Tag Archives: relationship

A Letter to the Boy Who Never Wanted to Fall in Love with Me

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I am not the girl you expected to fall in love with.

I am not the girl your friends would want you to hang out with, not the girl you’d proudly show off to them.

No, I am not the girl you want.

I don’t have that perfect body you used to fantasize about. I don’t have the perfect hair you dreamed of running your fingers through. I don’t wear the clothes that you used to see as you glanced on those fashion magazines.

I cannot go along with the things you love. I can’t play sports with you. I don’t play those video games you love. I don’t listen to the songs that you like. I don’t go out to party. I barely get out of the house.

I am everything you hate.

I am clumsy and look unkempt most of time – I barely remember to comb my hair, makeup is a chore. I’d always rather choose to stay at home than party. My idea of having fun is reading books and staying in.

I am everything you do not want.

I am not the girl your mother used to warn you about, warned you to stay away from.

I am the girl your father told you about – the girl he let go, the one your mother never knew about. I am the girl, he said, that would change your life – for the better, for the worse.

And yet you fell for me, and for that I apologize.

I, too, do not understand.

I never wanted to make you miserable because you can’t change me into the girl you’ve always dreamed about.

Was it the conversations, the way I made you realize that you’re not shallow at all?

Was it the way I made you laugh?

Was it the way I made you feel that you’re more than what you think you are?

Whatever the reason is, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you fell in love with me and I’m sorry I’m not the woman you dreamed I would be.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry that you’d never pick me up for a party; instead, you’d be struggling to pick me up after each wave of my depression hit.

I’m sorry that you’d never taste beer from my lips; instead, you’d taste my tears.

I’m sorry that you’d never see me in fishnets and lingerie; instead, you’d get to see the scars and bruises of my body.

I’m sorry for putting you through things you shouldn’t even be dealing with.

But let me make up for it.

Let me be the girl who’d support you all through out.

Let me be the girl who’d memorize every curve and plane of your face, of your body.

Let me be the girl who’d hold you as you chased the terrors of your nightmares away at night.

Let me be the girl who’d remember by heart your little quirks and habits.

Let me be the girl who won’t change you, but instead be there for you, be with you, as you discover who you are.

Let me be the girl who’d immortalize you through her poetry. Let me write stories about you.

Let me be the girl who’d fight for you, no matter what happens.

Let me be the girl who’d choose you over and over again.

Let me be the girl who’d stay with you through your ups and downs.

Let me be the girl who’d never walk away.

Let me be the girl who’d love you completely.

Let me be the girl you’d never regret unexpectedly falling in love with.

Danger in Your Eyes

The first time I saw you
I saw the dark glint of
Danger in those  brown eyes
I saw the depth of anger
Behind the cold facade
I saw the evil
Lurking
Beckoning
Calling
Seducing
You’re the guy
My momma warned me about
Made horror stories out of
Scars left
On your victim’s body
You’re the guy
My momma made me swore
To never fall for
Because there’s
Danger in those brown eyes
But
The smirk that comes
On those lips
That cater to cigarettes
Dazes my innocence
The poetry that comes
Out of that mouth
That exhales smoke
Captures my thoughts
Blinding me to the
Danger in those brown eyes
The rage and pain I took
As I press my lips on
Those tainted smile
Stood still as my body shook
As I felt the loving
You had to offer
Closed my eyes as the world spins
Yet in the shadows of my
Fading vision I see the
Danger in those brown eyes
Your love’s knives cut
Deeper than my blades
The wounds you left open
Bleed and stain the sheets
But my love
I still offer
Myself
Wholeheartedly
Doubtlessly
To you
Anything
Just to look at the
Danger in those brown eyes

Sa Mata ng Kontrabida

Hindi ko sinasadya
Di ko sinasadyang mahulog sayo
Di ko sinasadyang hanap-hanapin ka ng puso ko
Di ko sinasadyang mahulog sa lalaking may ibang laman ang puso.

Lagi akong nakakarinig ng mga kwento ng pagkasawi sa pag-ibig
At ang laging dahilan ng kanilang sakit
Ay yung ipagpapalit sila sa iba
Puro galit at pait ang nararamdaman ng taong naiwan
Puro kagaguhan naman daw ang alam ng taong nang-iwan
Pero ni minsan wala akong narinig na simpatya para sa kontrabida

Ang akala kasi ng lahat
Kapag ikaw ang bago, pakiramdam mo ikaw na ang panalo
Totoo, pakiramdam mo ikaw ang pinakamagandang babae sa buong mundo
Ikaw ang pinili eh
Pero madaling mawala ang ilusyon

Masakit maramdaman na lagi kang pangalawa
Na lagi kang huli
Na sa bawat masasayang minuto na kasama mo sya
Maiisip mo, “Ginawa rin kaya to nila?”
Na sa mga sandaling kayakap mo sya
Gusto mong magtanong kung ganun din ba sya kahigpit yakapin noon
O baka higit pa?
Na sa bawat dampi ng labi mo sa labi nya
Tatanungin mo ang sarili mo, “Kasintamis ba ng halik ko ang sa kanya?”
Na sa bawat gabing katabi mo syang mahimbing na natutulog, wala kang ibang maisip kundi “Ako kaya ang napapanaginipan nya, o sya?”
Na sa bawat pag gising mas nya, tinatakot ka ng posibilidad na nagsisisi na sya na ikaw ang pinili nya.

Kahit kailan di ka mapapanatag dahil alam mong
Tulad ng nakaraang relasyon nya
Wala kayong kasiguraduhan
Lagi kang magagambala ng takot
Na baka sa pag gising mo’y wala na sya
Tulad ng pagkawala nya sa nakalipas nya

Napakahirap magmahal pero mas
Mahirap magmahal kapag alam mong may kakumpetensya ka
Mahirap magmahal kapag alam mong may nasaktan ka
Mahirap magmahal kapag alam mong ang puso’t isip nya ay punong-puno ng bakas ng taong pinalitan mo
Mahirap magmahal kapag alam mong sa mata ng lahat
Ikaw ang kontrabida

Last Night

He was standing there, one hand in the pocket of his jeans, the other holding the roll of cannabis resting between his lips. The pungent smell of smoke emanated off him, billowing in wisps in the air. He was silent – his arrogant, lopsided smile on those lips, his eyes boring holes into hers.

She was sitting on the floor, exhausted, naked except for the blanket that’s providing her protection, her eyes bloodshot from her crying that started the night before. She was tired – she hasn’t eaten nor slept. And yet he has the audacity to touch her, to demand her body’s submission. How dare him.

He didn’t want to force her. He cherished her… but last night. Last night he wasn’t the man he is. He was fucked. He was stoned, and she started screaming about his “irresponsibility”. He snapped, angry that his buzz was destroyed. He didn’t want to hold tight her thin wrists in his fists, didn’t want to cover her mouth as she screamed for him to stop, to get off, to have pity, to please, please stop.

She didn’t want to beg. It was beneath her. But last night, she swallowed her pride, and pleaded for the man she thought she knew, to stop. Tears were streaming on her face, yet he ignored it. Something in her broke – she willed for her body to separate from her soul. She wants out. She wants to escape.

He knew it was wrong. But he can’t stop – she was like a drug, and he was hooked. He had let go of her hands, and she was thrashing, writhing, against him, her nails digging in his back, raking, drawing blood. He was travelling between pain and pleasure, he was hooked. And he wanted more.

The pillows swallowed her tears as she submitted to his domination. His hands were rough and hard on her. She’s already sure of the bruises that will appear on her hips, her thighs, her shoulders, and her back. His lips, though, were a contrast of his hands: sweet and feathery kisses travelled through her skin. Until they reached her nape, and bit hard. Another bruise. She felt him pull her hair, and she prayed he’d pull hard enough to extinguish all the oxygen in her brain, so that her heart would do the thinking.

Her whimpers sent him over the edge. As he lay on top of her, kissing her back, he felt her heart hammering. He felt her struggle to get him off, but he held his place. He kissed her shoulder, rested his head between her shoulder blades. He knew he was hurting her, his weight too much for her thin body. He knew he hurt her.

She felt empty, dirty and tainted. He had never done this before; she’s now questioning the love he said he has for her. She struggled to get him off; he did, after a while, feeling her discomfort. Her tears started to fall again as she turned her back to him. She felt his arm pull her close, and as he rested his head on her shoulder, he cried his apology.

She felt his tears on her shoulder, sliding down. She felt his body shudder as sobs wracked his body. Her heart clenched. She knew she shouldn’t forgive him. She knew this is wrong. But at this point, she doesn’t care anymore. The hazy smoke has clouded her judgment perhaps, but fuck it, she doesn’t care anymore. She turned to look into his eyes and kiss him on the lips. As she moved atop him, savouring her slow descent, his hands strong yet gentle on her waist, she kissed his tears away. This is her, this is him. This is them. Eyes locked, fingers intertwined, together they knew, this is right.

Ten

One

If my tear-stained sheets and mascara-smeared pillows could talk

They would speak of my desperation and death each day

Two

I’ve always loved the night

For I find comfort in the dark

But how can I embrace the shadows

If every time I close my eyes I see you?

Three

You are the best thing that ever happened to me

Four

You are the worst thing that ever happened to me because

Five

I love you

I love you like it’s the only thing I can do best

I love you like you’re the air I’m struggling to breathe

I love you like you’re the blood running in my veins but

Six

I was just the bandage to your wounds

When she slashed your heart and left you bleeding

Having eaten nothing but her old messages

Seven

I was there for you

I gave my everything to you

I even let you use my own flesh and blood to reconstruct your broken heart but

Eight

Eight

When the wounds healed, the scars spelled out her name

But you know what hurts the most? It’s when

Nine

You let her open your wounds again

And you come running back to me, begging for another reconstructive surgery

Not realizing that because I gave you my heart to use

It was my heart she killed when you let her run you over again

Ten

I am broken

I am dead

I have nothing more to give

Because nothing to me has been left

And I,

I will be forever marred

By the scars that will always, always

Spell out your name.

Assumptions

When I was little, I thought love was magical, eternal.  I thought wrong.

Growing up in a house torn by flames of ice and screams of silence, I thought love was impossible. I thought wrong.

The first boy who made me smile despite my fears, I thought he was love. I thought wrong.

The first man who made me follow my heart, I thought he was love. I thought wrong.

The first man who made me fight, I thought he was love. I thought wrong.

I’ve collected a notebook full of all my assumptions

I’ve stored a memory full of my thoughts

I’ve kept a heart full of tears and pain, sealed it with an ice chain, and threw the key into my river of wrath.

I am alone.

I am happy.

I am strong.

I thought wrong.

The first man who listened to what I have to say, I thought he was love.

The first man who made me feel like I belong, I thought he was love.

The first man who faced my fears with me, I thought he was love.

The first man who gave warmth to my cold heart, I thought he was love.

The first man who brought light to my dark soul, I thought he was love.

I thought right.

But he has stolen my heart and ran away with it

And now all I have left is a gaping hole in my chest,

Which only his name could fill.

I thought love could kill.

I thought right – it always will.

Nostalgia

I miss you
Like a grass plucked from the field
Like a shell washed from the shore
I miss you
Like a bottle thrown out to the sea
Like a tree uprooted from its home
I miss you
Like the love always needed
Like the comfort always wanted
I miss you
Like an angel thrown out of heaven
Like the devil taken from hell
I miss you
Like how I miss my home
Like how my heart aches for yours
I miss you

Happiness

February 1, 2015.
I wonder if you still remember that day. I do. It was the day you asked me that question: “How would you define happiness?”
It started everything.
My answer varied from time to time.
After months of being in love with you, here’s my answer:
Happiness is seeing your messages on my phone.
Happiness is going through our conversations.
Happiness is waiting for your free time.
Happiness is the moment your name appears whenever you call.
Happiness is hearing you sing for me.
Happiness is making up after days of fighting.
Happiness is asking for forgiveness every time I push you away.
Happiness… is not always there but..
Happiness is knowing you want someone else but still stayed with me.
Happiness is picking myself back up again after you broke me.
Happiness is when you chased me again when I gave up on you.
Happiness is you putting me back together after I inadvertently broke myself again.
Happiness is seeing you change.
Happiness is feeling that finally.. this love isn’t unrequited anymore.
Happiness is loving you unconditionally.
Happiness is holding your hand.
Happiness is looking at your eyes.
Happiness is being with you.
Happiness is knowing that I can  love more than I thought I can.
Happiness is being loved by you.
Happiness is loving you.
You’re my definition of happiness.

I’m Not Her

 

Looking at your smile hurts.

 

I’ve been staring at you for the last half hour or so, just following you around, trying to get a glimpse of your face. Not that you know; I’m too scared to even think about how you would react when you discover what I’m doing. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but that smile.

 

But looking at it hurts.

 

Do you have any idea how you look when you are happy? It’s like looking at the sky opening up for a downpour of sweet, sweet rain after a drought.. it’s like seeing the stars when you look up at the night sky after a week of rain.. the way your face just lifts up, the way your eyes crinkle and twinkle, the way those lips turn up for that smile..

 

Looking at your smile hurts, because I know I’m not the reason behind it.

 

I want a glimpse of the smile she gives you because I know that’s something I couldn’t give. I cant make you look at me the way you look at her. I cant make you hold my hand as tightly as you hold her’s. I cant make you wrap your arms around me to make me feel safe like you do for her. I can’t make you wipe my tears away and promise me that everything will be okay. I cant make you say my name in the sweetest way.I can’t make you love me… Because I’m not her. I’ll never be her.

 

It hurts so much because I’m not her.

 

I’ll never be as graceful as she can be. I’ll never have her pretty face. I’ll never be as desirable as her. I’ll never have that carefree, fun attitude you’ve always wanted. I’ll never be as brave as her. I’ll never have you loving every little thing about me, the way you do for her.

 

And it’s killing me. It’s killing me that I cant ever make you happy the way she does. I just want to see that smile playing on your lips. But I cant. Only one person can bring that out. And I’m not her..