the time is near...

How do you prepare yourself to leave the past behind? Nay, not just the past, but your entire life. Can a person really start life anew, with a clean slate, free from the past? Maybe...

In a few more months I will be starting a new life. Hoping that there will be no need to look back, nor a need to go back. For now I try to live the present hoping that today too will be left behind for good...

Things...

There are times when I question certain things that happened in my life. Is it my fault? Did I cause something to happen? Did it happen because of who I am, of what I am? But then I would also ask myself, what did happen that's beyond your control to make you into what you are?

As I go through life, I've learned that things happen. Whether you want it to or not, whether you caused it or not, things just happen. It's a combination of everyone willing whatever they want to happen. It appears random, but then again it's not.

Some study would say that we are what we are because of our genes, some would argue that we are shaped by our environment. I'd like to think that it's a combination of both. I know part of me I got from my Dad and still part came from my Mom and from my own experiences growing up.

Growing up. Have I done that? I know I grew old but I'm not sure if I've actually grown up. I'm not even sure I know what that meant.

freedom and consciousness

1. Freedom is a state of mind.
2. It lies beyond the field of consciousness.

I read this somewhere, and it has gotten me quite confused. If freedom is a state of mind, then how can it lie beyond the field of consciousness? Is it the kind of freedom the resides in our subconcious? Does this mean freedom can only occur when we are not concious of it? That the moment we become conscious is the moment we lose our freedom? How do we know we are free if we are not aware of it. Is it a sense of freedom?

I guess in part this is true for how can we be free in our consciousness when this comes with preconcieved notions of what is and what isn't. Our consciousness is riddled with experiences, of conclusions, knowledge and memories. Does it mean we have to shed everything to be free? Without our consciousness, what are we left with? Will we still exist? If we are not concious of our own existence, will freedom matter?

the only thing constant...

It has been said that the only thing constant is change. Everything changes over time. I guess to a point I can believe that this is so, but then again, sometimes, I get reminded that some things never really change. Sure we get old, our fiery self might somewhat be tamed over time, even our beliefs shift to make living comfortable as we journey down the road. The season changes to mark the passage of time. And even though we might go through the same seasons every year, things will be different.

I ask myself, have I changed? To a point, maybe... but not entirely. There is one more thing that is constant... it has remained the same throughout the years. I feel it will remain the same for years to come.

The only thing constant is change... do I dare wish for a change?

run...catch up...face it!

My friend said, no matter how fast or how far you run, everything will catch up to you eventually. To which I replied, I think I have stopped running by now. I think I'm in that "waiting for things to catch up" stage. As to whether I'm prepared when things finally catches up with me... well, that's another matter.

I have found out that no matter how much you try and prepare yourself, things never work out the way you think they will. It doesn't matter how many scenarios you've tried to play in your mind, no matter how many outcomes you can come up with, in the end, things will run the way it is, but never how you think they will. So why waste time preparing?

Like I've said, I'm tired... as a result, I've slowed down a lot. Whatever's trying to catch up will soon be here facing me. It's bound to happen sometime. Maybe sooner, maybe later, but it will come. Maybe it won't be as bad as the first time...

two weeks after...

Hey! It's two weeks after D-Day. I'm alive! Am I okay? I think so... or should I say I hope so? Ah, whatever, all will be better after. It's always been that way... till next year. Or who knows maybe next year it won't be as bad.

Through all the years
I've shed these tears
Hoping for release
From love's first kiss...

Maybe next year...

the day after...

I woke up late, very late. It's a good thing work doesn't start till later in the day or else I'd have been in trouble. No hangover (but of course, I did not drink!), no bloated feeling after the enormous amount of food I consumed the night before. Nothing to indicate that I have yet again marked another year to my never ending journey.

In fact, I feel almost normal. Almost.

the day before...

9:29 pm, October 13, 2005. Up to now I have tried to keep my mind blank. I tried to amuse myself with everything I can think of. I went shopping, I surfed the Internet, I read books, I tried to do some mini-research, watched TV, played violin, made life hell for some drivers who shouldn't be driving, ate more food to last me a lifetime. After all the activities, I stopped for a second to stare at the computer screen. That's when I admitted to myself that my diversions didn't work. Did I expect it to? Honestly, not really, but I hoped. I hoped that maybe this year things will be different. A tiny bit maybe, but not much. So here I am a few hours away from that fatal moment. Putting up a brave face, showing the world everythings good, silently crying inside, grieving... trying to recover, but never quite managing such.

How much longer? Too long by now, but still counting... maybe next year...

A moment like this....

A Moment like this.
Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this.
Some people search forever for that one special kiss.
I cant believe its happening to me.
Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this.
-Kelly Clarkson

Simple lines from a song, but powerful enough to bring me to tears. This song has been around for some time, but for some reason when I was listening to it yesterday as I was driving, it brought me on the verge of a breakdown. I had to park on the side of the road because I just could not keep driving(thank goodness I was off the freeway by that time).

What made me cry? I don't know exactly. Maybe it's the realization that I have found that moment in time and have lost it. That it will never come again even if I wait another lifetime. One special moment, one special kiss, a smile then it was gone. Years have passed, I know I have moved on, somewhat. But once in a while the memory can still overwhelm me, and when it does the all the years of moving on seem to vanish into thin air and I'm back again to where I've started.

Sometimes it makes me wonder what the point of moving on is all about. I don't think one can really recover from losing the one that you love. Sure, I can always say it's all in the past, I have a new life now, but honestly, do you ever really move on and leave the past behind? Or is it forever going to be like this? At the most unfortunate moment, something will trigger that memory and you'll remember that no matter what you do and no matter where life takes you, you'll never be complete because of that moment you've lost forever.

This I think is what tires me more than anything. Everything is going right then something triggers the memory and I'm thrown back in time. Oh, I recover fast now, not like before, but I think it's taking its toll on me. I just hope I can keep this up till everythings as it should be.

there goes the faith...

It's been a while. I try not to think too much for fear that I would lose whatever peace I've come to have. Most of the time I read, nothing serious to prompt me to think too deeply though. Lately I've read a trilogy about a Christ clone, which in the end turned out to be the anti-Christ prophesized in the Bible. The book started out really well, introducing concepts and ideas about Christ and religion in a different light. Though at times it tends to preach, it established a good framework for the story. I could have said that in all the books were good but in the end, all it ended up with are old teachings and old beliefs that people like to cling on to. It gives them hope to do this I guess. I just wonder when someone can actually write something about Christ and all he stands for without reverting to ingrained religious beliefs. But I guess this would be somewhat impossible. For how can one write about Christ without the beliefs ingrained by the Church, when he is the symbol of that very belief?

dreams

Dreams. Of late I have been reading books on the topic. I'm curious to find out what experts have to say about it. I'm actually impressed by the amount of information that one can find both online and in print.

Why the curiosity? Simple, I've been having quite a lot lately and I wanted to find out what they mean other than my normal instincts that it's an event that is bound to happen.

Dreams, experts say are products of our subconscious trying to come out in the open(of course I've badly paraphrased their description, but it'll do). Sometimes it's a manifestation of some deep anxiety that we feel and cannot face while in conscious state. Or a longing for something or someone. Or it can also be a significant representation of phases in our life. They've even provided some meaning to symbols in our dreams. They did say that rarely are dreams a form of prophecy, giving an example of someone dying in their dreams as a sign that they'll never wake up obviously saying that how can you recount the dream if you've already died. Of course I'm not claiming ot be an expert on dreams, I just wanted to see if there are any other explanations as to their nature. Prophesy or an outlet? who knows.

As they said, all people dream and almost every night (except for drug induced sleep), but not all remember that they actually had a dream when they wake up. Now, that part might be true... for I am guilty of not having dreams at all at least for a long time before now. It might be that my brain simply refused to let me remember that I indeed dreamed of something or someone. Self preservation? Not of consequence? Whatever the reason, it is rare that I dream and remember it when I wake up. There is a twist though. When I do remember a dream, most of the time, or should I say all the time, the dream does come true. Not all of them immediately, and sometimes it doesn't even happen till years afterwards, but it does happen. I have never dreamed of things(at least not that I remember), I always dream of people and events or circumstances happening to certain people. Sometimes, I don't know that person yet, but when I do wake up and remember a face, then I'd know that I'll meet that person somehow, somewhere. Sometimes, I'm in a middle of a conversation and I'd suddenly have this feeling of deja vu and I'd carry the conversation for both of us saying what the other person is saying at the same time they're saying it. Feels weird, definitely. Most of my dreams are limited though to immediate family, friends and acquaintances, and at times future acquaintances. I do not have visions of what the world will end up in or who's going to get assassinated or if we'll have a plague as a result of terrorism. But even then, I get scared of what I'll remember when I wake up that I must have forced myself to forget as soon as I open my eyes.

It worked for a while, but of late I've been dreaming, nothing really bad, but disturbing at least for me. Some of the dreams have implications that I have yet to analyze and prepare myself for in the event that it should happen... Sometimes I also think that some of my dreams seep into my consciousness to warn me to brace myself. I've still yet to find a really good source of information that will answer my questions as to the real nature of dreams. I'm aware that most of them are theories as there really is no way to know exactly what and where dreams come from... at best they look like spikes in a chart of brain activity. Of course, experts would argue that it's more than that, but unless one actually was able to get inside a dream, I'd be hard to convince.

As for now, I dream... and remember... and wonder...

of being alone...

I've always been pretty open with the thought of death, well, at least my own. I used to be afraid at the thought of dying, but somewhere along the way, I have accepted and with acceptance came understanding, and as I understand better, a path has been cleared and now I don't fear death. I fear more what it will do to the people I will leave behind.

And what brought on this morbid thought of dying? My uncle lies in a coma and might not recover. And though we are not that close, at the back of my mind I know that he'd always be there in the background. And now the thought that he won't is causing me to face my real fear, of being the one left behind when everyone else has passed on. I don't know if it's coincidence, but my Dad's older sister died first of cancer, my uncle is the second of the lot, and he lies in a hospital with little chance of recovering. Another sister is in line before my Dad gets into the picture and then there's the youngest sister. Normally I don't believe in superstition or anything that borders on supernatural, but this one makes me uneasy. Not only because it involves death, but that it seems to be following some order.

I might have accepted the fact of my own death, but of people I love... I have a very long way to go. I don't know if there really is heaven or hell, or if there is a soul, or if a persons essence just floats away after one dies. Of those things I really don't think about. Whatever it is, will be. I do not strive hard to be religious to ensure my soul's acceptance into heaven. I just try to do what's right at least as I see it. I try not to hurt other people as I don't want them to hurt me. A little limited one might say, but I'm only human and as such, hampered by human behaviors and thinkings. That is all I try to do, be human, not even an enlightened human... just simply human.

I've already lost someone I love, thought not in death, the feeling of loss is still traumatic. A long time have passed but I'm still recovering. I cannot even begin to imagine what it'll be like to have someone really close to me die. Oh, there have been other relatives who passed away, but that was when I was too young to understand, or too much in between to care. But with age comes wisdom as an old saying goes... and sometimes that wisdom is not a welcome one. And now what I fear most was being left alone by myself to carry on when everybody else is gone.

I am here because of my family and my friends. Without them I would be lost. I don't deny that there might be some purpose for me other than being a part of a family or being a friend but I have no illusions as to how far I can go without their support. Sometimes it's hard when one is too honest with one's self.

friendly conversation

I saw a friend last week. We didn't have very long but I guess when it's between friends, a lot can be said and understood in a very short time.

She seemed okay, at least you get a feeling she's okay when you look at her, but not if you look long enough. She's getting restless(again), though where this restlessnes will take her I can only guess. She still has that haunted look in her eyes, one that she tried hard not to let me see. But when you've been down that road before you'll know. Of course I did not really press her on this, I think she has it in her mind to find out how I really am, so I played along. I almost forgot that sometimes she asks hard questions and the only way out was to answer them honestly.

First thing she asked me, "Do you still think of him?"

I said yes I do, on some days a lot but then again if I'm lucky I can go days/weeks without thinking of him. It's a "time" thing. Time does wonders to ones memories.

Does it still hurt? she asks.

Not as much as before, might be I'm healing, might be I'm numbed of it could be I don't care anymore. But once in a while it still gives a certain twist in the heart, a discomfort that I usually take care of with a long and fast drive in my car.

She said maybe it would help if I actually see him in person, you know like a getting over him thing.

I said maybe, but then again, maybe not. At this point I'm not willing to let go of my fragile calm. It already took me too long to get to this point and there's no point in risking anything just to satisfy a curiosity. I told her in time I will see him and know that it's okay, but not yet.

That's when she told me she saw an old flame of hers and said that it's fine with her. She's okay. That she saw some form of regret in his eyes.

I thought to myself, she's trying to make it okay. But as for me, I have to illusions as to what my state of mind is so I kept quiet. I think she wanted to show me she's gotten strong since the last time. I've no doubt about that, she has gotten strong, but not enough to look away at what she thought she saw in his eyes. I wanted to make sure that I'll have none to show by the time I see him again, regrets or no regrets. There can never be anything in between.

The she asked the most difficult question of all, and it doesn't have anything to do with whomever we were talking about. She wanted to know about a friend who is not so much of a friend now, my fault.

"Do you regret letting him go?" she wanted to know.

The biggest regret I have is losing a very dear friend. Someone who was there to lift me up no matter how low I've sunk. Someone who gave his life to me so I can have mine back. Someone who sacrificed himself so he can give me a good push to help me move on. Someone who loved me even if I cannot give him the love he deserved. Yes, there are some regrets, but I keep them to myself. He deserves to be happy or at least find someone who can give him the love I denied him.

On the way home I ended up thinking how ironic it was that the question the disturbed me most was the one of letting my friend go, of giving him up. I guess for this too I'd need a lot of time before I can think about it without doubting the decisions I've made.

Loneliness is a tough companion. It offers no relief, only sadness.

on forgiveness...

Sometimes it takes a great deal of suffering to find out who your real friends are. There were moments in the past where I have neglected these true friends in favor of those "friends" I thought were real at that time. I have found this out the hard way and have also suffered because of it. Thankfully, my true friends are still around to help me pick up the pieces of my once tattered life.

But what have I done to deserve this abandonment, the indifference? I guess it was partly my fault. I have hurt someone so bad and they gave their loyalty to him. It is not that I condemn their actions, but rather, I question it. For what do they know of the real circumstances surrounding this betrayal? They have not been part of my struggle to reclaim my life from the pits where it was thrown like some neglected and unimportant piece of trash.

It's been a long struggle and I'm afraid there's still more hardships to come. I am tiring but I know I will survive, just as I have survived losing my only reason for living. I know I have hurt someone so deeply, but not as deeply as I've hurt myself when I left him and let him go. He was the one who willed me to survive when I have given up. He will never know how much he has come to mean to me. And for all this I suffer, but always in silence. He gave me my life back, but I know I took his away when I left. But then, there are things that cannot be helped. One must do what one must do.

Now I live this life, the one he gave back to me, but I live it in emptiness. Empty because I have not forgiven myself. For my weakness, nor for my strength for they were the cause of all the pain. As I move towards the unknown, I hope for peace to finally find me. That in time I will learn forgiveness for myself. To view my mistakes as part of my imperfect life and somehow in doing so become whole again.

too much honesty

I think I've heard somewhere that sometimes too much honesty is the fall of man. Now don't ask me who said that because I don't remember. Well, whatever or whoever it is, I think it's true. Next time, I'd rather be vague and let others interpret what I've said than tell them outright what is and what is not. Please give me more patience to get some things over with. I fear the consequences if I fail to exercise this virtue to its full extent.

moving on

One of my friends told me she stopped reading my blog for now. Some of the writings here gets her in a depressed state. When asked why, she said, I write of sad things, of lost love. Before, she only accepts what I'm going through without question because she's my friend, but now I guess she understands how it feels. I know she loved and lost. Don't worry my friend, time is a good ally. I will not lie to you that it will take a long time to get over it, or maybe you will never get over it, just learn to live with the fact that the memories will be your company as you grow old. But time has a way of making us accept and be at peace with ourselves. There will be times when you will cry while watching a love story, or feel envious when you see couples holding hands, but as time passes by it will not be as bad.

these days...

In a few more days, it'll be my fourth year here in this new life of mine. The years have actually gone by fast, though on some days I felt that everything dragged. I can still remember the flurry of activities, all the paperwork, with no real thought that I will be leaving my life, the only life I've known, behind for good. I had honestly thought that I'd be gone for a couple of months tops.

As life and fate would have it, they played their little trick and I'm still here, awaiting for the final pieces of the puzzle to fall into place. I really shouldn't complain, everything has been good. I've been slowly but steadily building a good life, getting everything set for my children. In a couple of more months I would have achieved what a lot of people can only dream of. Patience and hard work has its rewards.

And as I labored this last month to survive, as I always do every year at this time, my friend asked me to read a couple of books. The books were great, of that I am sure. Its about a love so strong that it stood the test of time. Greater still because it was able to overcome sickness and death. But in all its greatness, where exactly does it leave me? Me and all others who have suffered a lost love. Most will cry, some will be renewed with hope, still some will remain the same... lost.

I have always wondered how one goes on with life when one has already died inside. It's been almost nine years, but I'm still here, alive. Am not so sure if I'm actually living, but I'm definitely alive. I've chosen this path because I have my children to think of. And to think, I've almost given them up when I thought, no, when I knew with my entire being, that I have found the one person that I know I will love forever. Yes, I too was weak, long ago. Now, I'm glad that I have my children, they've kept me strong all these years.

Of lost love? It will remain lost. I will journey far and wide to find myself in this lifetime, to find some peace as I grow old. But that lost love will remain forever lost even if it finds it way back to me.

two novels...

I have just read two novels by Nicholas Sparks. They were recommended to me by my best friend. In all reality, I don't know why people tend to do this to themselves. Read about a great love story and cry simply because that is all we can do, read about them. I have no doubt that some people have actually been blessed to have the kind of love we often read in novels, but there are equally the same number of couples left with their hearts broken. Still we read about them or watch them in the movies, and cry, and hope, we always hope that in the end, we'd be able to say we experienced that kind of love too.

Star Wars Episode III

Was finally able to watch Star Wars Episode III. It's really good, but then I'm a fan so I'm biased. Only thing is, this movie should be watched with people who's got the same interest as you. That way, after the movie, you get to enjoy it more by discussing every bit and angle of it.

Missed watching this with you, Friend.

for you, sweetheart...

Happy birthday, sweetheart. I'm afraid this is as far as I can go. Even after almost nine years, I still call him sweetheart. Not that I'm still hoping we'd get back together again someday. No, I think I'm past hoping. I call him sweetheart because that's what he was and still is to me. Am I holding a torch for him, no more, the flames have gone out long ago with any hopes I might have. But it will be his birthday and I kind of gotten used to greeting him in my own way. Just to wish him well and to thank him for giving me the chance to be part of his life for a short time. To thanks him for showing me what love is, for making me feel loved, for helping me to be strong as I continue to live without him.

There were times, more than I care to count, that I would have gladly given in to despair, I welcomed death but even that was not given to me as an escape. So I moved on, and moved far away to try and find myself, give myself a chance to live again. So here I am, thousands of miles away, looking back, remembering and wishing my sweetheart happy birthday.

more words found...

SCENE III

And so it went, my ex-husband almost always around when you least expect him to be. The children are in seventh heaven as I see myself being burned in eternal hell.

One time he picked up the kids from school and presented himself at my office.

"What are you doing here?" (Man, I thought, this line is getting old). And if looks could kill he'd be dead and we won't be having this ridiculous conversation.

"I picked up the kids, we're hoping you'd join us for dinner." He said.

Of course, my place of work being small as it is, everyone was curious as to who this man is picking me up to take me to dinner and with my children too. Nothing left to do but introduce him.

"Guys, this is my ex-husband." And I looked around telling myself that next time I have a bombshell to drop I'd have a camera to capture their faces. "I'm leaving," I said as I gathered all my stuff giving them a look that we'll talk about this later. Judging from the look on their faces I doubt it if a miracle can save me from questions the next day.

On the way down I looked at him and said, "You are not going to do this to me again. You cannot come to my office to pick me up with some excuse that you wanted me to join you and the kids for dinner. In case you have forgotten, you ARE my EX-HUSBAND, not my boyfriend, not my friend, not anybody considered close enough to me to pick me up from work."

"I'm so sorry, he said. I just thought it'll be nice to have dinner with everyone present, you know, Mom, Dad, and kids."

"But that's just it! We are not a family. When did you start forgetting that simple fact that we ended that relationship years ago? You are the Dad, yes. I am the Mom, yes. And they are our children, yes. But we are not a family. Remember that next time you think of another stunt like this.

Children are always best in diffusing the most volatile situations. Dinner turned out okay with me keeping my temper in check.

He took us home and said goodnight to the kids. I told them to get ready for bed and I'll check up on them shortly. I hate to burst my children's bubbles but I have to tell the exactly what's going on. I am not happy with the situation I'm being forced into and its time they know exactly where I stand.

I called for them to join me. They sat on each side and snuggled close to me on the couch. It's always a nice feeling that they seem to know when I need to be hugged.

"This is not going to work, you know." I started saying.
"What's not going to work?" My son asked.
"This thing that your Dad is trying to do, it's not going to work." I answered.
"Why not?" Asked my daughter.
"Because I'm not going back to him. He may be your Dad and I might have lived with him for nearly seven years but I'm not making the same mistake again. And please don't forget the most important reason why it's not going to work. I don't trust him not to mention the fact that I don't love him anymore. I haven't for a long time and I know I never will. I have never lied to you about how I feel and I'm not going to start now. I know it's not what you wanted to hear, but it's just the way it is. I hope you understand. I'm sorry if you guys hoped it might turn out good. I told your Dad at the start that I don't want to give you guys false hopes. You know I'd do anything for the two of you, but this is one thing that I cannot, so I'm asking both of you to do this for me."

My children hugged me tighter and said, "We understand, Mama. Can he still keep coming here, though? Take us out, cook us food?" They asked hopefully.

"Yeah, sure." I said. "As long as both of you know how I feel and accept my stand on this matter." Giving in to my children's request even though I know it'll be hard on me to put up a good front all the time. No point of giving them more burden to bear. I'll keep this one to myself.

"Thank you, Mama." They both said and hugged me even tighter and kissed me on the cheek.

trying to find the words...

SCENE I

It was a non-working weekend for me which is rare in itself. I just got up and was starting to make my morning cup of coffee. The kids are up and demanding breakfast. It's a nice day out and I'm thinking we could go out and do something for the day... My thoughts were interrupted with somebody walking in that is definitely not part of my rare weekend off.

"What are you doing here?", I said while looking at my two kids.

"I'm in the neighborhood so I decided to drop by and see how you guys are doing.", he said. "Would you guys like to go out for the day, you know just driving around, have fun?", he asked the kids. The kids of course jumped up and down saying they'd love that, while asking me if they can go.

"Of course", I said. "Go get your stuff ready, but don't be too late", I added.

"I was hoping you'd be coming with us", he said quietly.

The kids became more excited, probably thinking that it's going to be a real family outing for all of us. I told the kids to go to their room and get ready. Once they're out of earshot I asked,

"Why do you have to invite me in front of the kids? You know as well as I do that they'd be too excited at the prospect of a family day that I won't have the guts to say no."

"I was hoping you'd see it that way too. That way, you'd have no choice but to come with us. I just wanted to have the time to talk to you and this seems like the best idea," he said.

I looked at him curiously as warning signals flashed in my head. There was something different about him, but do I want to know. Then I told myself, what the heck, might as well find out what he's up to. I went to my room to change.

In the car, the kids are all smiles asking where we're going. He told them, wherever they want which added to their excitement. We stopped by at McDonald's for breakfast while the two fight it out as to where to go. They finally decided to go to a theme park.

Once we got there, there was really nothing for us adults to do but to follow them around making sure they get on and off the rides safely. And so it went, the children walking up front and the adults walking behind.

After some time, I finally asked,
"So what was it that you wanted to talk about? You really didn't have to take us out to talk to me, you could have done that at home."

"I know", he said. "But I wanted to do this. I wanted to know what it feels like to have a whole family having a fun day out in the sun."

"Then you should have taken your wife instead of me. That should give you your family. I'm not part of it," I said.

"But she's not the mother of my kids, you are. So if I wanted to feel what it's like to have a whole family, it has to be you," he said.

Warning bells are going crazy in my head. I know I should just walk out and let him take the kids home. That would be the safe thing to do. But I'm never known to do what is safe, so I press on.

"Exactly where is this conversation going?" I asked even though I dread what the answer might be.

"We've separated. I'll be filing for annulment next week. Things haven't been good between the two of us mainly because we couldn't have kids of our own," he said.

"Should that really be a problem? You have kids and she's welcome to them. I don't have any complaints with how she's treating my children. Shouldn't that work good for both of you, not really being strapped with kids, since both of you work a lot," I said hoping this would solve their problem and I don't have to hear any more about it. Since he doesn't know that I know exactly why she can't have kids, this conversation is way too weird to me.

"The children are actually the main reason why we've lasted this long. If they weren't there I doubt it if we would have lasted. But the burden of taking care of someone else's kids has been getting to her especially when she couldn't have her own. She keeps hoping that one day she'd have her own to take care of but it hasn't come yet, now she doubts if it ever will. Now the reason that kept us together is also the reason that is driving us apart," he said sadly.

"Is having kids the only reason why you two got together in the first place? I naturally thought that love is somehow involve in this. So, if both of you love each other, then kids or no kids should not be a problem. There's always adoption if she really wants a kid for her own, though why she'd want to adopt with these two around her, I don't know," I tried flippantly.

Now, I'm really having a heavy feeling about this entire situation. Do I have to be the one to hear about their marital problems? Not only do I not trust him but I do happen to be his ex-wife. This situation is sounding weirder by the minute.


"I wish it were," he said. "Can I ask a favor from you?" he asked. "Can I see the kids more often? drop by more often just to be with them or take them out? I need something comforting nowadays and being with the kids is the best," he said.

Now I'm thinking I really want to run and hide. This cannot be good. Everything in me is saying there's more to this than meets the eye. Got to be very careful, something stinks with this whole scenario that I can't quite put my finger on.

What elese can I say but sure, no problem. He did not exactly say anything that I can object to. But there's a sinking feeling at the back of my head. An idea as to where exactly he wants this situation to lead to. But then, my mind is always ahead of everybody else's and right now I have no proof that this is going to unfold as I thought it would, so I kept quiet and raised my guard.

As expected, the kids had a great time. I probably would have had a great time too if it weren't for the fact that I have to watch my ex-husband carefully. He just seems too attentive to me for my own comfort. Not too overly attentive for me to comment on it, but just enough to get my antenna up. For his part, he did look like he had fun. A safe guess would be he's trying to get what he has to do out of his mind. On the other hand, he might actually be cooking up a different thing altogether, which I'm more inclined to believe than the first one.

And so the day ended and he took us home and he left.

SCENE II

I woke up with the smell of coffee. Disoriented, I sat up in bed trying to figure out if I'd actually woken up earlier, put the coffee machine on and fell back to sleep. Then the smell of breakfast hit me and I told myself - no you couldn't have done that too, now get up and find out what's going on. I can hear my kids whispering as they move about and thought to myself, hmmm, they're making breakfast? So I moved quietly towards the kitchen to see what they're up to only to stop on my tracks when I heard another voice, familiar, but it certainly doesn't belong in my kitchen, in the morning, before I even had my coffee. I gave up the quiet mode and just simply walked in, it is my kitchen after all.

Everybody stopped what they were doing when I walked in. The children looked guilty as hell standing there with plates on their hands. My ex-husband stood there with that stupid smile on his face that he has when he's caught red handed. The eggs almost burned had I not seen it on time to rescue it. I did not say anything. I don't trust myself to say anything good at this point. I'm waiting for someone to explain to me what is going on in my own house.

My ex-husband finally opened his mouth to say something, probably because he knows I won't be the one to break that uneasy silence.

"I woke up early, haven't been sleeping right the last couple of days so I went here thinking I should save you the trouble to having to do anything. I made breakfast, we were actually hoping you'd sleep through it till we're done so the kids can surprise you with breakfast in bed." I stayed quiet. "Then I'm thinking I can take the kids off your hand for the day so you can do whatever you like, go shopping, get your hair done or something..." his voice trails off as he tries to see if he can figure out what I'm about to do to him.

He handed me my coffee and I have half the mind to throw it at his face which I didn't. So I sat down and took a sip, looking at my children's worried faces. I gave them a look that said I'll deal with you two later.

"Might as well eat, breakfast is no good cold," I said. The children relaxed and started their chatter again.

I looked squarely at my ex-husband and said, "what exactly are you trying to do here?"

"Just wanted to give you a real day off," he said smiling innocently. "How's the coffee? he asked.

"Fine." I said.

So we ate breakfast together that morning, the first after I walked out on him.

After breakfast, they told me to go to the living room and relax while they clean up the dishes. So armed with another cup of coffee I sat down on the couch facing the garden deep in thought as to what is going on that I should know about. I know at the back of my mind where this is leading but somehow I refuse to believe that it is actually happening. Not to me.

The children went to their room to get ready. He came and sat down next to me.

"Want a fresh cup?" pointing to my cold coffee. Gave the cup to him thinking what the heck, you want to wait on me? go ahead. So he got up and got me some more coffee.

When he came back I told him "I know what you're trying to do here. I don't trust you. You can have all the time you want with the kids but don't include me in it. I'm not interested."

He sighed. "I know that. Just give me the chance to do what I never did for you before. That's all I ask. The children are really happy that we are doing things together."

"And I'm suppossed to be okay with that?" I asked. "I'm suppossed to let you put ideas into the children's head, give them hope that eventually everything will be as it was? I'm supposssed to let you let them think that we might actually be getting back together?! Are you out of your mind?! I don't believe we're even discussing this!"

"Like I said, I'm not asking for anything, just the chance to do things right. It doesn't have to be what you're thinking, just a chance, please," he said quietly.

Just then the kids came out all ready to go. They looked at us questioningly as if trying to see if we've been arguing and the trip has been cancelled.

I stood up, gave them both a kiss and told them to have a good time. I walked them to the door. He turned and said, "Thank you."

I closed the door, walked back to the couch, sat down and asked God what I did to deserve this.

words are not enough

Two weeks passed with me not writing anything down. Does that mean I ran out of things to say? On the contrary, I think it's because this time words are not enough. Words are not sufficient to effectively express how I feel. But I guess I should at least try. It's like putting a face to the enemy so to speak.

And what exactly am I talking about? A dream. Seemingly innocent, something that is so remote that I should not even be bothered to remember. But here I am, remembering, and fearing that it might happen. Fearing it so much that I asked my best friend to pray that it doesn't come to pass. Hoping that by our combined efforts, the karma that envelops them would be lifted.

empty day

Oh dear, I feel kind of empty today. For some reason, I'm sort of drained of any kind of emotion. I guess I'm in a suspended animation phase. A wait and see kind of game after having a conversation with my ex-husband. This conversation reinforces my lack of trust for a man who wanted revenge because I walked out on him years ago. He did not really say anything bad. In fact we were both very civil, even to the point of talking about old friends and acquaintances that we haven't seen. We even shared a couple of laughs about certain situations that we got ourselves into. But it's in these kinds of situations where my senses get heightened. I wished it were not so, but...

May

The month of May approaches. Towards the end of that month, it will be his birthday again. Normally, I'd always wonder what he would look like, but this year, I'm afraid to wonder. I have seen a recent photo of him somewhere and I kid you not, in the photo he looked like half the man he used to be. Granting he is much older now, but he did not grow old gracefully as I always thought he would. He looked like his years and it doesn't look like the years have been kind. I can always say that maybe I'm not as blinded as before when I see him now, but I'm never one to delude myself. He was not exactly the handsome type, but he does have some charm, and his smile always seem to light up the room. Or is it because I was in love? (is "was" the operative word, I wonder?) Maybe that's part of the reason why I don't want to wonder what he looks like anymore. Maybe I want to preserve the image that I have of him in my mind. Or is it that I'm starting not to care?

I will never be able to deny that I fell in love, that I suffered because of it, and that I've hurt other people because of what I felt. I know in my heart that I will never forget that face and that smile, and the memories. Some hurt run too deep for that, to deny it would leave me incomplete. Time heals all wounds they say (maybe), and all that is left are scars to remind us that once in the past we loved... and lost.

No, I don't need to see him to remind myself what used to be. I know. Just as I know years from now I will still remember it like yesterday, because it is part of what I have become.

realization

When I started this blog, I thought I can just pick up where I left off when it comes to my writing. I was wrong. More importantly, I failed to forsee that in starting this blog, I would have to go through memories, though not forgotten, were safely tucked away in my mind.

It took me a long time to get to where I am now. A long time and a lot of help from friends who won't let me be in a perpetual state of despair. And now that I have started again on life, something else is catching up on me. I have been so consumed with my pain, that I failed to acknowledge a gift being handed to me. Slowly, little by little, bits and pieces keep reminding me of what I gave up simply because I was too blind to see.

I lost the first time because I fought to keep it. Now I feel I've lost again because I failed to see what was in front of me.

missing a dear friend...

I went to the Festival of Books today at UCLA. I haven't gone in the last two years so I was quite excited about it. As I went around from booth to booth, I have this feeling that something isn't quite right. I actually finished my round in less than two hours, which is very unusual since I love browsing through books. I went back to the car to leave my purchases, thinking I should go around one more time in case I see something else I like. I had a quick lunch before I went back to browse some more. As I was walking around, I kept wondering what was bothering me and then it hit me. The very first booth I went to has a book by Neil Gaiman, it was the Sandman, signed. I wanted to buy it but didn't, not because of the price, but because I have no one to give it to. The first time I went to the Festival of Books, it took me a long time to go through all the booths because I was looking for books that I can send to a very dear friend of mine. This time I'm only doing it for myself. Then I felt it, a very deep loss that left me more confused than hurt. The pain came later and with it more confusion. Did I make the right decision of letting him go? Did I hurt him needlessly and only now realized that in doing so I have also hurt myself? I don't have an answer now as I never had any answers before. Maybe I am really just missing a very dear friend... I certainly do not want to go beyond that. I have lost my right a long time ago.

what matters most

It's not how long we held each other's hand
What matters is how well we loved each other
It's not how far we travelled on our way
Of what we found to say
It's not the spring you see, but all the shades of green

It's not how long I held you in my arms
What matters is how sweet the years together
It's not how many summertimes we had to give to fall
The early morning smiles we tearfully recall
What matters most is that we loved at all.

It's not how many summertimes we had to give to fall
The early morning smiles we tearfully recall
What matters most is that we loved at all.

What matters most is that we loved at all.

A song by Kenny Rankin, I found out that not too many people knew about this song. I would probably have forgotten about it too had it not been for the words that reminds me so painfully of someone. As some would undoubtedly say, it is better to have loved and lost, than never have loved at all. Maybe... but then again maybe not. We are only able to say this simply because we don't have a choice anymore. I have loved and lost, but is it better? No matter how far I've traveled, no matter how many springtimes gave way to fall, and no matter how much tears I've shed, I still haven't found the "better" part of it. The song is probably more accurate in saying that "what matters most is that we loved at all." It's not better but to be able to say that "I have loved" is an experience that not everyone can claim.

what started it all... again

As I have said I stopped writing anything for a long time. So what started me down that road again? It was a story about sunset written by a friend of a very dear friend. He, for some reason did not finish his story and wanted people who visits his blog to write an ending for him. After reading his story, I felt that I should at least try... so I wrote stories for my friend who's always been there helping me get through my life and my pain at the cost of his own.

I wished I could have helped him with his pain, but like I've said, wishing was never my forte.

moments of weakness

Eight years, six months and counting... Whose counting?

It's been so long, but it still seems like yesterday. I can see his face, his smile that I love so much in the privacy of my mind. I can hear his laughter in the silence of my solitude. Why do my memories of him remain vivid in my mind when all else that happened has faded into nothing?

I might have moved on, and moved so far away, but I can still feel the pain, perhaps it will never really go away. Life goes on and so must we, but what happens when a part of you remains? Forever reliving that moment when love touched the heart. How can one let go of a memory without losing oneself altogether? I have lost and I am lost with only my memories to keep me company.

I've grown older, body, heart and soul. And now I'm weary, but still I move on until the time comes when I could no longer do so. Maybe then my memories will bring me comfort instead of pain. Maybe then love will finally find me again.

new horizons

to distant shores away i go
to live my life forget my woes
to find the dream that i once lost
to find the love who'll make me whole...

This was something i wrote not so long ago. Had to think fast because I'm posting it on a poetry site. Few months later I received a notice that my untitled and unfinished work will somehow find its way in a coffee book. A few more weeks after that, I got another letter saying it won the Editor's Choice Award. Gee! maybe I really should take this seriously...

silent voices

"Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent."

- Ludwig Wittgenstein

Most of the time it happens, not because you lack of something to say, but because you lack the means to express yourself clearly. Most people will choose to remain silent than to be misunderstood, but then even silence is often misunderstood.

my wishes and dreams

Yesterday was incredibly windy. The wind was blowing so hard am having a really tough time trying to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground. Branches from the trees are falling like crazy, getting blown everywhere. I know I shouldn't have gone out of the building where I worked, but I desperately needed coffee and although we have some that you can brew, it was one of those days when I wanted the kind that you can buy. And so off I went on this ridiculous errand of mine, hugging my sweater thinking it might be warmer if I do this. Hah!

And then suddenly, I caught myself wishing... that the wind would really blow so hard that it will carry me away, far away... but of course, I stopped myself, wishing is definitely not my forte. And then out of the blue, I remembered a dream I once had. I think I must have smiled because all of a sudden all the people around are smiling at me. None of them knew though that it was a bittersweet smile. Brought about by a dream that I know in my heart will come. A dream that I fear so much that it makes me weak at the knees just to remember. How do I know with certainty that this dream will come true? I just do with a certainty that's frightening. Maybe that's why I started wishing for the wind to blow me away...

13 going on 30

Just saw this movie on cable today. Nothing grand, no fancy special effects, no elaborate twists and turns, just a straightforward fantasy story of a 13 year old kid wanting to grow up too fast only to find out that what she really wants most is already there beside her. Fast forward to end of story, she wished herself back to being 13 to correct the mistake she made and finally end up with the man she loves.

If only life were that simple. That a simple wish could actually make everything right. There was only one time in my life that I've actually wished for something, for myself. It didn't happen. After that I stopped wishing. I figured wishing is something you do when you know its not bound to be...that's why you wish for it. But this is me, I respect others if they indulge in this exercise. I guess one wish not granted was enough for me.

start of a voyage

Long ago, I decided to stop writing altogether. This was a very painful decision, but the most logical one at that time. It was a time of crisis, and as such, my writings reflected the tumult I felt within. To continue writing would have been too much, though some would say it could have been therapeutic to do so. I felt drained every time I wrote something, and felt even worse when I get to read the final product. I have missed it though, and now I am attempting to recapture that part of me I lost in the process of finding myself.