Nuwebe

Ever had that affection that despite all the relationships that may pass, it becomes a home where life will always lead you too? I have mine and it has been 9 Christmas since I have prayed to God that he grant me just a smile from him and it will be enough or make me forget him so it will pass. I thought with the passing of years it has passed but the intensity of how I feel now just proves that it has only concealed its self and waited for the right time to strike. That old affection hit me big time.

I have labelled him my eternal crush. For who would not fall for such guy? Smart, very pious, very smart, free of vices and relatively good looking. Name it and he is a complete package adding that he plays basketball awesomely and plays the leader role quite well. Now who would not confess to such guy? I actually mustered the courage and did about 9 years ago. It was the sweetest rejection I ever had and I still vividly remember it. Upon intimating my deepest affection of him, he told me of how God planned great things for us and that we are destined to be great men. 

I was not in the least hurt, I was actually more grateful that for a person as devoted to religion as he is, he managed to understand me or so I believe. A lot of those who know this find it amusing that after all these years and relationships, I still have not gotten over him. Why move on if it is worth waiting? Why wait if there is nothing to wait for? The mind knows that waiting is a foolish thing to do but the heart will always stick to the illusion of "maybes". 

Leaving Behind an Outcast

Am I that selfish that when you asked me to let you go and I was so afraid to do so? Can you blame me for that is just asking too much from me. I am afraid of being left with no one to care for me. I was conditioned to the belief that there never will be, but what human will ever be immune to that longing of having someone care? You came and I finally felt how it is to be cared- how it is to be truly cared. The past four years with you has been the best thing in my life so far.

Call us unconventional but it is truly how we were. What romantic relationship can thrive without sex- just pure respect and the idea of companionship? I thank you for you have taken the risk of having me. That in your line of job, you still have not been ashamed that I was the special one in your life. That even if you have a kid, you were never ashamed of telling him and your family who I really was in your life. So can you blame me if I have developed this emotional dependency and I refuse to let that go?

Between the two of us I have to confess I have been the one who lacked the courage. I have not had that boldness to introduce you to my family or to my friends for fear of judgement. Forgive me for giving in to my insecurities- that until now I cannot muster the courage to say what we had despite all your reassurances. I do no know what I feared; the fact that other people might judge you or the fact that I cannot reconcile with reality what we really had. To have someone like you was fantasy for me. 

So I thank you for all the things that you have done to me. For making me happy, for making me feel appreciated and for making me feel worthy. But I hope that you have not made me feel these only to take it all again and leave me with nothing. I was content with my cold distant world until you introduced love, care and appreciation. I may have at some point given up on us but you promised to hold on no matter what. I know you will never blame me for that is how good you are. You make me feel more guilty that I have been doing the guilt game ever since-for which I ask for forgiveness.  

There is Dignity in Losing

I have always loved contests for I am used to winning. A day before the announcement came, I already learned about the winners and the results depressed me. My entry which I have viewed to be the best among the entries did not even make it to the top 3. But who would not see their entries as the best? I was not prepared for the shock that I cried. I have poured my heart into the proposal, my very first as an environmental analyst, and I have failed. It made a huge blow in my confidence making me doubt if I can really go out into the world and share my environmental concepts. Will someone else appreciate it and see it as I see it? Have I made the right choice in changing my track?

It maybe a little consolation that these struggles came at the start of my adventures with environmental management. It can be said that I am to be inspired by these failures to make things better in the future. In my mind it is that way but my heart is disconsolate. Call me a sore loser but don't we all cry when things we have poured our passion into go unappreciated? It is even a bigger consolation that in the course of this competition, I have refreshed links with some old friends.

Yet it is wrong to question the choice of the judges. I respect their choice for there must be some wisdom to it. I have decided to make this event a deciding point in my career. That when I win, I will pursue it and if I am not I will revert to what I was doing. I guess I know the answer now. I will still pursue it. To each his own. I believe somewhere out there, there must be some who can truly appreciate what I can offer. I just hope the other entries have poured their heart out with what they passed- at least this thought is comforting.

Pray me luck. 

When Friendship Withers

Almost a year ago, I have severed ties with a person I have considered a close friend for a long time. Maybe it was part of the course of growing up to move out of the familiar zone and seek out the uncertainties outside. In doing so it does not necessitate to forget those that we hold dear but in my case, I believe it was.

Looking back, I think that the closeness that we once had was an illusion we have momentarily believed on. For there was no one to turn to, no better opponent to motivate each other and no other bright mind to appreciate whatever mundane things we do in our lives. We have most things in common so we clicked. We have grown to believe that we know each other. Do we? Looking back all I see is a pile of lies and deceit. I am not sure if it was how we defied the concept of "opposite poles repel".

Still I do not have regrets in sharing a considerable part of my life with her as it has been fruitful. I have  defined true friendship through her. I found that the most important ingredient to true friendship is sincerity- one thing that her or both of us are inconsistent. Whatever our reasons for the dishonesty, no reason can justify that.

I just hope that we can forgive each other for all the faults we made. So that if we look back and revisit all the memories we had as friends, we smile and be grateful of how each of us made impacts in our lives. I hope that whatever we have not achieved as immature friends, we achieve it as mature strangers. 

Halik sa Pisngi ng Langit

I just feel that the pocketbooks as we call them are doing a great disservice to their patrons. It may be true that these romance novels are meant to ease away the difficulties of life but it is another thing to create delusions. It eases away the demons by creating entertainment but must not be to the point of creating a notion that totally misleads people. I admire those that write explicitly on their covers the disclaimer that the piece to be read is plainly fiction, somehow it helps inform the reading public that what they read is something remote from reality.

These stories are often identical. It seems that there are few molds of the stories they generate- they only change the setting and the characters and voila, you have another story. The same story of how two people met, locked their gazes and knew they were inlove. The story will often involve the rich or a Cinderella. And yet the readers find it appealing and seem to believe it can happen in real life. Is it possible that they write something a bit realistic without necessarily sacrificing the marketability of their stories? I hope that can be done.

I cannot blame those that write it as a tale based on a true story because it is. With the numbers they have managed to corrupt that love conquers all, indeed there countless people who have gone through love just like in the books. Yet not entirely for most of them, I am sure, did not end up happily ever after. For is there happiness in a relationship where the lady gives in very easily with just the kisses and stares of a guy? What kind of mentality is that? reducing women as weak organisms unable to resist the charms of men. If you do not find that revolting, then I do not know what it is.

The romance novel industry is being fueled by the huge following of the women from the lower brackets and few from the upper boxes who do not care about their image. Somehow perception evolved that reading this type of material usually associates the individual with low income brackets, lack of maturity and educations.  Tell me I am biased but it is how I see it.

Corporate Social Responsibility?

Very commonly heard that whenever a company plans for a CSR activity, the popular choices would be to spend a day at the orphanage or plant trees. I think majority of the companies I know choose tree planting. The environmentalist inside me finds it funny that I do not find that as an expression of responsibility at all. I see CSR as the opportunity of these private institutions to bring back to society. It is like their contribution to the betterment of humanity. I just think that tree planting without proper studies are more detrimental than contributary.

Tree planting can sometimes be a way of introducing invasive species. Instead of helping thicken the vegetation, it may compete for resources that will soon thin out the other plant populations. At this degree, the number of organisms depending on the eliminated population will also thin out followed by those that depend on them too. This may be an extreme speculation but not remote.

Irresponsible tree planting can also eliminate our endemic plants and animals. In the same manner as I have mentioned in the earlier paragraph, the capacity of the introduced specie to survive and adapt may be greater than those that are originally thriving in the area. As a result, annihilation of those that we originally have is possible. Sadly, at a rate that even us may not even give attention to. 

In my basic understanding of the environment, disrupting an ecosystem can bring effects that have not existed in our projections. Careful plotting of the interdependency of the organisms prior to introducing a population may be a helpful step in making the CSR activities more meaningful. The effort to help should not just be genuinely felt but must also be done the proper way.

I appreciate those that make the effort of thinking about how they can help with reviving the environment. We just need sincerity and  deeper commitment.

Shadows Fall

I just learned that my granny passed away today.

Is there such a thing as being prepared for the loss of someone dear? For if someone is really dear, no matter how much preparation is made there will always be the pain that will grip you. It is the sad thing with being born to a young family- you are not prepared for the shock of loss. You have known them to be vibrant and energetic forgetting that they too grow old and will someday go. Even if old age is bound to take them, it is still sad as the years of being connected with them made as much impact in your life.

It is a personal experience to have my grandparents and uncles while they are strong. I can vividly remember vacations filled with picnics by the river, swimming or just simply going to the fields together. The fields back home are heaven for the young as you get to find a lot of fruits and get to eat them while leisurely sitting under the shade of the tree. I have all remembered my relatives as strong and happy. 

A few years back one of my grandfathers died. It was so sudden that it took me by surprise. Some months passed and then an aunt died, and then an uncle and then an uncle and then a cousin and then a niece. The people I once knew and went home to during vacations are now gone.

Now that I am working and is usually out of Manila, I barely find time to go home to the province. One time when I was home, I visited my grandmother. I was shocked with what I saw, although she still remembers me she was already showing signs of old age. Nowhere was the chatty grandmother who managed to waylay a rabid dog only with a piece of firewood. My grandfather is old too. How I wish I can make more time to visit him and rekindle what we had. Even if he may not fully remember them. I will do the remembering for the two of us.Even if they have physically left us, we will always be together in my memories.

DIVA- divavae

I passed by some baklitas on my way to the airport. I smiled as I heard them belt out diva songs on the karaoke. I am sure one of them is Whitney Houston and the others can be Vinah Morales or Sharon Cuneta. This experience brought me back to the days when I became part of a production: the DIVA- divavae project. It was a 2 hour show about the question of who is the ultimate diva of them all. As the title implies, all of the characters are gays except for the love interest who appears to be manly but I have kept a different opinion of him even up to now.Just like in real life, no emerged the victor as all singers are supreme in their own rights.

Even way back college, I have dreamt of setting up an organization that will unite gays who think they are divas. I have met and have known a lot of these biriteras who would have gladly joined the organization should I have mustered enough courage to start it. What stopped me from doing so is the thought of a purpose. Way back then I cannot find a strong reason for the existence of such an organization. Will it merely be a special interest group and nothing else? I lack the vision back then.

So every time that I hit the karaoke and feel the urge to make birit- I have to endure the loneliness. Not that my girlfriends are no good singers but they can never replace the kind of singing baklita biriteras will give. Girls tend to be generous when singing with gays thinking that they are a bit superior when it comes to range. There is no thrill at all- I am always looking for the sapawan and the pataasan and the longest to breath portion.

Pseudoparent- My Kalayaan Story

Moving to a new house is beneficial for "sentimentals" like me- we find things tucked with all the other memorabilias. I found in the heap some pictures of my boys. I may not be lucky enough to be blessed with an ovary but I was able to "raise" around 70 marvelous boys in the span of two years. I have a lot of regrets in life but this page of my college life is something I will always be proud of.

Looking at all the pictures, it is amazing how I can remember their names and what courses they initially pursued in college. They may not remember me or what I am but I am happy that I have played a role in their lives. I am sure that somewhere along that year of being together, they may have picked an inspiration or two from me.  I feel like a teacher who is remotely remembered but has been part of those formative years. 

I am friends with some of them in Facebook so I tried checking their profiles. Some of them are licensed architects, accountants, engineers, chemists and are pretty much doing well in their careers. It amazes me how these once gawky kids turned into very aggressive corporate cells. It makes me proud. They may not remember me or credit part of their life to me, I am proud just the same. 

I am sure every Resident Assistant of Kalayaan Residence feels the same way as I do. Some of us stay very close to our "anaks" and some like me drift away. But this does not mean to say we have forgotten them (even if they have forgotten us). "Lahat kayo mga anak ko, galing kayong lahat sa puso ko" is a line in a movie so apt for my situation. 

Broken Chains

Yesterday tried my patience.  I hope I won.

Not so long ago, I decided to part ways with someone dear to me. Looking back now  I cannot clearly remember why. All I can remember is anger. Anger blinds us and pushes us to be rash. But I won't say that what I did was rash. In light of our circumstances then, I m sure we have made the right decision. Rather, I made the right decision.

Imagine having someone so close to you, what would you feel if you think they have betrayed you? But time do heal all wounds. I can say now that I have forgiven, I can say that I have moved on. There are times however that I feel as if I have been unfair for deserting a person when I was most expected to be around. Although I know I was not a necessity, my being around would have been an added ingredient to happiness.

But happiness was my very reason for severing the ties. Tampo was only secondary and anger was just on the outlines. I am sure that if I continue to be close, I can be a potential reason for sadness for I hold the secrets and stand as a reminder of the threatening past. Better that way I thought.

There are times when I am so down and I miss this person badly. I am just so used of the presence. The openness of the conversation and the randomness of thoughts have often washed away the pressures that hounded me. I miss these moments. For only on these moments can I be candid, unguarded and unreserved. Every time I am tempted to drop her a message, I muster every ounce of courage not to do so. That is what every real friend will do - to sacrifice a little of their comfort zone for their friends. 

What the Mind Forgets

Who can blame the mind if it pushes back sadness, pain, rejection and all negatives at the dark phantom  and leaves the happy thoughts on easy retrieval? Somehow what the mind vainly tries to forget, the heart remembers. If this is the price to pay for retaining someone dear in my memory then I will gladly pay the price.

I am always good at anniversaries. I remember the birthdays, the weddings, christening, first meeting, first date, first gift, first kiss and death. Being a sentimental person, I have kept mementoes of these events in the past- from a simple candy wrapper to an elaborate wedding invitation. Almost a year passed when someone dear died for a greater cause. It would have been easier if he had died of old age or even of sickness but not with the way he did. Never in my thoughts have I imagined him to die unceremoniously.

A lot of those close to us might argue unceremoniously because of the nature of his job. Having your life constantly on the line is a peril of his job. The recognitions that came post-humously may also be cited as a great contradiction to unceremoniously. But I beg to differ for despite all of these, I find it the death untimely. It caught me by surprise. It caught us all by surprise. It placed us all in grief. 

One might think that I feel this way because of my selfish reasons. That I have not said what I needed to say and what he needed to hear. We have not closed wounds from the past. Maybe it is true that it feels unfair to be left here with all the guilt and regrets. It feels painfully unfair to be explaining with the void after years of gathering courage to speak up. 

Maybe his death will be forgotten by the nation he died for. Maybe he will just be seen as another necessary casualty for the greater cause. Maybe he will. But I am sure that he will live forever in my memory- what the mind forgets, the heart will always remember. 

Ynarte- Kahit mga Bakla may Manang din

Nakaupo ang bakla sa may malapit sa may pintuan ng kainan kaya nakita niya ang guwapong lalaking noon ay naging kasintahan din niya. Ano nga ba ang dapat na maramdaman niya makalipas ng maraming taon? Galit?Matapos siyang iwan ito upang sumaa umano sa isang tunay na babae. Panghihinayang? Sapagkat pinakawalan niya ang ganito kabonggang lalaki? Ganun naman talaga ang drama ng mga bakla diba? Ipagpapalit din sila ng mga lalaki sa mga tunay na babae o sa mga baklang higit na may pera. Ngunit sa relasyon nila dati ay hindi akmang isiping pera ang naging habol ng lalaki sapagkat mas higit nga itong nakakariwasa kaysa sa kanya. Higit itong mas malalim at puno ng respeto.

Tahimik niyang tinitignan ang lalaki na mag-isa sa isa pang mesa. Waring may hinihintay. Wala namang nagbago sa kanya bagkos ay mukhang sumeryoso at tumanda lamang ito. Mga natural na bahid ng panahon. Kinapa ng bakla ang puso niya kung ano ang dapat na maramdaman. Kinilig siya siyempre kasi hindi niya lubos maisip na magkakarelasyon sila noon ng guwapong lalaking ito. Ano nga ba ang dahilan at natiis siya nito? Sabi noon nung lalaki kasi matalino daw siya, masayahin- walang dull moments. Exactly the words na laging ginagamit ng lalaki kapag tinatanong niya kung bakit siya.

Iniisip ng bakla kung lalapit ba siya at makikipagpansinan sa lalaki. Magkumustahan baga pagkalipas ng ilang taong di pagkikita. Ni hindi nga sila magkaibigan sa Facebook kaya hindi niya batid kung ano na nga ba ang estado ng isat-isa. Sila din ba ang nagkatuluyan nung dahilan kung bakit iniwan siya nito? Kahit kaunti ay nahihiya siyang puntahan ito. Nangangati siyang masagot ang mga tanong niya ngunit pinangungunahan siya ng hiya. Hindi niya alam kung bakit.

Umasa na lang si bakla na sana ay maunang makita siya ng lalaki at kusang lalapit, magkukumustahan at magkukuwentuhan na parang walang nangyari sa kanila. Kalilimutan na sa kanilang huling pagkikita noon ay iniwanan lamang siya ng lalaki at si bakla ay nangngangangawang patago sa halos isang linggo. Walang nakakaalam na noon ayparang mabaliw siya nung iwan siya nito. Pasimple niyang sinusulyapsulyapan ang lalaki. Ngunit matapos ang 10 minuto ay walang nangyari. Ubos na kanina pa ang kanyang kinakain at nakakahiya namang umupo lang siya doon at diladilaan ang mga buto. Nagpasya siyang tumayo na lang at daanan ang lalaki. Ngunit kakatayo pa lamang niya ay dumating na ang hinihintay ng lalaki- ang kanyang mag-ina.

Nagtuloy sa labas ang bakla na hindi alam ang kasalukuyang nararamdaman. Ngumiti na lamang siya at kunwari ay walang nangyari. Kahit sa loob ay lupasay levels na dapat siya, nagpakatatag siya. Ganyan naman na siya dati pa. Kaya siya iniwan at pinagpalait dahil sa pag iinarte niya- gaya na lamang nung kanina. Di bale nang laging nasasaktan basta feel na feel ni baklang ipreserve ang kabirhenan para sa tamang lalaki. Inisip niya, paano kaya kung di siya nag-inarte at pinagbigyan si lalaki sa lahat ng hilig niya? Sila pa din ba hanggang ngayon? Hindi niya alam at malamang ay buong buhay siyang bubulabugin ng katanungang ito. 

Veni, Vedi, Vakla

Reminiscing is my way of destressing. In times when pressure seems to be at my door or when my direction is clouded, I always look back at where I came from and how I came to be and surely i will be reminded of what and where to go. What they say in Tagalog as "di marunong lumingon sa pinanggalingan ay di makakarating sa paroroonan" is very apt for how I deal with my stress. Ironic that despite the fact that my high school life seems to be the most bitter part of my memories, it has always been the best part to revisit.

So I took time after my birthday to go home and look back at all the things. Upon boarding the bus home, i was hit by nostalgia. How many times have I boarded the very same bus line just to go for regional competitions or merely to make some visit to my relatives in Baguio? I have not always been good with traveling, I remember my younger days when I also used to shamelessly vomit. Now I cringe  at the sight of kids vomiting on the bus, leaving their marks just below the window that is so difficult to move up. 

I went to Bontoc and ate at the "official" lunch  destination during division competitions. Was surprised to see the menu still the same with the prices nearly doubling. Nothing much changed in Bontoc, the college and the high school are pretty much the same even the mode of transportation going there. On  a Sunday, vendors will pack the jeeps with their wares leaving little space for your feet to move. Walter Clapp is still as it is- my "official accommodation" during exams and competitions. I also remember an instance when my crush used to be at the other room. 

I went to Tadian to visit my folks, went to Sabangan for the other side of the family and savored Sagada to the fullest. I met some old faces, conversed with them and got some old emotions stirred. Nothing much changed in my hometown. I wish I have the luxury of coming back ever so often to eat my favorite cake at the Coop canteen, to visit Bontoc and stay overnight at the Walter Clapp, to take a dip at the Chico River in Sabangan and do a lot more. 

I realized one thing during this short time- I miss being me. 

Wait I Love My Your Remembrance

I believe that for most of the UP students who stayed at Kalayaan Residence Hall, the friends that they meet there remain to be their friends all throughout their college days or beyond. It is an advantage to have stayed at the dorm for you will be presented daily an opportunity to know some people outside your college. I am always the envy of my classmates who are non-dormers because a lot of people would always greet me. That I can say is one reason why college was not that difficult for a probinsiyano like me.

Inside the UP community are dorms that have communities of their own. True that when you are out of the dorm, you find comfort through familiarity with the fellow dormers. When inside however, factions are there-factions made by special interests, by partner corridors, by religion or by regionalism. Each faction asserting its identity.

I remember barely two weeks into my college life and we had this corridor assembly called upon by the resident assistant. Except for few talkative people, I am not familiar with most of my corridor mates. I was like standing silently while waiting for the assembly when one smiling face made some introductions. He said he is an Ilocano so we immediately started conversing in Ilocano as if we have a lot of common stories to share. My first year went on and I grew to know and appreciate this person as a truly genuine one. He is always sweet, easy to approach, generous and friendly. Even when he joined the fraternity, I did not feel an inch of change from him when it comes to interacting with me. He is a true friend.

All throughout my college days we will occasionally meet at the oval or on the jeep or at the shopping center and we do not fail to take a moment and catch up with the things that have gone with our lives. Even when I was passing by their tambayan and we see each other, he will always wave and smile.

Whenever we see each other we think of our first year days and laugh. We can not do that anymore. Only I can. I look back and not just laugh but be sad why such young soul is taken away from us. I do not question the Lord for the things that happened but I am just human and humans do have emotions. If it is a sin to be sad after all these years, then let me be a sinner as a testament of how dear you are to me as a friend.

"Misautogeny"

I have not been long in the training industry and I am still building my credentials and reputation so I am a bit uneasy when one Igorot organization invited me to conduct a personality development training for them. Not that I am not confident with my craft but I am unsure of the best approach to use. Every good trainer will first study the demographics of the intended audience to calibrate the training and come up with better impact. Ironic that I am one of them yet I am not sure how to deal with them.The fact that I was unpopular and unappreciated back at my hometown may have conditioned me to be too aloof of the idea of doing my thing with my own people.

Among those who attended the training, only the person who recommended my services was aware that I am an Igorot. Even during the introduction, I have not made an effort to tell the crowd where I came from and what my ethnicity is. I am afraid that making it known to them might affect how they view me as a trainer. I am not sure where I have picked that absurdity but it sure stuck in my mind that time.

A day passed and the training went smoothly. There are times that the participants struggled on expressing their thoughts in English or Tagalog but I opted not to reach out using our local vernacular. The revelation only came during the open forum. While soliciting questions from the crowd, this old gentleman kept asking something and had this difficulty to phrase it in English- I was touched by his desire to learn that I forgot my inhibitions. I asked him in the local tongue what he wanted to know and he laughed. Everyone laughed and asked why I know their dialect. I just smiled and asked the old man about his question.

At the end of the training, the moderator asked the leaders to deliver the usual speeches of gratitude to the resource speakers and those who attended. The old gentleman did talk and what he said touched me even more.

 "I am very glad that one among us can do something that you just did"

On some other occasions, these words might be too ordinary to hear. But hearing it from the old man with all the sincerity and respect made me very happy. Somehow the feeling of acceptance and appreciation from someone of your kind made all those doubts go away. I am not sure if a similar group will ever invite me again, but I am sure that should that chance come again- I will have no fears.  

Perks of Graduating from a Small School

Nine long years and I look back at the time when all my emotions were unbridled and all hormones raging- high school graduation. Although I was a nobody there, I am grateful that I studied in a small public high school. Not because I have smaller competition academically but because I was able to build relationships with my classmates. We do keep that special circle of friends but I know all my classmates on a personal level. In a class of less than 60, 2 sections since first year- I share a lot of memories with them. I can still recall the speech of the batch valedictorian stressing how after so many years, we will look back at both the happy and sad memories with a smile.

Being the introvert that I am, I do not have a lot of strong friends. Should I have been in a bigger school with more students, I might have been pushed to the side where nobody can remember me a year after high school. Nine years passed and I still have vivid recollections for each of my former classmates. Graduation day was a sad day for me. Graduations are a bit grand in the barrios, it is an opportunity to show off the cooking skills of mothers. After the ceremonies, all the graduates will go from house to house to partake of what each graduate prepared. Even if each house prepared all the same dishes, there is always room for some. 

Proof to my lack of friends is the number of people who came at my house. Only three of them came and might not have if not for the reason that they are too ashamed not to join me when I was with them the whole picture taking sessions. Looking at my graduation pictures, I have only 2 pictures with my teachers which is a testimony how distant and unpopular I was. Nevertheless I enjoyed high school graduation. It seems to be a portal for me to a wider selection of memories- memories when I was younger and is still dreaming where will I be. True enough, I look at all the memories whether happy or sad with a smile. Those are all the building blocks of what I am right now. 

Arte Mio

There was a time in my career when I felt like I was not needed at all- that what I was doing felt like way below standards. Have you ever felt that dispensable in a job? I decided to resign despite the fact that it was nearing the Yuletide season then. I passed my resignation and the big boss talked to me. He was the prime reason for me to stay on that job as he was gentle yet sharp on the job- caring yet unyielding in his pursuit for excellence. For a first job after college- this sort of a protective boss is a dream come true.

He left the job earlier than I did. He left us individual gifts and cards inscribed with his personal greetings. It was not the ordinary-generic greeting cards sent by bosses to their subordinates. All these years, I occasionally take it out of the box and read it. It never fails to restore my faith in my capabilities and assure me that someone- at least at one point in time is genuinely appreciative of my efforts. I have extended on that job for some months where I believe I have left a good impression- thanks to his letter that inspired me a lot.

Today that I am at crossroads, I took time to read the letter again. I cried just like before. Not because of the fact that I have satisfied my desire for some assurance but because of a deeper realization that I have long ignored. Together with his thought of assuring me that I am doing good is the effort to make me understand that the situation is two way. It should not be all about me- there is also that job i will leave who might value me but failed miserably to show it. I must not always be on the look for the protective boss for why can't I be the protective employee this time? I must not always yearn for explicit appreciation for at the end of the day,  what would matter would be the self fulfillment.

Years and distance might have separated us but he continuously inspires me with this letter that constantly reminds me of humility, of feeling content despite everything, and of sensitivity to others. He had also left me with a set of friends that I know I can keep for life. Like me, they were touched by his warmth. I will never regret having met him. I look to him although he may never knew how much it means to me that our paths crossed once upon a time.

The One That Got Away

How awkward can it be to see that your best friend is bound to be married to the man you have loved the most in your life? I used to laugh at dramas like this for I was thinking that once the mind gets over things, the heart gets over too. I guess I was wrong again for no matter how much I deny the truth, it is true that I feel envious towards a friend who will be marrying soon the one that got away. The endless barrage of "what ifs" still haunt me every time I see them together.

I will not play the part of the bitter gourd who will make the lives of the protagonists miserable by spending everything on my disposal just to prove my pain. For it is just a slight pain- a pinch in the heart that reminds you of possibilities with the one that got away. Endless questions whether you could have been happier and more fulfilled if you could have pushed for your feelings harder. Painful it is but not bitter. I do find joy in the realization that my friend will be happy and that they are fit together. Ironic that you wish them well yet somewhere in your heart you wish that the situation could have been better if partners can be interchanged.

It will be so much fun if they will invite me to their wedding. I might come in full regalia. I might come with the band. I might come with all the boldness I can gather.  I might put my best game face on and greet the newly weds while looking intently at the guy expecting him to react the same way I imagined. Am I sounding bitter now? Maybe not attending at all is a better option. No reasons for them to invite me anyway and no chances for any seed of bitterness within my heart to be liberated. Hoping someday, all the pain that is there no matter how small will be the one that will go away. 

Shapes and Shades

Up until a few months ago, I was convinced with the idea that being an isko or an iska is a guarantee that you are better exposed and more aware of the array of life. Having tagged ourselves as the cream of the crop and also as a progressive breed, we among all the academic institutions are the best examples of what open-mindedness can really become. My university life actually deconstructed my idea of conservatism as the conservatives we have at the university are a far cry from those outside. I have embraced my sexuality because of these beliefs.Little do I know that I am bound to be disappointed by this expectation tagged at most iskos. 

Imagine the shock I had when I learned that an anti-gay crusade pitched against me is being masterminded by a fellow iska. I have been through a lot of crusades against homosexuals and have managed to survive them all. For most of those I have encountered are waged by religious fanatics and bordering hypocrites. I even had one crush whom I professed love and who advised me in response that God has better plans for us. If all rejections are wrapped this way, I will not mind having them everyday. I also do not mind dismissing these detractors for I understand deeply where they are coming from.

I can not seem to find the source of motivation for this fellow iska. At every opportunity she gets, she will be ranting at how having a homosexual in an organization corrupt morals, image and decency. Are the gays rare during her prime that she is not aware of the fact that gays are just like bitches who come in various shades and shapes? I have not read a single scientific paper equating homosexuality with lack of decency, propriety, morality and whatever dogma they want to believe on but fail to act out. What is surprising is she gets to have some people agree of her bidding.

Just like gays, iskos and iskas come in various shades and shapes too. Hers is swinnish with the dominant color black. If I may borrow a line from a NA movie, "may sakit ang Diyos nung pinanganak ka."