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Finding phrases for feelings that began more than a year ago

You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won't tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you've done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you're tired. You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and you're trying not to tell him that you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling, and you're trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you've discovered something you don't even have a name for.

— from "You Are Jeff" by Richard Siken

when I am in your presence I feel life is strong
and will defeat all its enemies and all of mine
and all of yours and yours in you and mine in me
sick logic and feeble reasoning are cured
by the perfect symmetry of your arms and legs
spread out making an eternal circle together
creating a golden pillar beside the Atlantic
the faint line of hair dividing your torso
gives my mind rest and emotions their release
into the infinite air where since once we are
together we always will be in this life come what may

— from "When I am feeling depressed and sullen" by Frank O'Hara

Do you think of me
as often
as I think
of you?

"Please" by Richard Brautigan


They say
milestones are
just numbers, and
for once I actually believe it.
Definite dates no longer matter as much as
moments that evidenced feelings -- feelings of certainty defeating feelings of apprehension.
When did it actually begin? is no longer a question that needs to be asked, just as Does it 
matter, as long as it will never end? is an answer that needs no further emphasis. I think
the idea of being ready again revealed itself more than a year ago, that night you sliced
my steak and I let chemistry point its knives at my heart again. Maybe even before;
maybe it was that day you handed me the jar of deep purple, or that day I first
rode your car and it was raining. But in the calendar inside my chest, it does
not matter what day it was. What rings truer is that it's become clear how
much it just made sense then, how it still makes sense, and how sure I
am that it will continue to do so, for far, far longer than that graffiti
of drumsticks and smoke stamped across your heart ever will.

 Ship, me


Lolo's girl

One of my fondest memories as a kid was reading the newspaper every night with my Dodo. I remember snuggling between him and my grandma while he reads the dailies before going to bed. He would point to a letter on the day's headlines, and I'd shout what it was. This was before I went to proper school: I was three years old, and not enrolled in nursery yet. But because my aunt was a teacher, and our fridge was filled with alphabet magnets, I knew my ABC's. It was our nightly ritual - him going over the headlines, me going over its letters. Over time, I would graduate to simple words like "oil" or "up" - words that didn't mean that much to me yet, but were almost always present in the front page.

We didn't stop there. When we would go out on weekends, he'd point to signs and words we'd see on the road when he's on the wheel. When we were stuck in traffic, he let me indulge in reading out sari-sari store names and bank branches. Roadtrips were never boring and heavy traffic never felt that long - for me, at least.

A lot of things have changed since - my lolo now reads his newspapers in the morning (because he's long been retired) and I've since graduated to reading novels and law books.

But I'm glad for the many things that still remained the way they were - how we'd both spend hours on the couch or on the bed, just reading until our eyes give up. I grew accustomed to the habit of keeping the bedside night lamp turned on, and falling asleep with the magazine or newspaper or book on my chest. Reading before bed became a habit; so did reading until dozing off.

Some people say it's bad for the eyes. But it's always been good for the mind - and the soul.

Thank you, Dodo, for teaching me how to read, and for teaching me to love it. It certainly changed my life in unfathomable ways - I'm glad it was you I first shared it with.

I don't think I've ever written about my lolo yet - so here goes. Happy Father's Day, Dodo! ♥ I love you!


And of course, happy father's day, Papa! :* Thank you for the great weekend - and all the other weekdays and weekends :)


In re: Malcolm Hall feelings (aka My new law school anthem)

- Rather Be by Clean Bandit feat. Jesse Glynne

This shall be our new jam, Malcolm. You've given me so much heartache, but you've also brought me so much love. You've taken away a huge part of my self-esteem, sure  but you've also shown me what it truly means to be resilient and to be brave.

For the most part, my time with you has been difficult. But who am I to complain? I've never felt more vulnerable; but I've also never felt more loved. It was only until you came along that I realized how much I am appreciated by the people who matter: my friends, my sisses, and my family. (Hello, parents, I love you.) It's within your hallowed walls that I discovered what faith - and fate - actually meant. And it was a year into my stay when you brought me to the greatest love of my life. (Hi, L.)

You've been tough, but I'm tougher. At the end of the day, I can't imagine myself being anywhere else. So I guess it's still going to be you and me, buddy.

I'm ready for you. Again, and always.


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id est

they say you can love someone to the point of ruin;
i say i love you enough to make shadows believe they deserve to get lost in our light