Posted in Poetry

Mga basang unan

Noong iwan mo ako ng walang pasabi, o pangako ng pagbabalik, umiyak ako buong gabi. 

Umiyak ako nang sobrang tindi; kinailangan kong ibilad sa araw ang unan ko kinabukasan. 

Ang sarap pala sa pakiramdam ng patulugin ka ng sarili mong pag-iyak. Naisip ko, hindi pinakuluang dahon ng bayabas, o alak, ang sagot sa ganitong klaseng sakit. 

Luha ang pinakamabisang pang-langgas sa sugat ng puso.

Kaya… inaraw-araw ko ito.

Sinisimulan at tinatapos ko ang mga araw na binabalikan ang mga sugat na iniwan mo. 

Iniisa-isa ko ang mga alaala’t hinahanap kung saan sila bumaon dito sa puso ko. Nakakatawa.  

Ang akala ko noon, kung dumating man ang araw na ‘to, puro mga alaala ng away at hindi natin pagkakasunduan ang iintindihin ko, kasi ‘yun, mahirap gamutin; na sila, kahit ilang balde na ng luha ang aking pigain mula sa mga mata ko, magdurugo pa rin.

Pero mas nagdurugo ako para sa mga tawa mo. Mas nagdurugo ako sa mga patawa mo. Mas nagdurugo ako sa mga yakap mo, sa kung paanong ang balat ko ay parang nalalapnos kapag dahan-dahan mo akong hinahaplos at ang hininga ko ay nahahapo at kinakapos kapag niyayapos kita.

Nagdurugo ako noong umalis ka, pero mas nagdurugo ako sa unang gabi na pinili mong manatili. Nagdurugo ako noong gabing sabihin mo na ayaw mo na, pero mas nagdurugo ako noong gabing tanungin mo ako kung pwede pa ba? Nagdurugo ako noong gabing tinalikuran mo ako, pero mas nagdurugo ako na noong pagtalikod ko, nandun ka pa.

At nagdurugo ako. At nagdurugo ako. At nadudurog at nadudurog at nagdurugo pa rin ako sa alaala na ikaw pa ang mas naunang nagsabi ng, “Mahal kita.”

Mahal kita. Kung titignan nang maigi ang mga salitang isinulat ng mga sugat na iniwan mo, ‘yang dalawang ‘yan ang mababasa ko: Mahal kita. At sa inaraw-araw ng pagbibilad kong gan’to, nagmamanhid na sila. Mahal kita. At sa dinami-rami ng luha na pinang-langgas ko rito, naglalamig na sila. Mahal kita. At sa hinaba-haba ng panahon na ginugol ko sa gamutan, nagmamanhid na sila. Mahal kita. At sa tinagal-tagal nitong kumikirot sa dibdib ko, medyo nakakasanay na. Mahal kita. At sa tinatagal-tagal ng panahon na ginugol ko sa gamutan, magsasara na sila. Magsasara, at magiging mga pilat na paulit-ulit kong mababasa at ang parati lang sasabihin ay mahal kita.

Mahal, kung magkita man tayong muli at tanungin mo kong muli kung pwede pa ba, ang hihilingin ko lang sa’yo ay mga bagong unan. Dahil ang lahat ng sa akin ay akala mo’y naulanan. Dahil lahat sila ay akin nang naiyakan at nag-iwan ng mga kwento natin. Ayaw ko nang matulog sa mga unang basa at malunod sa pagtulog sa alaala na mahal kita, mahal pala kita, na mahal pa rin pala kita. At sa wakas, hindi na kasing sakit ng dati.

Pero mahal, masakit pa.”

Juan Miguel Severo

Posted in Letters Unsent

Rubbed, raw, and reeling

This is probably the worst Day 1 of all Day 1s. 

It was surreal. I am still wishing (and desperately hoping) that someone would slap me in the face and wake me up from this deep sleep I am in. I don’t know, maybe to wake up in that corner of the room we used to share, just lying in the bed, and I will tell you casually, “I had a really bad dream” and begin narrating scene by scene, frame by frame. 

I know this isn’t a dream though. This my reality now. A reality that I have to face without you. A reality with just me and no one else. I still feel hurt. But deep inside my emotional and very broken state, I am happy that you finally got the space you begged me for. 

I felt like I cried all the tears that I could shed inside my system. I’ve been asking the same questions over and over in my head. I kept blaming myself for what happened. I am stranded at one place with no idea what to do next or where to go. 

I feel broken and shattered into tiny irreparable pieces. Reminds me of the time  when we’re pushing and pulling each other because we both know that we can’t be together. Factor that in then double the pain. That’s how broken I am right now. Of all the wounds I ever had, this will probably take the longest time to heal. Sadly, there were no scientific cure to at least numb myself from the excruciating pain. 

Today, I’ve put my stuff back inside the cabinet. They’re back to where they were originally placed before I started packing them to bring it over to your place. I can’t sleep because the moment I close my eyes, I see that vivid image of the place we shared. Every corner of the place we used to call “ours” is etched inside my memory. I open my eyes and find myself crying for the nth time. 

I am not okay. But I know I will be. Someday. 

Posted in Letters Unsent

To that girl who’s got no boundaries

You know who you are.

Before I start this probably bitchy post, I just want you to know that I am so tempted to write your name here. But I will not do that. I will choose to protect your privacy. Something that you didn’t do. I will not do that because I have boundaries. Something that you don’t have.

There was a reason why that email was only sent out to you seniors at work. I have no idea why you must be included in the email thread when clearly, you have no bearing on the work that I have to endorse. The only benefit you can have from knowing is so you can blab it out to everyone who knows me, which you did.

Who gave you the right to do such thing, by the way? Tell me, in what part of my resignation did it become your story to start telling people about it? Did I ask you to do so? Did I give you the consent? What the hell where you thinking?

This happened to your fellow senior at work, if you still remember. You should, since it only happened a month ago. She was told off by your boss for not knowing how to keep confidentiality. I remember the exact words were: “I sent that to you because you are LEADERS and part of being one is knowing how to keep confidentiality”. Do you realize now where you’re totally off the line? She’s got a point there, dude. At least, that incident was purely accidental. Was yours an accident, too?

I understand that it is in your nature to talk. But for once, can’t you just talk about your life and not someone else’s?

I hope that moving forward, you’ll learn how to practice confidentiality and professionalism. No, that’s my professional counter-ego talking. What I really want to say is, you should learn how to mind your own f***ing business.

Posted in Letters Unsent

Not a goodbye letter

Dear Juan de la Cruz,

By the time you read this, I would’ve probably vacated my seat, my things gone, my desk all clean and empty. You’ll probably wonder why I left or why I didn’t say goodbye. Here’s why:

I know this scenario all too well. I’ve been here before. As soon as I handed in that letter, I began telling people that I already did. It was the biggest mistake I’ve ever done. People began asking questions, even people I’m not really close to. They wondered where I’ll go to next, where I am headed, or whatever it is that I plan to do with my life. I answered each one of their questions. It was tiring having to repeat the same line over and over again and to different people every time. During my probably, seventh repetition of my life goals (or lack thereof), I realized that people didn’t really care what I plan to do with my life. They just wanted something to talk about. Some were just keeping tabs of who already left or at least planning to. I should’ve told only those people who really mattered to me — people that I’m sure I will be missed.

I am not saying that you don’t matter. You do. You really do. As cliche as it may sound but it’s not you, it’s just really me. I don’t want to go through the sad farewells again. Believe it or not, there were a lot of tears shed, a lot of I will miss yous uttered, and a lot of “Let’s keep in touch” promises were executed for each single soul I got to talk to that day. I never kept those promises. I never “kept in touch” with them. You see now, Juan de la Cruz, I no longer want to make promises I can’t keep. Nor do I want to create a memory of us bidding farewell in the hopes of seeing each other again in the unknowable future. No, that’s not what I want. I want us to be normal because we will see each other again. Let’s make time to see each other again. There’s no room for a goodbye because we can always meet up for a drink or two, or go out to a nice dinner to catch up. I hope you’ll like that idea, because I sure as hell would sign up if you’re game.

I’m sorry for not telling you that I am leaving. I didn’t tell anyone for the reasons stated above. Please don’t take it personally. I have nothing against you. In fact, if only I could take you with me, I would. That’s how much you mean to me.

My number hasn’t changed. You can still text me or call me whenever you have a new story to tell about that guy you’ve been eyeing on for months or whenever you wanted to rant about your boss who turned into a bitchy monster again. I promise, I will respond. And if I don’t, I probably just went to the bathroom or in a meeting or talking to a work mate. But don’t worry, once I see your name in my mobile screen, I will surely get back to you.

So give me a call sometime, invite me out to dinner, movies or wherever. I will too. Let’s catch up because I’d still like to hear your stories.

Let’s not bid farewell. No matter how beautiful they say farewells are sometimes. This letter isn’t a goodbye, Juan de la Cruz. I am writing to you to say until we meet each other again, live happily just like how I’ve always known you. Continue to inspire lives like how you inpired mine.

Cheers, amigo!


Posted in Nothingness


I never liked Valentine’s Day. It’s not because I’m bitter or single, I just don’t like the idea of being extra sweet to that special someone because well, you’re supposed to. 

Aren’t you guys supposed to be celebrating your love every day? Aren’t you guys supposed to make your partner extra special every day? Aren’t you guys supposed to make them feel that they are loved every day? 

Yes, flowers are cute and chocolates are sweet. But personally, I prefer those sweet little effort from someone to make me smile. I prefer those random cute handwritten notes (no matter how short). I prefer spontaneous movie dates, cooked breakfasts, brunch on weekends, dinners, and long bus rides. 

Kung bigas pa siguro yan, or libreng pagkain, or libreng pamasahe… yun. Ganyan na mga gusto ko. Yung siguradong makakatipid ako. 😀 

Happy Balemtayms, everyone! 🙂