The Space Between Us

There’s  a difference between loving from afar and loving too close.
They say proximity measures affection and relationships are defined by intimacy and commitment

When you are too near, you can hear the person’s breathing next to you.
Even the sounds that are not of interest, they catch your ears
like how someone snores and that repetitive surprise fart
that is intimacy. that is live performance

When you are miles apart, you define intimacy
by private messages and phone conversations
they are always private and people will always think you have a quiet time with your boo
but in your head, it has an overflowing passion, as perfect as a sonnet

Sometimes some things are beautiful from afar.
I can invent our life together in photoshop, in wonderland
I can’t see pimples nor trace the rough edges of your face.
They are replaced by a flat screen and a smooth surface.


But as I make a reality check, it is mundane, just like one of the stories

When I pat you on the back, I am patting a pillow or a pet
when my hand is reaching for your hand, it is reaching for a phone or a mouse
when I crack a joke, I can’t hear you laugh
the decibels of your laughter, and the stretch of your lips
are replaced by three letters, LOL
Going to a cinema meant going to a website
Your voice over the phone sounds like the best customer service
Your mass weight and body mass are shrunk into text, jpegs, and emoticons


You can spend hours staring at the camera, but there is nothing more awkward than staring at someone face to face
I miss the awkwardness
which leads to losing a taxi ride, forgetting our itinerary, losing our cash.
Sometimes I feel like gadgets are living things too, I cuddle them to sleep.

Face to face, silence is a beautiful and meaningful pause.
It is an opportunity to take a deep breath for the arms to extend or the fingers to lock
and for my eyes to find your eyes
There’s a space between us
and between us is a black hole where all the warm hugs, teardrops, and long gazes, are trapped
And the airwaves can only send   “hahaha” and “hehehe”


Happy Hearts Day to all girlfriends and boyfriends in long distance  relationships! 😀

Photos taken in Sky Ranch, Tagaytay

Worth Forgiving

moving forward
moving forward

There were nights that I could not sleep just because I could not forgive. Whether it was a mirror or a name, it reminded me of how unfair life was. I wanted to curse and use all the swear words that never came out of my mouth.

When I remember those nights, I feel nothing anymore. Looking back, the reasons were frivolous to extinguish anger and grudge. It is just a story, like everybody’s story of moving on and forgiving. When every detail of the story turns vague and blurry, this is how I know I have forgiven.

I am very much aware that people experience much worse in life. To say, “forgive”, is over simplified for someone who is going through a complicated life. When I think of how grave other people’s offenses are, is it possible to just forgive? Are they worthy of forgiveness?

It is easy to forgive when the offender realizes his mistake or when we see the offender punished.

When I think of what Jesus did in the cross,  it reaffirms the famous quote: “To err is human. To forgive is divine.”

This  passage is one of the many teachings of forgiveness in the Bible.

“When they came to the place called The Skull, there they crucified Him and the criminals, one on the right and the other on the left. But Jesus was saying, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.”

Luke 23:33-34

Worth Begging

TN14When I was in grade school, I wanted to join our speech choir. More than half of the class were part of the speech choir. I would watch my classmates rehearsed every school day. I did not understand why I wanted it so bad. All I could remember everyday I would ask my teacher if I could join. I was very persistent like a die-hard suitor who would never let go until there was a finality of no. My teacher would reply, “We’ll see.” And my hope grew big that eventually  I would be part of the speech choir. I had no memories of being disheartened or discouraged.

I was just a kid.  I was too young to have puberty issues  on body image, allowance, crushes, honors. I  had no idea what self-esteem meant. I just wanted to be part of  the speech choir. I did not try to look for reasons  my teacher did not handpick me to be part of the speech choir. Maybe she thought I could not afford to buy the costume or she just did not like me. The reasons were not clear but I did not bother to know why. The only thing,  that was very clear to me, was that I wanted to be part of the speech choir. I kept asking my teacher until it became part of my school routine.

One day, my teacher got so annoyed. She did not give me the usual friendly reply “We’ll see.” My presence  felt like a  head louse thriving on her head.  It was as if she wanted to scratch her head and just get rid of me.  She told me she would let me join if they would be needing more people.

I waited.

And waited.

I forget how it happened. I just remember I was with my classmates performing the Frog Singing School. Our group won the interschool competition. I would not have celebrated the victory of my classmates if it were not for my eagerness to join the team.

Looking back, I can’t believe I have that kind of guts to ask my teacher everyday if I can make it. I find it embarrassing. I had no inhibitions and fear on asking my teacher. I did not even question if I really deserve to be part of the speech choir. I did not question the criteria of my teacher or did I have what was required. I just wanted it hard enough, the way a five-year old boy throwing tantrums,  forcing her mother to buy  a candy.

I wish I still have that kind of courage and determination that never doubts, never fears. It was not even a big dream or life-changing event to aspire for. I could have just let it go, the way we let balloons and kites leave us, the way we let our coins fall on a wishing well. But  I was just “makulit” and simply interested.

This reminds me of a blog I read days ago. In the blog of Mark Manson, he shared that instead of asking “What do we want in life?”  We should ask, ”
“What do want to suffer for?”

He wrote:

“A more interesting question, a question that perhaps you’ve never considered before, is what pain do you want in your life? What are you willing to struggle for? Because that seems to be a greater determinant of how our lives turn out.”

He continued:

“What determines your success isn’t “What do you want to enjoy?” The question is, “What pain do you want to sustain?” The quality of your life is not determined by the quality of your positive experiences but the quality of your negative experiences. And to get good at dealing with negative experiences is to get good at dealing with life.

There are some things we really like to have. It is not a question on how much we want something but it is how much are we willing to give up or to suffer. Sometimes, the question should be like, “What are things worth begging ?” What are the things you are willing to lose your pride just to get it?  When rejection knocks at your door, it steals your pride and sometimes gives you a token of humiliation.

Sometimes you just have to wear thick face to get it.