Summer

Sana summer na lang ulit.
Para kaklase ulit kita.
Para makita ulit kita araw-araw.

Iba naman na sitwasyon ko ngayon.
Di tulad dati, pwede na tayo siguro.

Nakakatuwa lang.
Kung kailan di na tayo naging magkaklase,
ngayon tayo nag usap.
E dati sa magkabilang dulo pa tayo nakaupo.

Tapos, nung enrollment, nagkita ulit tayo.
Baka dun ko naisip, sana, ikaw na lang yung katabi ko.

Tinanong mo ko kung kamusta na ko.
Sabi ko ok naman na ko.
Nalaman mo kung anong nangyari samin,
sabi mo bigla,
"Goodluck naman sa Valentine's day!"

Salamat sa goodluck.
Pero mas masaya sana kung goodluck sating dalawa di ba?
Haha! Nilalandi lang naman kita.
Pero malay mo, tayo pala talaga.

Sana summer na lang ulit.
Sabi natin noon, magkaklase tayo ulit kay Sir,
sa ibang subject naman.

Sana summer na lang ulit.
Ngayon, ikaw na kausap ko,
ikaw na katabi ko.
Para naman sumaya na summer ko,
pati na rin puso ko.
Corny much!

Sana ngayong summer, SANA.

An Open Letter to Her

It’s been weeks since I last talked to you. The last I remembered was a chat on Facebook I was supposed to ignore. Or is it weeks? Months, more so, I guess. It’s amazing to note that such span of time, when we can’t forge a day without talking to each other when we were so much together. But what the heck, everything’s done and so are we.

Well, for a guy who thinks he has something to say to everything, I was mute about our supposedly “break-up”. Yeah, I had talked to a bunch of people about my sentiments yet I haven’t issued any press release or official statement about all of the drama that is “us”. But don’t worry; I will not bother talking about details of our “break-up” here. I just want to reconnect with you through this.

In the 11th, I’ll turn 21, a year older, and/or wiser. Remember how excited we were to plan your 18th and my 21st birthday? I was ecstatic then since we get to spend our debut both in the same year. But things have changed and the course of our relationship turned into a dead end.

I am turning 21 and yet I am acting as if I am a brat- not talking to you, nor even looking at you. I am trying my hardest to ignore you and convince myself that you’re just an entity there of whom I should not be concerned. Sigh. I guess, we both knew how painful it is to do so.
Well, what the heck. I am lost for words right now. How will I say this? You hurt me. You hurt me so much that I am doing this to you. You hurt me so much that I acted bitter and resentful. I was so hurt that I had to reassess myself and see my worth as a man. You hurt me. But I may have hurt you too.

I decided to end our relationship then just because I thought I am fed up with you and your immaturity. I was immature, too, you see? I was more concerned of myself then that I never listened to your explanations. Had I been more open-minded, I could have forgiven you. But, shockingly, I must admit I never regret making that decision. All of the things I’ve seen and heard I decided that it was better to salvage the respect and friendship left between us.
I would like to be believe that what we had was love. But we can’t live on love alone. You know that well enough, too. But why am I even writing this letter?

I missed those texts and the concern and all. I am thankful for that. But I am not going to beg for those once more. It’s time you give that to him. I heard you’re doing fine with him, steady and ready. I am happy for you, seriously. Oita. Ala mu.