Whenever I try to write our story, it always ends with rain. I may not know where to begin but I've always known its ending. Cue rainfall. Soft but steady downpour. The romantic in me is convinced it started with a smile but I know it started with a very nasty generalization. But whatever, it doesn't matter now. What matters is this: Me, right now, staring at a paragraph of my own handwriting; writing about you.
You know I never liked my handwriting. But you don't care about that. What you care about is what I write. What I care about is what you think of what I write. You were not that hard to please but you were the one I most wanted to please. You actually think I'm a genius at this. I think that is just because you don't read much. Still, you made your praises sound believable. At one point, I no longer cared if you read the most intimate things I've written. Even the ones I wrote in gradeschool. You used the word "adorable". I can still see your face, You were trying so hard not to laugh, then I caught your eye, and really, there was nothing we cannot laugh about. I was certain, it was at that moment I knew I want to have you for keeps.
The thing I love most is it's just so easy to be me around you. I don't even know why. There was no need for pretensions, no masks, no walls. It's, you know, nice.
I miss you sometimes. Like when I did something I know you are going to be proud of. I climbed a mountain without complaining. I even tried rappelling. Or when I badly needed to laugh. Like now. I miss talking to you. I miss your opinions. I don't always like them but I love hearing them, no matter how unbelievable they may be. Even if they totally oppose mine. It's so fun to argue with you. Especially since we always end every argument as friends. Well, except that last one; I'm sorry about that. I really am. If only I'm not me, things would have worked out differently. But liked I said; you made me so comfortable, there was no other way but to be me. So here it goes: cue rainfall. We have to hide the tears. Stronger downpour this time.
********************
then for that other boy at the other side of the city
Natitiyak ko
sa iyong mga mata isinilang
ang lungsod na ito.
Isa akong lagalag na hinahanap
at dito ako napadpad.
wala na akong balak umalis.
ayoko ko nang umalis.
Lisanin man ang bayang ito ng mga
nnangangarap na kanyang inampon
at kinalinga. hindi ako tutulad
sa kanila.
paano ko iiwan ang bayang ito
kung ito ang kapitolyo ng pag-ibig,
ang tahanan ng tuwa,
silangan ng awit at tula?
Balot man sa putik at alikabok
lango man sa gutom at pawis
kaaya-aya pa rin ang ngiti.
Lalo na sa dapit-hapon
tuwing umaawit ang baybayin.
Sumasamo sa lahat ng nagmamahal.
Narito ang pangarap. narito ang mithi.
At habang naaaninag ko
ang pagsayaw ng kulay,
sa iyong mukha. hindi ko
mapigilang isipin.
narito nga.
narito nga.
