Relapse

You were smiling at me from across the corridor, just as I remember you doing it. Your bespectacled eyes seemed to reach out for me, and right there and then, I realized this was all but a part of me wanting to see you in person again. And I was bound to savor each moment of it, even in my sleep.

But thinking back, of all the times when I knew I should have let go, somehow, I just couldn’t fully get over you yet. It was never the lust that kept me looking for you, nor the hopes of us being together like every single girl back then, wanted to be with you, but the mere idea that we were good friends, and that you regarded me differently than our other classmates kept me in this illusion.

But after all these years, my unconscious continues to fail me. I never really did let go of you completely. I just hope, like summer, this is bound to last indefinitely.

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My Five Minutes in Heaven

And there it was.

Another memory to fill my lonely nights. Another living nightmare to haunt me in broad daylight. Another story I could’ve written a better ending to. But there it was. An ending too soon to be felt.

Oh, too soon.

How I long to repress this at the back of my mind. A blissful encounter, which I suppose was kept brief for a very good reason. Like the changing of the seasons, it came. Like the changing of the seasons, it left.As we stepped out of the walls that confined us, nothing felt the same anymore. We talked, and laughed as moonlight shined down on us lonely creatures – who felt the longing to be loved, and to be loved accordingly in return.

Lips the like April rose. A warmth like sunny rays of May. With the euphoria felt in June, we stayed in that cabin. The torrid winds of July, I felt his chest in mine. Hearts beating to the adrenaline rush that came with our affections. And like the August rain, reality came pouring down on us, until it washed everything away.

It drifted me apart from you, in the calamity that was us.

And there it was: the final say.

I held your hand one more time, this time not with hope, but with uncertainty – for what happens when day breaks is something I cannot tell – like the secrets we had in that cabin. Was five minutes enough, to tell?

Or would it take me longer to forget?

Mirror..Mirror

When I look in the mirror, I see nothing.

A blank slate. A newly created canvas. Emptiness. Nothing.

Long have I been hoping to see something from this void that I am in. A future, perhaps? Something which is to be foretold, something I should have been looking forward to in this lifetime of mine? Or something that should have unraveled to me a long time ago?

I remember having dreamt of something like that back then – my elusive vision of what I would be a few years from now: a happy home, a great career, someone to be with when my hair turned grey; an early hike to the mountain summit, to see the rising sun above the horizon, or watching the sun set on the beach while holding hands with the person I will spend my days with.

Was the dream to abrupt to be fulfilled?

In this dark room, with only the lights coming from the small square of a window, the lights of the city illuminate this damp cell. With only the lost hopes of a bright future, I live out the shattered days.

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Ripped into the Headline

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11:45 AM 6/9/2014

Manila, Philippines – After a long hiatus during the Christmas and the Summer Breaks, long time college blogger Joshua Jimenez (@sijoshjimenez) resumes the continuum of blog posts for his WordPress Blog, ‘Tidbits’.

“Yes, it has been a long time since I updated my blog. I have been pretty busy for a long time, especially this May up to early June coz I was preoccupied with the enrollment procedures, and keeping the house clean”, said Jimenez through an interview.

According to Jimenez, a more frequent surge of posts, with the help of The Daily Post’s ‘365 Days of Writing Prompts’ – a day to day list of awesome writing prompts to challenge, inspire and motivate any blogger into writing the whole year around. “It will definitely be a challenge for me, but because most of the people who read my works are looking forward to be coming back to WP (WordPress) to blog again, it makes all the difference – because they inspire me to write awesome poetry, and prose for all the world to see, and share”.

Jimenez also included that he will be starting his blog again early this week.

 

Ephemeral

It was another Wednesday evening. The clock struck 7 o’clock, and I was waiting at the door. Nobody was home, except me. Mom had to go out, and I asked her if I could just catch up. As much as I wanted to leave the house, I was more eager to wait for the person about to enter our doorsteps at this hour of night.
7:30, and it was raining. I see you outside, holding an umbrella. I waved my hand to tell you it was free to go in. You dropped your bag on the couch, and you hugged me so tight like a husband who came home from work. I caught myself surprised, but I didn’t bother. I was in your arms again, and you were in mine.

You followed me to the kitchen and asked me what I was cooking for ‘our’ dinner. I told you, ‘Its your favorite soup, and there’s steak. Also the Iced Tea’s on the fridge’. You didn’t need me to tell you that. You were already wrapping your arms behind me, kissing my neck, while I was stirring the meal on the saucepan.

I shoved you a little, and joked that I might get turned on. You pout a little, and with a kiss on your cheek, you smile and sat on the chair. I ask you about your day, just like a wife would, to her dutiful husband on his tiring day of work. You told me, the story that I made for you aced the class, and a wide smile flashed on your face. It was heartwarming, and I blushed while serving you your dinner. You sat beside me, and fed me while your arms wrapped my shoulders.

When we were done with the dishes, you laid down on bed. I came up behind you and you hugged me so tight. It was a week-long absence from each other, since the Midterms were somehow very busy. I laid on your chest, and you smelled of my favorite perfume. You held me so close, then. Held me with those arms that kept me safe. Kept me warm. Kept me calm. Your love had that magic that you cast over me. It was habit forming, and made me long for you even more, when you’re away.

I looked at my phone’s clock: It was 8:30. I knew that you had to go home soon, but I resisted. I missed you so much. And I just can’t let you leave that early. You held my hand, and made me face you. Our lips touched each other, and like a fire ablaze, amidst the cool rain, we were now bare at each other’s presence. If it could only last the whole night through.. If only it could.

Almost an hour passed, and you told me you really had to go. Then you saw tears. Tears? From the pain? No. I was numb about it. It was because you were going to leave again tonight. I held your hand, and you kissed my forehead, and you went off and said ‘Goodbye’. Time flew past us once more, in this story that never even got close to Midnight. And like the Love we once knew to love, came down as ephemeral.

Glimpse of You

I took a second glance on the guy who sat infront of me in the jeepney. There was this feeling in me that made me think twice if I should say ‘hi’ to this good-looking guy wearing a striped polo shirt, and what seemed like a foldable pair of reading glasses in his pocket.

He was fair-skinned and had rather messy hair. His nose seemed perfect, and he smelled of my favorite cologne. The urge has been battling inside of me if it was really him. Perhaps a look-alike? Maybe so.

These thoughts kept running in my head, when unexpectedly, in between glances that I throw to this guy, he suddenly looked at me, and gave me a weak smile.

Shit! I was so caught off guard right there and then! I smiled back, just to fend off the awkward situation that befell me, and looked the other way. But I would glimpse an instance or two, towards this bespectacled guy. I just couldn’t help it. Yes, in a way he did remind me of you and how I once looked at you beside me inside the classroom.

You would ask me why, then I would smile and tell you to stop minding me and my weirdness. And then, you’d turn loose sheets of paper on your desk, or the back of your notebook into instant sketchpads, with a pen on your hand. I still kept some of them, and smile whenever I remember you sketch our favorite anime characters. We shared a liking for music, and I still kept that pair of Katekyo Hitman Reborn! Headphones you gave me for Christmas, and whenever I think of you, I use them while listening to my favorite songs. I broke all my other earphones, but for 3 years, I’ve had it with me, with all the stuff that we shared.

I would glimpse an instance, or two, and saw all your actions through this guy infront of me. The way he took off his glasses, it kills me inside, that for the longest time that I have kept you locked inside my heart, someone who actually resembles you, makes me remember you once more. Has it been a year already since we last chatted? I can’t remember quite well. But the late night conversations we had, would always be in my heart, no matter what.

I’ve been with other guys, since then, but I always looked for you in them. I’ve seen other girls, since then, but you’ve made me cry like no one can.

I alight the jeep, and I was sure enough it wasn’t you. But the brief encounter, how absurd it may sound, I’ll admit, it made me happier. It made me whole.

Surprise Package

For some reason, mixed emotions and random thoughts rushed through my mind as I saw a familiar pouch of cloth outside my doorstep last night. I wasn’t really sure how I was to react, but the first thing that came into my mind was to look for the person who left the brown Starbucks Planner pouch in front of our screen gate. An urgency came to my senses, and a pounding heartbeat made me go back to the jeepney stop, hoping that I might still see a glimpse of him there. Dear reader, do not misunderstand – this was not because of longing, nor was it because I waited for him to come. Maybe right now, I may not be able to find the particular words for it, but rest assured, no stirred up emotions would ever come back.

I reached the jeepney stop, but failed to see the guy who left the small sack of cloth. I assumed that he left in a rush, and went back to my house and picked up the pouch. (I actually bothered looking for him first before picking up the Starbucks Pouch. How silly of me. Hahaha.) I went inside and dropped the stuff that I bought at the convenience store, and stared at the notebook which I gave to him ten months ago – pages filled with sweet nothings and messages in blue ink, memories kept and written from the very first day I got it, up to his eighteenth birthday last March. I once wondered if he ever wrote on the notebook as I asked him to, back then. So when I skimmed through the pages, the back portion of the notebook did surprise me, as a letter, in his fading blue ink pen filled the last portions of the notebook.

(to be continued)