Random Bitter Sweet Thoughts of A Struggling Writer and A Self Proclaimed Artist

Family

At last, I spent my Christmas with my Family.

Meet the gang!

Nothing beats spending Christmas with the family.


Good News, Bad News

Raf is making a “sort of” documentary movie for her Rizal class. The movie is their final exam.  So for these past few days we slept late or not at all. She’s doing well for a first timer, hehehe. Last night I did some tweaking, editing and whatnot with her movie. I let her sleep the whole afternoon because she haven’t got enough sleep. After I was done with the editing part, I slept beside her.  I woke up in the morning with her arms around me, hugging me(“plus the laway, hahaha.” No. Of course I’m just exaggerating and trying to be funny, duh).

It’s great sharing bed with someone you love. The feeling of knowing that when you wake up the next morning, that someone special is beside you. Ahhh.. what a great, great, morning. Yey!

 —-

I received a text from my cousin Amor a while ago that Kuya Edgar (our cousin) died last night. I don’t know the whole story yet. The last time I was with him was almost two years ago during our family gathering. He works in Butuan and I, in Cebu.  He was bragging about his new 3G Nokia phone the last time we talked. He’s a funny guy. He’s supposed to spend Christmas in our house in Cagayan de Oro this year. Obviously, that will not happen anymore. So sad. T_T

Rest in Peace, Kuya.


My One and Only

Junior & Senior

Junior and Senior

Happy Father’s Day Papa!

 


Thoughts

Last night’s talk was scary yet overwhelming. Never seen that soft side of you. I’ve seen you talk like that but last night was different.  You are different. I know your family and friends see you as a pillar. You are tough, stong, solid, calm, composed, cool, and numb, which most people misunderstood as being insensitive. But you are not. Those are the essentials that you need to give the people around you Strength. Strength to realize that hope is always there. That life isn’t that bad at all. And you showed that to me again. Just in time.

I believe that people bumped to each other for a reason. I ~ I have many reasons. For now, I have two for you and the rest are yet to be realized.  Once I thought my mission is to make you even stronger but it turns out to be Me. It is I who needs you for that reason. I envy you for your principles. I know your parents are so proud of what you’ve become now. My parents would be more proud if they have a daughter like you. I was never that strong. But slowly I’m becoming one (molded by life’s experiences). I am strong in some aspects but in some, I’m not strong enough to be what my parents expected me to be. Well, in time. For now, this is who I am. (Oh, parents… We love them the best way we can.)

The other mission? Well, you are experiencing it right now. And guess what, it’s working really well…

Until then.

P.S.

I love you even more.

Listening to: “How to Save a Life”  by the Fray


Almost…

On my wedding day, I carried my wife in my arms. The bridal car stopped in front of our one-room flat. My buddies insisted that I carry her out of the car in my arms. So I carried her into our home. She was then plump and shy. I was a strong and happy bridegroom.

This was the scene ten years ago.

The following days were as simple as a cup of pure water: we had a kid; I went into business and tried to make more money. When the assets were steadily increasing, the affection between us seemed to ebb. She was a civil servant. Every morning we left home together and got home almost at the same time. Our kid was studying in a boarding school.

Our marriage life seemed to be enviably happy. But the calm life was more likely to be affected by unpredictable changes.
Dew came into my life.

It was a sunny day. I stood on a spacious balcony. Dew hugged me from behind. My heart once again was immersed in her stream of love. This was the apartment I bought for her.

Dew said, you are the kind of man who best draws girls’ eyeballs. Her words suddenly reminded me of my wife. When we were just married, my wife said, Men like you, once successful, will be very attractive to girls.

Thinking of this, I became somewhat hesitant. I knew I had betrayed my wife. But I couldn’t help doing so.

I moved Dew’s hands aside and said you go to select some furniture, O.K.? I’ve got something to do in the company. Obviously she was unhappy, because I had promised to do it together with her. At the moment, the idea of divorce became clearer in my mind although it used to be something impossible to me.

However, I found it rather difficult to tell my wife about it. No matter how mildly I mentioned it to her, she would be deeply hurt.

Honestly, she was a good wife. Every evening she was busy preparing dinner. I was sitting in front of the TV. The dinner was ready soon. Then we watched TV together. Or, I was lounging before the computer, visualizing Dew’s body. This was the means of my entertainment.

One day I said to her in a slightly joking way, suppose we divorce, what will you do? She stared at me for a few seconds without a word. Apparently she believed that divorce was something too far away from her. I couldn’t imagine how she would react once she got to know I was serious.

When my wife went to my office, Dew had just stepped out. Almost all the staff looked at my wife with a sympathetic eye and tried to hide something while talking to her. She seemed to have got some hint. She gently smiled at my subordinates. But I read some hurt in her eyes.

Once again, Dew said to me, divorce her, O.K.? Then we live together. I nodded. I knew I could not hesitate any more.

When my wife served the last dish, I held her hand. I’ve got something to tell you, I said. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes. Suddenly I didn’t know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the serious topic calmly.

She didn’t seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why? I’m serious. I avoided her question. This so-called answer made her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man!

That night, we didn’t talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer, because my heart had gone to Dew.

With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company. She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. I felt a pain in my heart. The woman who had been living ten years with me would become a stranger one day. But I could not take back what I had said.

Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer.

Late that night, I came back home after entertaining my clients. I saw her writing something at the table. I fall asleep fast. When I woke up, I found she was still there. I turned over and was asleep again.

She brought up her divorce conditions: she didn’t want anything from me, but I was supposed to give her one month time before divorce, and in the month’s time we must live as normal a life as possible. Her reason was simple: our son would finish his summer vacation a month later and she didn’t want him to see our marriage was broken.

She passed me the agreement she drafted, and then asked me, Nick, do you still remember how I entered our bridal room on the wedding day? This question suddenly brought back all those wonderful memories to me. I nodded and said, I remember. You carried me in your arms, she continued, so, I have a requirement, that is, you carry me out in your arms on the day when we divorce. From now to the end of this month, you must carry me out from the bedroom to the door every morning.

I accepted with a smile. I knew she missed those sweet days and wished to end her marriage romantically.

I told Dew about my wife’s divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she does, she has to face the result of divorce, she said scornfully. Her words more or less made me feel uncomfortable.

My wife and I hadn’t had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. We even treated each other as a stranger. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mummy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly, Let us start from today, don’t tell our son. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for a bus, I drove to the office.

On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. We were so close that I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn’t looked at this intimate woman carefully for a long time. I found she was not young any more. There were some fine wrinkles on her face.

On the third day, she whispered to me, the outside garden is being demolished. Be careful when you pass there.

On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I seemed to feel that we were still an intimate couple and I was holding my sweetheart in my arms. The visualization of Dew became vague.

On the fifth and sixth day, she kept reminding me something, such as, where she put the ironed shirts, I should be careful while cooking, etc. I nodded. The sense of intimacy was even stronger. I didn’t tell Dew about this.

I felt it was easier to carry her. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger. I said to her, It seems not difficult to carry you now. She was picking her dresses. I was waiting to carry her out. She tried quite a few but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have grown bigger. I smiled. But I suddenly realized that it was because she was thinner that I could carry her more easily, not because I was stronger. I knew she had buried all the bitterness in her heart. Again, I felt a sense of pain. Subconsciously I reached out a hand to touch her head.

Our son came in at the moment. Dad, it’s time to carry mum out. He said. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had been an essential part of his life. She gestured our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face because I was afraid I would change my mind at the last minute. I held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly, as if we came back to our wedding day. But her much lighter weight made me sad.

On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. She said, actually I hope you will hold me in your arms until we are old.

I held her tightly and said, both you and I didn’t notice that our life lacked intimacy.

I jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my decision. I walked upstairs. Dew opened the door. I said to her,  “Sorry Dew, I don’t want to divorce my wife. I’m serious.”

She looked at me, astonished. The she touched my forehead. You got no fever. She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Dew, I said, I can only say sorry to you, I won’t divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn’t value the details of life, not because we didn’t love each other any more. Now I understand that since I carried her into the home, she gave birth to our child, I am supposed to hold her until I am old. So I have to say sorry to you.

Dew seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove to the office.

When I passed the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet for my wife which was her favorite. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, I’ll carry you out every morning until we are old.

 

-from sanasanz


Today’s Subject: “Daddy”

I opened one of my letter boxes one day. I segregated letters, threw some, kept some, and read some. I never realized until that day that my papa sent me letters — a lot of letters. I found out that everytime my papa sends letters for my mama, there is always a small paper address to me. A simple note that said: “Kumusta ate?, How’s school?, Grades?, and take care of mama, banit and totong for me” and always ends it up with a simple: “Take care ate. I love you.”

But those times didn’t last long. I was in college then when sweet chocolate moments became sour like vinegar. My papa and I had been through rough times. He became a dictator, I became a rebel. Not totally a rebel but I gave him some kick on his ass. And I’m not proud saying this. My papa and I had this on and off relationship. During my college years and even when I got the chance to work here in Cebu, papa and I are civil.

Here are some memories of our so called Love-Hate relationship:

My papa loves me so much:
Even if we have this Love-Hate relationship, he didn’t forget his promises. Even if he hated me most of the times, he never fails to make me smile. One day, he texted me to meet him outside the office. Outside, I saw him smiling at me and said, “Ate, naa na imong dream car. Tanawa sa if ok na.” I know it’s not really for me but the thought that he said “naa na imong dream car” and I got to drive it to the office was a dream come true.

The day I hated him:
The day I disappointed him was the day he became a dictator. He wanted me to take up engineering or any course that will earn you a title. I did take BS-ECE but unfortunately I dropped it. It was not because I don’t like the course. It’s just that I don’t like it enough for me to see myself in that profession. I always like architecture, fine arts or other professions that say “ARTs.” He hated me so much and I hated him too.

Oh Memories, memories, memories…

Early January, there were a lot of cold and warmth moments with my papa. But still I haven’t heard him say “IT” again and I miss it so much. Not until I recieved a call on Feb 17.  He said he is home for a 28th day vacation leave. Then he said it…Finally…

“I love you, ate.”

I smiled and said my part. I was inside my room staring at the ceiling, smiling. A feeling that you know soon everything will be fine.  I will be his little girl again and I will have my papa back.

I can’t wait to be home again…


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