Sixth Christmas

It's been 6 long years since we've been together. I could still hear our song playing in the air. I could still see your smile that haunted me every Christmas since you've left.

It's about this time on year 2001 when we were together. You're driving at 80kph, not that fast, not even that slow. I was giggling as you utter each word of that song, our song. From time to time, I'd look at you, just to see your smile that makes me feel at peace.

It's nearing midnight when we decided to speed our way to your house. I could still see how serious you looked while you struggled to sing. I've made fun of you as you missed that one particular high note. We were laughing so hard that we did not see the old woman with her grandson. It's too late to hit on the brakes so you did the only thing you could to spare them.

You swerved to the right. I could still hear that eerie screech and the loud thud. I know we slammed on some wall. But I couldn't remember anything after that. After that loud thud, there's nothing but darkness... and a soothing feeling of floating in mid-air.

Fifty-two hours in coma... that's what your mom told me when I opened my eyes. I tried to look for you but it's just your mom, a doctor, two police officers and two nurses. They did not say anything: the men in uniform just handed me some photos.

Your car's fully wrecked as it smashed on the wall. Inside, I saw you lying face-down. The officer told me that I was under you and that you've sheltered me from the impact and the broken glasses. Upon hearing this, I started to shout. I cursed Him who took you from me and sobbed like a madman. The nurses gave me tranquilizers to calm me. I saw your mom crying as I dozed off to sleep.

This is already the 6th year since that happened. But I could still feel the pain, the heartbreak of losing the only person who could understand me and keep me from harming myself. I still miss you, Nathan. And I'm still wishing you're here... Could you visit me tonight? In my dreams...?

The Real Reason

I'm feeling low. Not because something happened to me early morning of Sunday. It's because of these feelings I've buried deep down within my being. I've hidden a lot of tears, thousands of fears, and depression that seems to burst out soon. Right now, I wanted to cry. Not because someone had hurt me today but because I didn't dealt with the past.

I've ran away from it. From them. I said it won't matter, there's still tomorrow. I'm living my life like today's the only thing that matters. I hate how it feels when I'm about to cry. I'd bite my lips so no sob would come out. I'd blink away the tears that starts to well in my eyes. I've been successful but then..

I'm hurting. I still am. I'm still imprisoned in a past that I've tried so hard to lock up inside. My knees still wobble. I'm still at lost. I'm depressed at the thought that I have a lot of things, know a lot of wondrous people but a void's still existing.

For more than a hundred times, I've told myself that things are better this way. But there's still this wanting, this unrelenting need that makes me lose my sanity.

I want to fall. Hard. I want to feel the need of being wanted, of being loved. A romantic love that I've put behind my consciousness. A commitment that might exist... But only in my dreams...

What are You Oftentimes Criticized For?

Again, I'm online to look for new job openings and try my luck at different companies. In my jobstreet, I saw a really inviting position that I'd really like to apply for. With jobstreet, some applications would ask you to answer a question. Oftentimes, it's relevant with the job, industry, or position. But the question I got this time took me by surprise.

The question's: What are you oftentimes criticized for?

I'm not sure how to answer it for I've been criticized for different reasons. Being strict, being naive, too trusting, even by how many times I've cried over guys who've hurt me. If asked that question, how is one supposed to answer?

For this blog, I'd answer it with questions about my body type. It's not that I hate being fat, it's the other way around. I don't care if I've gained twice my weight. I don't give a damn if people tease me or call me names. I'm fat. I like it. So learn to live with it.

My mom and dad would often tell me to lose some weight, enroll in a gym, or exercise. My siblings would call me Tani, my friends would say I should go to Tubby for clothes. But me, I'm not after a body to die for. I'm okay with my current built. So why can't they?

No matter how heavy I've become or how many chins I've got, I love myself. Even if a chatter from IRC actually said that I'm not his type coz I'm fat, that didn't matter. Who would like a guy who's just after good looks? Besides, I'm worth more than that.

I'd rather be loved for who I am rather than for what I look like. I'd rather be appreciated as a person of strength and beliefs rather than a mere object. =)

bakit kaya ganun?

bakit kaya ganun? masaya naman akong walang kasama. lahat ng bagay na gusto kong gawin, nagagawa ko ng walang nagpipigil, walang nagbabawal. masarap maging malaya pero bakit tila hinahanap ko yung may mag-renda sa akin? nakakainis naman.

masaya akong maging solo pero heto ako ngayon naghahanap ng makakasama ko.

dahil ba ito sa muli mong pagbabalik para guluhin akong muli? di pa ba sapat yung ilang beses na nating nasaktan ang isa't isa ng dahil sa kalokohan natin?

pwede bang awat na?