, what if's that have yet to be realized.

Never knew this much could happen to me.

Yes I am fixated. Until then, I am fixated. He's a dream, a star. And I am reality.

Rare Species

Hmm.. Very rare indeed!

Walking with officemate Rex to Mercury PeopleSupport not only paved the way for the provision of relief (courtesy of, or in short "libre", Rex...hehe) to a headache that's growing stronger by the minute, it also provided me a more accurate view of that rare species of men I was telling Pat, Joy, Leo and Rex about, the latter two being one of the few members in this age of modern technology being both a nuisance and a blessing.

A colleague announced he was kicked out by his wife from their house all simple because of a malicious text message coming from the poor guy's past. Who to blame? I'm not going to comment on that although I would have been disturbed by such a scenario just the same what with me experiencing it not just once but thrice over.

Modern technology brought about the creation of virtual meeting rooms (and I'm not just talking about chat rooms, YMs, etc.), one where the mind can play games without having to fret about the veracity of things.

The main function of my job entails the "must" of not taking it too personally when a prospective client or a client insults you whether over the phone or through e-mail, the primary reason of which is that they have not seen you anyway or know you enough to criticize you from head to foot.

Now bringing to the forefront our main ish, these virtual meeting rooms (yes, including the mobile and the land phone) play, or more appropriately, "distort" the idea of the essential being invisible to the eye with both parties easily becoming the prey and the predator all at the same time.

Posting my YM nick at an internet forum resulted to many afternoons of having one guy after another asking to be added to my buddy list. And just like my old experience in chatrooms of guys quickly and oh-so-easily hitting on my naivety, same thing happened. But for this particular time, I was more smart, a smart aleck even, giving the players a dose of their own medicine.

Imagine a guy accusing you of being a prudish man hater just so you would give in to his proposition of virtually playing with him on his game called fire (translation: cheating on his gf).

There's a mysterious texter who's been, for the last couple of weeks, persistent in his "texting" and asking that he be given a chance of meeting up with me so I could remove all my doubts. Twice or thrice I politely informed him I don't really trust people who suddenly gets in touch with me from nowhere (well, actually, all because of the ATM card I lost in SM; the guy's from the SM admin where I asked for assistance).

Now here comes this taxi driver who I got to briefly chat with while stuck in Buendia traffic. Before said chat, I was talking on my mobile with one of my friends who set a blind date for me. The taxi driver must have been listening and I was surprised to hear him saying "I don't really go for that type of thing."

"Type of what?" I asked.

"Blind dates. I'd rather meet the person first or have situations letting us meet."

Thinking about it, I realized I was like that too. And I still am too. Blind dates, textmates, penpals, chatmates  -  uh, uh. Not my cup of tea. But for this particular instance, I gave it a try. I went on a blind date but not without forcing my friend to reveal even the smallest of details about the guy just so I would know I wouldn't be going out with a creep.

The date turned out fine. And yes, just this afternoon, while texting my friend who set the blind date and at the same time, walking with Rex to Mercury Drug, I knew I may have possibly found another rare specimen of that category of guys

Oh no. No, no, no. I'm not stereotyping the guys. It just pleases me that there are still guys who would respect and protect you for what you are worth and more. That these guys wouldn't take advantage of your sensitivity or naivety and that even, simply through intuition, you'd comfortably feel their sincerity and humility. Definitely no pretensions.

Mga Tanong... Walang Katapusang Tanong

Binabasa mo kaya ang blog posts ko kapag inaalerto ka sa Yahoo email mo ng updates sa blog ko?

Binabasa mo kaya ang text messages ko? (Yung kagabi tungkol sa sakit ng ulo ko, it wasn't meant for you. It was really accidentally missent to you. Antok na ako noon. Masakit pa ang ulo ko. Bumpy pa ang ride to Laguna...)

Iniisip mo pa rin bang nagtatanim ako ng sama ng loob sa mommy mo?

Alam mo kayang araw-araw umiiyak ako at nasasaktan ako?

Naiisip mo ba ako?

Do you even care?

Naalala mo pa bang ako ang sinabihan mo na on our wedding day, I have nothing to think or worry about, basta I just have to be cute when that day comes?

Naalala mo pa bang ako ang sinabihan mo na if ever there's a girl you'd like to spend the rest of your life with, you want that girl to be just like me?

Does it still mean the same as it used to mean noon?

................

Kasama mo kaya siya ngayon?

E kagabi?

E noong isang gabi?

Niloloko ko lang ang sarili ko. Officemates nga sinabi kayo e. Hulaan ko kaya ang sagot?

"Presh, stop it. Mahal kita. You don't deserve it. Isn't it enough na pinagpalit ka niya?" sabi ng isang concerned na girl friend.

It just keeps on echoing in my head.

The image of you holding her hand, in a formal office attire which I've never seen you wear before, arriving in your office, not minding that you're already ten minutes late, keeps on coming back in my head. This was the day I died. The day when the "me who used to be in that girl's place before" died.

Ang hirap isipin na noong saktong isang linggo lang kamay ko ang hinahawakan ng kamay mo. Ang sakit isipin kung ano na kaya ang ginagawa ninyo ngayon.

"GAGA! Huwag ka ngang magpakatanga diyan!" ang mga salita ng isa pang kaibigan matapos kong sagutin ang tanong niya sa chat na "How are you" ng "I miss him... I still love him..."

Sa saliw ng tugtuging "Jealous" ni Nina at ng "Paalam Na" ni Rachel Alejandro (Sinabi ko na, how come I liked her songs noong mga panahong hindi pa kita kilala at hindi pa ako ganitong nasasaktan sa isang sitwasyong swak na swak sa mga lyrics ng kanta niya?!), nagpapakamasokista ako.

Ang hirap dayain ng sarili ko lalo't bumabalik sa ala-ala ko ang nasa peripheral vision ko nung nagkausap tayo sa boarding house mo. Nakatungo ka habang parang may pinahid ang dalawa mong daliri sa mga mata mo. Inaantok ka nga lang ba kasi ginising kita at kailangan mong pahirin ang mata mo para magising? O luha mo ang pinapahid mo?

Para na namang isang pelikula. Para na namang isang soap opera. Kagaya ng hindi iilang beses na paghihiwalay natin. Kagaya ng hindi iilang beses na walang ulit kong tinatanong kung babalik ka pa kaya sa akin?

"Kuya, ingatan ninyo po siya ha," sabi mo sa taxi driver bago kami tuluyang umalis na siya namang hindi nagawa ni mamang driver dahil may iba akong plano. Hindi pa nakakalayo ang taxi nang pinalitan ko ang P100 binayad mo ng P50 at bumaba ako kasi gusto kitang mayakap. Yun pala'y nasa malayo ka at nakatanaw. Balak mo pa yatang tingnang lumalayo ang taxi na siya namang hindi nangyari dahil nga sa bumaba ako.

Kunot ang noong nagtanong ka. Hindi ako nakasagot nang makita kong maraming lasing sa lugar na yun. Sa halip ay tumakbo ako palayo. Hinabol mo ako laluna siguro, siguro nang nakita mong muntik na akong mabangga ng FX.

"Damn it Earl, what are you doing?! 'Wag ka nang ma-guilty, I'll be safe," sabi ko ngunit ang gusto ko talagang sabihin ay gusto kitang mayakap na siyang hindi ko magawa dahil may mga babae tayong kasabay.

"Nothing," sabi mo.

Sa kanto hindi ko na kailangang sabihin. You hugged me. You said in a pained voice that's very familiar to me that you didn't want to say goodbye.

"Niloloko mo lang ang sarili mo. Pinaniniwala mo ang sarili mo na mahal ka pa niya," sabi ng isang bagong kaibigan sa PinoyExchange.

Niloloko ko nga lang ba ang sarili ko? O alam ko talaga ang naramdaman ko at nakita ko at narinig ko?

Ganun pa ba kita kakilala? That you're just confused? That you never really meant to hurt me? That you really tried not to hurt me? That you're really a good person?

Kung sakaling binabasa mo ito, magpapaalam na ako. Next week na pala ang date ko. It's a blind date. My friends are trying to help me forget. Can they? Can I?

I'm still holding on to your words, Earl, that I should not let you go.

Loving Rachel Alejandro

She has always been my idol. Her vocal range being one of the very few that I could possibly reach.

Ironically, her songs that I've always liked are the songs that define how I feel everytime I stumble and fall...

___________________

1994, SENTIMENTAL, Alpha Records
SENTIMENTAL features the multi-awarded track Paalam Na, a song she co-wrote with then-boyfriend Dingdong Avanzado. Little did she know, that despite the fact it was the song that was to establish her as one of the country's foremost female artists - the song was also a harbinger of things to come in her relationship with Avanzado. The song was, in part, based on a letter he once wrote to her.

"There's so much truth in every line of the song 'Paalam Na'. I was not prepared to say goodbye that time," Rachel pondered. "I am very emotional so I thought of writing a song in Tagalog based on Dingdong's letter."
_______________________

Nais ko lang malaman mo
Laman ng aking puso
Baka di na mabigyan ng ibang pagkakataon
Na sabihin ito sa `yo
`Di ko ito ginusto
Na tayo'y magkalayo
Nguni't di magkasundo
Damdamin laging `di magtagpo ohh
Paalam na aking mahal
Kay hirap sabihin
Paalam na aking mahal
Masakit isipin na kahit nagmamahalan pa
Puso't isipa'y magkaiba
Maaring `di lang laan sa isa't isa

Sana'y huwag mong isipin
Na pag-ibig ko'y di tunay
Dahil sa `yo lang nadama
Ang isang pag-ibig na walang kapantay
Nguni't masasaktan lang ang puso ang pagbibigyan
Kahit pamamaalam ang siyang bulong ng isipan
Paalam na aking mahal
Kay hirap sabihin
Paalam na aking mahal
Masakit isipin na kahit
nagmamahalan pa
Puso't isipa'y magkaiba
Maaring `di lang laan sa isa't isa

Darating sa buhay mo
Pag-ibig na laan sa `yo
At mamahalin ka niya
Nang higit sa maibibigay ko wohhhh
Paalam na aking mahal
Kay hirap sabihin
Paalam na aking mahal
Masakit isipin na kahit
nagmamahalan pa
Puso't isipa'y magkaiba
Maaring `di lang laan sa isa't isa...

Rubbing it in...

... so I could move on.

_________

Kita ko sa 'yong mga mata

Tila may nais sabihin ka

May pagbabago ba ngayon sa puso mo?

'Wag nang ilihim sa 'kin ay sabihin mo

Ang minamahal mo ba'y 'di na ako?

Dati araw-araw laging ako

Ang kausap at tinatawagan mo

Sulat at mga rosas na galing sa 'yo

Ngayo'y wala na kung naaalala mo

Ako ba'y 'di na mahal, sabihin mo

'Di ka ba nanghihinayang?

Kung mawawala na lamang

Ang ating pagmamahalan, bakit nagkaganyan?

'Di mo lang nalalaman

Na sadyang ikaw lamang

Ang iniibig ko at minamahal

At kahit mayron ka nang iba

Ang pag-ibig ko'y ikaw pa rin sinta

At kahit na nagbago ka na

Ang nadarama'y hindi mag-iiba...

The Art of Letting Go

Put away the pictures.
Put away the memories.
I put over and over
Through my tears
I've held them till I'm blind
They kept my hope alive
As if somehow that I'd keep you here
Once you believed in a love forever more?
How do you leave it in a drawer?

Now here it comes, the hardest part of all
Unchain my heart that's holding on
How do I start to live my life alone?
Guess I'm just learning,
Learning the art of letting go.

Try to say it's over
Say the word goodbye.
But each time it catches in my throat
Your still here in me
And I can't set you free
So I hold on to what I wanted most
Maybe someday we'll be friend's forever more
Wish I could open up that door

Now here it comes, the hardest part of all
Unchain my heart that's holding on
How do I start to live my life alone?
Guess I'm just learning,
Learning the art of letting go

Watching us fade
What can I do?
But try to make it through
the pain of one more day
Without you

Where do I start, to live my life alone?
I guess I'm learning, only learning,
Learning the art of letting go.

Too Much Too Soon

This is the song that describes you. Yes, I'd like to believe this describes you. How bitter and cruel fate could be. Just when I prayed not to think about it, there's someone, somehow, somewhere that underwent the same thing that you did.

_________________________

TOO YOUNG

(Jack Wagner)

Hello love it's been way too long

Since I realized that you're the most important thing in my life

I've gotta the need to tell you I know that I was wrong

Show you how I feel and what's goin' on

I don't know what to say

Except I love that girl so much

But I didn't show it

Started spreading myself too thin

Fool around thought she didn't know it

Such childish games I played I fooled her with my touch

Time has taught me so much

I'm grown enough to say

I was too young but that's no excuse

I had too much too soon I wanted more room

To please my restless youth

Now all this peace

I can't feel your bliss

You treated me so kind, you were all mine

But I just walk away

That sweet smile and face

Hangs heavy on my mind

Is there a way that you can turn back the hands

The more love that precious time I let slip by

I can't take much more of this

So I gotta try

To get you back and say

I was too young but that's no excuse

I had too much too soon I wanted more room

To please my restless youth

Now all this peace

I can't feel your bliss

You treated me so kind, you were all mine

And I just walk away

True love comes once in a lifetime

And if it's true then you'll be back in mine

___________________

Now if only you are, indeed, really feeling the same way. Do I still know you enough to conclude you feel this way? Maybe... maybe not.

Ours was a beautiful memory. You were the best I ever had. But you took everything for granted. Now of course you might not know that I love you enough to let you find your happiness. Yes, I am letting you go. But God I pray that when I see you again someday, I would have only remembered how good we were and the bitterness would have already been washed away by the seemingly endless stream of tears.

Your mom said a lot of untrue, hurtful and insulting things about me for something that I did to you to avenge my dignity as the one person who was faithful to you till the very end but you instead chose to lie to.

For the many times you've hurt me before, I didn't slap you. My parents didn't say bad things about you. They always made it a point to see both sides. Yes, they taught me well.

I would have accepted and not slapped you had you only answered truthfully my question if there's another girl when you broke up with me. It doesn't matter if you have a relationship with her during the time Kuya Jon and I saw you. Holding hands... That's tantamount to something. I am not stupid. It means the same thing  -  the same painful truth that maybe, just maybe, God willed for me to see.

For the record, I never went to your office to make amends with you or beg for you to take me back. I went there, thinking I was the one at fault; trusting and believing in your words that no girl's involved. I went there to check up on you as I was worried that you still insisted on going to work even if you were not feeling well.

Thank you for everything. Again, you are a beautiful memory.

But right now, I just don't want to fight for my for you anymore...

Then again...

___________________

Bakit Ba Iniibig Ka

Erik Santos & Regine Velasquez 

Ang sabi mo sa akin

Tayong dalawa'y magmamahalan lagi

Ang sabi mo sa akin

Tayo'y magtatagal

Tunay ang iyong pagmamahal

Ngunit ang lahat ng iyong pangako

Hindi makatotohanan

Kahit ito'y aking inaasam

Chorus

Bakit ba inibig ka

Ang puso ko nagyo'y nangangamba

Kung ika'y nararapat ko bang tanggapin

Bakit ba hindi ko magawang iwasan ang iyong tingin

Nagyon ang puso mo'y mayroong umaangkin

Dapat bang pigilin ang nadarama

Kahit tayo'y laging nagkikita

Wag na tayong umasa

Sa pag-ibig na ito

Masasaktan lamang tayo

Pagkat ang mga pangarap

Hindi mangyayari

Habang sa ati'y may nagmamay-ari

Repeat chorus

Hindi ko kaya ang mawala ka

Hindi ko kayang mag-isa

Tulungan mo akong malimot ka

Pagkat di na dapat pang ibigin ka

I have barely moved on and now, this...

We both promised we'd work things out, we'd make it through, no matter what...

You told me not to let you go...

Where do we go from here? ='(

_____________________________________________

My shattered dreams and broken heart
Are mending on the shelf
I saw you holding hands, standing close to someone else
Now I sit all alone wishing all my feeling was gone
I gave my best to you, nothing for me to do
But have one last cry

Chorus:
One last cry, before I leave it all behind
I’ve gotta put you outta my mind this time
Stop living a lie
I guess I’m down to my last cry

Cry......

I was here, you were there
Guess we never could agree
While the sun shines on you
I need some love to rain on me
Still I sit all alone, wishing all my feeling was gone
Gotta get over you, nothing for me to do
But have one last cry

One last cry, before I leave it all behind
I’ve gotta put you outta my mind this time
Stop living a lie
I know I gotta be strong
Cause round me life goes on and on and on
And on.....

I’m gonna dry my eyes
Right after I had my
One last cry

The Art of Flirting

There are girls who are simply effortless in attracting guys because of their sheer physical beauty.

There are girls who are effortless as well in attracting guys but who may not necessarily be as beautiful as those belonging to the first group.

There are girls who are not as fortunate physically and conclusion says what is often stated obviously as regards their interaction with the descendants of Adam.

There are girls who are also not as fortunate when the heavens showered gifts of physical aesthetics that are within the confines of society's judgment of beauty but are nevertheless lucky when it comes to finding companionship and yes, love.

And then, there are girls like me.

Extremes? I fall somewhere in between.

I'm not the mestiza/chinita type. I'm a morena. I did not even reach the minimum height requirement for international beauty pageant contestants but I've managed to at least overtake Ate Glo and reach Britney Spears (yep, I'm her height . . . well, almost) and have myself accommodated nicely in local contests of beauty, not only once, but many times over. I have doe-shaped dark brown eyes, nose that is neither too high nor too low and a "gifted" body type, add to that a brain that is thankfully sensitive enough not to apply the words “kill joy” and “clueless” whenever, wherever and however necessary. In short, I’d like to believe I’m just right.

But when I do try to shape up what with modern society dictating that it’s okay for us females to initiate the move, lo and behold! The result is always more than drastic, more than remorseful, more than what feels like the end of the world that I just want nothing but to have a gigantic stop and rewind buttons installed on my entire being.

A friend once asked me how to attract guys and consequentially, how to act in their presence. Feeling rather grateful and at the same time, flattered, that this girl, who was instrumental in helping me come “gracefully” out of my shell, was eagerly asking me tips as if I was some sort of an expert. In a nutshell, I relayed to her the art of flirting, my style.

Knowing that I could never be like those girls who seem to effortlessly draw guys to them as I’ve been informed over and over again by those “concerned” that I am the intimidating type, I told my friend that those in our league should first know who should be our target, a vital factor in determining whether or not we’ll win in the rat race called, sheesh, “love”.

Our target should be the ones who we know would fall prey to how we look and what we do. No matter what the cost of entering what was purely a man’s domain, our target should preferably at least be “worthy” and “decent” enough to talk to and be with. Whatever the quoted words’ scope is, that’s for us to know.

Next step is doing the assignment. Yes, we should do the dirty work called research. It’s hard. But it doesn’t take a rocket scientist or a terrorist to know that stupidity breeds forced inevitability. Gibberish talk? Translation: Rather than falling flat on our face before a man whom we thought likes ice cream but hates wasabi, we should better avoid the Nihonggo talk and charm our way into determining his flavours of the month.

Already way too liberal? Wait ‘till the next step. It is all about aiming straight for the guy’s eyes to catch his attention. But be careful not to appear so obvious that it is already much too creepy or worse, gratifying for the guy’s growing head. Ten feet away from the apple of one’s eye or at least at a distance that is neither too far nor too near, we should make our presence known by staring straight into the guy’s eyes that he starts dabbling with utter confusion on whether we’re boring right through him or we’re just really looking at something that is blocked by his physical presence.

Feels like it all ends there? No siree! If our guys finally approach and initiate a conversation, talk the talk. Real talk. No pretensions. We should summon our highest intellect so he’d know that we’re of the no-nonsense type. But if the talk leads to something we’re really dying for to be brought up, keep it real but be casual about it. No dilly dallies. No beating around the bush. Let those guys feel we know what we want but that we’re also capable of stepping our foot down if the manageable becomes much too unmanageable.

And finally, it ends there. The art of flirting.

Seems too good to be true? Not for me. Up to now I still wonder why I’m scaring all the good guys away. Maybe I’m too intimidating. Maybe the word “easy” for this art of flirting still means cheap talk and not real liberty from the rules of this patriarchal society.

100+ Pogi Points

Maybe it was the pain that caused me hallucinating to the most wonderful of levels when you woke me up and lovingly gave the medicine to me.

I thought I died and went to heaven when I saw your angelic face, surrounded by white light and you garbed in the most wonderful of formal clothes that highlighted your best features...

And then I choked... Ugh, I could not swallow the Kremil-S - it's nasty sweet-bitter aftertaste still in my mouth! As I took a second look at you I realized you were not wearing long sleeves dark blue polo shirt and khaki pants. Instead, you were wearing a dark blue jacket, white shirt and jeans. So much for dozing off and being awoken abruptly! But really... I could have sworn to the highest of heavens and challenged every bit of my sanity that you were wearing those long sleeves had I not been immersed in utter stomach pain...jeez...of all things...

And then I thought..."In that vision, I saw the guy I will certainly want to spend the rest of my life with..."

_________

P.S. Oh, did I say that you earned 100 + pogi points from taking care of me that night regardless of the clothes you were wearing? =)

When will you ever see the "me" in me?

I thought last night was the perfect night.

I told you that I might just have to trim down so I could join the Ms. National Press Club next April and you said something about "bachelorhood" and "getting tired". I didn't get it at first and you had to, for four times, repeat what you said so I could understand. And when I finally understood what it meant, you had to take it back as just no more than a joke. But it was wonderful to have heard it from you just the same.

In the semi-darkness of the movie house, you were simply gorgeous. You looked really, really cute what with your fair complexion, boy-next-door-charms-and-haircut, your dark blue jacket, khaki pants and a wonderful whiff of your cologne all combining to make every girl who would have seen us together wish that we are not "together". Then I abruptly said "I'm crazy about you" and right away comfortably snuggled in your heavenly arms. And you kissed me on the forehead.

On our way out of the crowded mall, you told me to wait for you near the door, that you just had to do something. My fickle senses on high alert, I thought you saw a girl you once really liked and just had to leave me in the middle of nowhere when you reappeared with a heart-shaped purple balloon for me. I thought it was cute. Really cute that I chose to ride a bumpy jeep instead of the LRT of whose lady guard just simply won't let me in until I take away the air off the balloon (as if I look like a maniac who would blow the LRT again!).

And then you said something about the movie we just saw. You mentioned something that I don't want to hear lest I want to have my ultra-sensitive me get hurt again. It was really an innocent remark, that is, if I won't let my sensitive me get the better out of my rational me.

"How come some people, when they see a person, they instantly know that he/she's the right one for them and that they'd do anything, even die for them, just to see them happy?"

....and along with a number of things that had my sensitive me interpreting:

"Will you ever see that I just maybe the one for you? I thought you acknowledged that...a couple of years before when, remember, you kept on calling me 'Ms. Right'? Or was it just a passing fancy? Why the change? Haven't I done enough to have the tides change and the wind shift to OUR favor?"

Or I guess I'll just have to wait and pray that someday, God will grant that time make you see that maybe, just maybe, you'll see the "me" who wants nothing else but for you to say "After all this time, after all the waiting and looking, you're just here all along, the one for me."

_________
"Nariyan ka lang pala, pinagod pa ang puso ko. Pero teka, sandali lang, may sasabihin ako sa 'yo. Hindi kaya ikaw? Baka ikaw na nga. Meron ka bang nadarama? Akala ko'y wala. Parang ngayon, sa tingin ko, sa kilos mo't galaw, siguro nga, ikaw na yon. Ano kaya? Ikaw ba yon? Siguro nga, ano kaya? Baka ikaw..." (Baka Ikaw, The Company)

(Not) Another Article About Love

Love is an odd revelation of sorts. Its many facets can reveal mothers, fathers, siblings and bestfriends all in one persona. Even the god of love will surely come up with nothing when asked to explain why the
inexplicable is done when one is in love (anyway, his only role is to make people fall in love, not have people kill or climb the highest mountains because of love).

In our lifetime, we may have perhaps stumbled upon multitudes and multitudes of lessons about love. From poetic maxims to desperate pleas, from boob tube exploits to real life remnants or pieces of evidence of love both lost and gained, each tells of a scenario or an experience with different lessons learned or waiting to be discovered.

Now many times have we encountered how an oppressed party claims unfair treatment when a loved one falls out of love. The latter, on the other hand, with great and sincere difficulty, tries to admit favoring
another but still ends up as the oppressor, the two-timer, the heartbreaker. Various experiences may also perhaps tell of how we cannot imagine ourselves as falling for someone way below our expectations but eventually ending up with persons belonging to what we suppose to have considered as in the category of our mediocre standards. And then over and over again, we try to cover and clean up our acts by justifying how and why we have fallen the way we did.

It was a quite uneventful night, while crossing a boulevard, I thought of the oddity of love as this way: Sure I am in love, but how much can I really love a person? Do I try to make my loved one what I want him or her to be or do I let that loved one grow as a better person while with me? If after he or she becomes invalid or physically (and maybe, mentally) disabled, can I still proclaim to the whole world that my love for him or her is the same as it was before? Can I imagine living a single second of my life without seeing a certain thing and relating it to experiences with my loved one? And in the end, after all the difficulties and hardships, can I consequently announce that everything is worth it?

I would like to believe that anyone who has the capability of loving and being loved have these questions as our common ground. Each answer counts. Each figure sums up the truthfulness and wholeness of our love to a person - whether a partner, a friend or a parent.

For as long as the intention is sincere and good, no boundaries like belief, religion, race, caste or education could distort the infinite possibilities love can bring.

My answer to the questions above? I cannot come clean and speak that I am, all at once, able to love with no strings attached. But this I can definitely say: I have learned that loving and being loved are
unanimous to growing as a more mature individual, independent of the constraints of choking conditions and expectations in a commitment that is suppose to be free and voluntary. If after any of my loved one
becomes crippled (God forbid), I am crossing my fingers that my actions and emotions are as good as my mouth if I say that my love is still the same and all the more increasing, sans the degrading misinterpretation of love being interchanged with mercy and pity. And in the end, after
everything that's been said, felt and done, I know that my heart and mind can consequently and unanimously declare that every second of memory is worth all the strength, joy and pain invested.