Bisikleta

Grade 4 ako nang una akong bilihan ng tatay ko ng bisikleta. Kahit na busy siya sa trabaho noon, gumagawa din naman siya ng effort para magampanan ang role niya bilang tatay ko. Nagpunta kasi siya sa Saudi noong mas bata pa ako, kaya marami rin siyang na-miss sa buhay ko. Hindi niya ako nakitang unang umakyat sa stage para makuha ang aking unang medalya. Hindi niya ako nakitang pumarada sa kalsada bilang "Mr. Mexico" noong United Nations day. Hindi niya rin nakita kung paano ko natiis ang panununtok sa akin noong isang kalaro kong masama ang ugali.

Tuwing Sabado ng umaga, dinadala niya ako sa kalsada sa tabi ng eskwelahan namin. Doon kasi ang may malapit na malawak na espasyo para makapag-practice ako. Siyempre, may dalawang training wheels pa munang nakakabit sa bike ko at wala namang effort na kayang-kaya kong sakyan ang bike ko kapag ganoon. Pero kahit na madali lang, hindi ko din siya nagustuhan masyado. Una, dahil nakakapagod. Hindi talaga ako yung bata na mahilig maglaro sa labas. Mas gusto ko pa maglaro ng mga tau-tauhan at gumawa ng mga imbentong laro kasama ang kapatid ko. Pangalawa, dahil nahihiya ako kasi matanda na ako pero hindi pa rin ako marunong.

Isang beses, tinanggal na ng tatay ko yung dalawang maliit na gulong. Subukan ko na daw na wala yung mga yun, sabi niya. At iyon, takot na takot ako. Isang pedal ko pa lang tumba na ako. Tingin daw ako sa malayo. Balanse daw ako. Sinubukan ko din naman talaga pero lagi akong natutumba. Sabi niya, lahat daw ng batang nagsisimula mag-bisikleta ay masusugatan at masusugatan. E takot akong masugatan. Kulang ako sa lakas ng loob. Kaya huwag na lang. Umuwi na lang kami.

Minsan nga may napadaang kaibigan ng tatay ko habang nagprapractice ako. "Tanggalin na natin yung maliit na gulong," sabi nung mama. "Ayaw niya," sabi ng tatay ko. "Hindi pa siya marunong." At sa sobrang hiya ko, iyon na ang huling beses na sinakyan ko ang bike ko sa labas.

Di naglaon, nakalakihan ko na yung bike. Hindi rin naman nagustuhan ng kapatid ko ang mag-bisikleta kaya natambak na lang siya sa kuwarto. Para hindi masayang, ang ginawa na lang namin ng kapatid ko ay ginamit namin syang parte ng mundo ng aming mga tau-tauhan. Yung pedal, naging rollercoaster kuno. Tapos yun pinaikot-ikot na lang namin pabaliktad yung pedal at inimagine na himihiyaw sa tuwa at kaba yung mga tau-tauhan namin. Yung upuan sa likod, naging parang verandah kung saan pwedeng tumambay ang mga tau-tauhan namin doon at mag-kwentuhan. Yung gulong, naging parang bundok kuno na pwedeng akyatin.

Pero hindin pa din tumigil ang tatay ko. Bumili pa siya ng isang bisikleta na mas malaki. Pero wala, ayoko pa rin. Lumaki lang at mas naging exciting ang rollercoaster ng mga tau-tauhan ko. Minsan kapag bored ako, sumasakay din naman ako at pinepedal nang pabaliktad, at iniisip kong parang nasa gym lang ako. Ilang buwan din siyang nakatambak lang sa kwarto hanggang sa pinamigay na lang niya sa pinsan ko para may makagamit naman. Siguro dapat nalaman na niyang hindi talaga ako sporty nung ginawa kong upuan ang basketball na regalo sa akin noon ng ninong ko noong nakaraang Pasko.

Mahilig talaga sa bisikleta ang tatay ko. Hanggang ngayon, inaalagaan pa din niya yung bisikleta niya na sinasakyan niya tuwing may kailangang bilihin sa medyo malayo o kung bibisitahin niya ang lola ko sa Paranaque. Kahit ngayon, madalas ko siyang naaabutan na kinukumpuni ang bisikleta niya, na minsan namamangha na nga ako kung ano pa bang kailangang ayusin dun dahil parang ayos na ayos na niya. Minsan, narinig ko silang nag-uusap ni Mommy at pabiro niyang sinabi na yung bisikleta niya ang tanging magiging kotse niya. Nalungkot ako dahil alam kong pangarap din sana ni Daddy na magka-kotse.

Dati, noong lumipat na kami ng bahay sa Las Pinas, yun din ang sinasakyan namin papunta sa school namin sa Paranaque. Yung kapatid ko nakaupo sa harap tapos ako sa likod. Naaalala ko pa din yung mga panahong natatakot ako kapag gumegewang ang bisikleta kasi baka dumausdos kaming tatlo sa kalsada. Pero hindi naman nangyari yun. Isa sa mga pinakanaalala kong mga moments yung tatlo kaming nasa bisikleta, malamig ang hangin at halos manigas na ang kamay ko sa pagkakapit sa upuan, at matingkad ang kulay ng langit at mga ulap dahil sa papalabas na ang araw. Masaya din pala noong panahong buo pa ang aming pamilya. Noong simple pa ang lahat.

Ngayon, hindi pa rin ako marunong mag-bisikleta. At sobrang inggit na inggit ako sa mga marurunong. Sinusundan ko talaga ng tingin yung mga nagbibisikleta minsan. Iniisip ko kung ano ba ang pakiramdam nila. Para bang tumatakbo? Para bang lumilipad? Ang sarap siguro maramdaman nung ganung feeling... Yung hangin tumatama sa mukha mo tapos ang free... Ngayon sa tricycle ko na lang sinusubukang maramdaman yun. Uupo ako sa likod ng driver tapos minsan talaga titingin ako sa langit habang mabilis ang takbo ng tricycle. O kaya naman sa mga Fairview bus na hindi aircon, lalo na kapag gabi o madaling araw. Halos ilabas ko na ang ulo ko sa bintana para lang maramdaman yung ganung feeling na mahangin at parang lumilipad...

Minsan naiisip ko na perpektong simbolismo sana yun ng buhay ko kung marunong lang ako mag-bisikleta. Yung malaya kang gumalaw. Yung mabilis at parang lumilipad. Naisip ko kung marunong lang ako, tatayo pa ako habang pumepedal. Tatalon pa sabay sigaw habang tumatakbo nang mabilis! At mag-eexhibition kagaya ng sa mga panaginip ko. Pero hindi ko natutunan yun eh. Hindi ko natutunang mag-balanse kaya isang pedal ko lang tumba na agad ako. Parang ngayon sa totoong buhay, hindi ako marunong mag-balanse ng mga dapat kong gawin at gusto kong gawin. Kung inayos ko lang ang buhay ko, siguro nabilihan ko na ang tatay ko ng kotse ngayon.

Naisip ko din kung mas magiging proud ba sa akin ang tatay ko kung natuto akong mag-bisikleta. Magbibike kaya kami side-by-side? Mas makakapag-father-and-son bonding kaya kami kung ganun? Pero wala eh. Naging nerd ako turned party animal. Naging bading pa. Kung hindi ako naging ganito, hindi kaya niya ako mapapalayas ng bahay kagaya nung ginawa niya dati? Hindi niya kaya ako bubugbugin at sisigawan? Naiisip kaya ng tatay ko yun habang kinukumpuni niya ang bisikleta niya na sana ang relasyon namin bilang mag-ama ang kinukumpuni niya?

May mga bagay na lumipas na at wala na tayong magagawa para baguhin pa ang mga iyon. Pero nasa puso ko pa rin ang pagnanais na sana, bago ako mamatay ay matutunan ko rin mag-bisikleta. Kahit na matanda na ako, sana dumating pa din yung panahon na malalapitan ko ang tatay ko at masasabing, "Daddy, pwede mo ba ako turuan mag-bike?"

What I Did Last Summer

It has been two years since I got off that tricycle to the Bulacan countryside. It really wasn't that rural an area, but for a city boy like me, wide swathes of grass, some chickens crossing the cracked concrete road with cows mooing in the distance, and the general derelict look of the simple houses spelled province for me.

I was standing by the gate of their village, and I saw him then walking towards me. It was only last night when we had this SMS row. He accidentally sent me a message meant for another guy. And although we weren't officially together, I felt I had the right to demand his faithfulness towards me. Despite the lameness of his excuses, I found myself conceding. Because no matter how I hid it from myself, I still liked him. Very much.

He reached me then, and I noticed how he couldn't quite look me in the eyes. At least he was ashamed of last night - that one goes in his favor. On hindsight, I realized I was always looking for things which would put him in a good light when all along I only wanted him to stay because it was his body I wanted. Or maybe it was his warmth when we were lying together. Was there really a difference?

He picked up one of my bags and we hailed a tricycle back to somewhere closer to civilization. And as I sat beside him, and his distinct man-smell reached me, I felt strangely complete. I leaned closer to him, to this guy who made me feel taken care of. To this guy who kept turning my world upside down and yet helped me put the pieces back again. We are going to start anew, I thought then. And I felt excited for the days ahead. I was bringing him home for the summer.

***

The soft yellow lights of the wall lamps of our living room were on, illuminating the soft smooth lines of his face and his body. We were sitting on the mattress of my bed which I pulled from my room, and he was crying on my shoulder. He was so scared, he said. His parents were always fighting. His violent father and his older brother were always beating him up because he was gay. There was always trouble in his house and at times, he said, he felt like going mad. I felt like crying myself and I hugged him so tight and tried to reassure him. I'm here, I told him. I may not be much but I'm going to do what I can. And he hugged me tighter, and in that I found an immense pleasure. Not only because I like to feel him so close to me but also because I felt like I was giving him something he had been looking for all this time. My father found us in the morning with our arms still entangled in each other.

***

We spent our summer days just whiling away the hours on my bed. He was shirtless most of the time, and I was pleased because he really was one of the guys who you'd prefer seeing undressed. We'd just tease each other on the bed, alternately tickling and wrestling, our pants mixed with our laughs. Exhausted, we'd just lie beside each other, staring at the ceiling and talking about our future plans together. And as I rested my head on his chest, listening to his heart beat fast, I wished I could have made that one moment last forever. I used to only read about such silly things in books before but hell, that was the only time I felt that myself.

One day, Mom told me that she and the rest of the family were leaving to visit my relatives. It was the first time I will be having the house to myself and my guy. And at the sound of the gate being closed, we wasted no time in taking each other's clothes off. We hurried up my room and we made love like I've never made love to any other before him. So this is what it really feels like, I thought to myself as he was lying on top of me, sweaty and intense. I found myself gasping his name over and over and my mind flew away and I got myself lost in him. Everything was him. I was so caught in that moment, never knowing that that will be the last time I'd ever do something like that again.

And that was how I got sick.

***

Weeks later, we were waiting on one of the benches in the University Infirmary. He had to pick me up at my dorm because I was so ill I couldn't leave by myself. I could barely walk. I felt like I was this pregnant girl being accompanied by her boyfriend, waiting for the doctor's announcement on my condition. My salary that time was delayed, and we had to wait there hungry and had to split between us the little money he had with him to buy something to eat. He may have done so many bad things to me but the fact that he was there with me when I needed him most seemed to erase all of those. We couldn't hold hands out in the open, but I know that if only we could he would have squeezed my hand to reassure me that everything was gonna be okay.

***

It has been two years since that summer and I find myself now sitting on the couch where we used to cuddle. Where he used to lay his head on my lap as a way for him to say sorry (he wasn't as eloquent as I am) and where I used to give him head. Where he used to give me a swift kiss just to calm me down because I was spitting mad at him. My friends told me I deserved someone better, and I agree. And yet the emptiness of this couch still reminds me of those days when once, I felt the warmth of the summer.

A Good Night

My feet were beginning to ache from walking around aimlessly at Gateway. And I was already running out of ideas on how to while away the seemingly indefinite waiting time. I've checked out the sleek and chic tops (perfect for work) at Memo, the amazingly skinny shorts (perfect for summer) at People are People, and the CD's (without any plans of buying) at Odyssey and still, he kept asking me to wait a little longer. Twice, I've thought of texting him that I'll be on my way home but then, since I already took the effort of getting there (and effort it was since I had to squeeze myself into the LRT), I might as well get on with it. Who knows, this date might just turn out to be great. For a change, I thought.

The week before that, I had this horrible first date with writer guy. I had to travel all the way to Pacita, only to be... horrified. From my skin, I can still faintly smell my dread of being physically and emotionally raped but then, this new guy seemed not as desperate. And he was much better looking besides.

Exhausted, I settled on an egg-shaped chair in the cinema waiting area, stretching my legs and getting sideways looks from the other gays who were thick as flies in that mall until he texted me that he was on his way. I went down the escalator and waited for him at the Foodcourt.

It was another thirty minutes until he came into my view. He was wearing a Thomasian black shirt, paired with nice-fitting jeans and loafers. He was more effeminate than I thought, but he fit his clothes well. His arms were well-shaped, and his face strangely familiar. He looked a lot like one of my ex's in person. He was a catch, all in all, and I found myself strangely conscious of my own body, and cursed the pimple protruding from my right eyebrow.

We had dinner, and we made some small talk. Although in truth, I did more listening than talking. I found out that he was a teacher also, and he went on about his teaching experiences, never asking me stuff about myself until the conversation begged for him to do so. It was okay, though. He was cute, and I loved how he playfully smashes his water bottle whenever I tease him about some small thing. He did not eat much because his belly was becoming larger, he said. He was obviously a health buff. And that did not bode well for the chances of him liking me.

The janitor was beginning to mop the floor and put up the chairs when we were done (he only ate half his food) and we decided on having some coffee. I loved how he was not afraid of touching my arm and leaning on me occasionally. I thought that those must be signs that he doesn't find me repulsive at the least.

I enjoyed listening to him talk more while I drank my caramel macchiato, and for once I wasn't smoking because he said he was allergic to cigarette smoke. He said I can smoke but I should stay 100 feet away from him (as if he was a gasoline truck). I said if I can wait for him for two hours, I could stand not smoking for the night. It was a trial though, and I really had to put my arms around my neck to resist lighting a stick.

Once, as his lips were sucking on the straw of his vanilla ice-blended, he gave me a lidded look and smiled (he has a really cute smile). I wasn't sure if he was trying to be provocative but I sure was provoked, and I found myself mesmerized (really I was) and I had to pull myself away from his stare. "What?" he asked teasingly. "Nothing," I said, hiding my smile in my cup. My, what a lucky guy I was that night.

After, he insisted on taking a walk because he said his tummy was so full he needed the walk to burn the fat. I chanced a feel at his tummy and I said he was overreacting. "Care for a donut?" I said as we passed by Krispy Kreme, and he pulled my arm and we playfully flirted right then and there in the open. I've never felt like that in a long while. That feeling of being with somebody who is not ashamed of expressing how he feels about you.

"So, where are we going?" he asked after minutes of walking around (for the second time for me, aimlessly) around Cubao and immediately I thought of taking him to a motel but I was too damned shy to say it out loud. "Where do you want to go?" I asked. "Anywhere is fine with me," he answered.

That must have been a go signal but I had to summon my courage until I led him in front of Eurotel. "Do you mind if we stay here for the night?" I asked. He said "Okay", with a touch of coyness I found endearing. "I was pointing at Chowking, not the hotel," I joked, and he patted me playfully on the arm. "Oh I hate you," he said.

All the time, I was waiting for hints that he really does not want to sleep with me (because really, it wasn't a fair trade) but when we were on the bed, he was the first one who pulled me to him. He was so strong I felt mildly manhandled, and then he paused and said "You're wearing something I'm not wearing."

"What is this, a pop quiz?" I joked. And I racked my brain for the answer. Was it a riddle? Was it a sex-related joke? Awkward minutes passed by with me sitting on top of him, still clueless on how to answer his question, until he took my hands and guided them to the answer. All I was able to say was, "Oh..."

He was good, I admit. Both in the obvious and in the emotional aspects of it, and I found myself trapped in my own head, wondering at how good and patient he was with me. And I felt first hand things I've only watched before.

Hours later, we were watching the motel TV, with him lying on my tummy. I was caressing his muscular back and his hand was stroking my thigh, and I once again, I thought if there was a chance we could be together. There were things I disliked about him, that was true, but he was so fun to be with. He was cute, and he was good! But that mature part of me reminded me not to be carried away, and it pointed out the sheer ease of how he did this whole thing. He was an expert at these things. And to be an expert, he must have had lots of practice.

He fell asleep first and I dimmed the lights because I saw his eyes squinting (yes I was watching him sleep because I'm romantic that way), and when I snuggled back beside him, his hand reached for me and he hugged me. I looked at his sleeping face for a few more moments and wondered at how I got him there with me at all. I've had terrible dates since this year began but looking at him there beside me made me think it was all worth it. This time, I won.

The phone rang and it was time for us to leave. He was so sleepy I felt guilty for dragging him into staying the night with me. With my help, he was able to sit on the bed, even though his eyes were still closed. The first thing I noticed was how disheveled his hair was, and so I took his comb and attempted to flatten his hair.

I was doing too much, I thought, and that was not good because that would indicate desperation. And once I've roused him enough, I settled on just waiting for him to get dressed, stealing looks at how perfect his chest was, reflected on the dresser's mirror. A last hug before we closed the door behind us, and off to the elevator we went.

The early morning air was fresh and clean, and I asked him if he would like to have some breakfast. "No," he said. "Coffee?" I asked. "No, you've done enough," he told me.

We reached EDSA and he told me to cross to the other side, but I insisted on waiting for him first to catch his northbound bus and he said okay since he took off his contacts and couldn't read the bus signs well. His bus came too soon and before he walked away, he turned around, smiled, and thanked me for my time. Somehow, I knew then that that was the last time I'll ever see him.

My mother was sweeping outside when I reached home. I looked fresh and clean, not the usual look she'd expect from someone who she thought spent the night drinking. She never asked questions though, and I went directly to my bed and noticed for the first time how my knees and elbows were beginning to get sore. I checked my phone, hoping he would text me that he got home safely but I had no new messages. I woke up in the afternoon, and still, no messages from him.

Another time, I would have moped about it. Another time, I would have wept at the idea of him not texting anymore. Another time, I would have been confused why he was so sweet and how we were okay together but in the end, he did not want to keep me. But my biggest emotion it turned out was awe at how I was learning to play this game. That sometimes, you just enjoy the moment and that's it. That things on the surface shouldn't always be given weight.

It may not have lasted but I'm okay, and perhaps it really was better that way. I had a good night, and that is that.

Electrique Finally Unveils Album #27: "Revelations"

Hello friends!

Yup, here I am again with a new compilation album (already my 27th!) and I am so happy that through the seven years of the official existence of Electrique Music, I was really finally able at last to hone my craft. The making of this album was one of the most difficult, since in the past months I've had so many album ideas and I couldn't settle on one. Not to mention the lack of inspiration since no tumultuous event has happened to me lately. But after talking to a couple of friends, I've finally decided to make a "love" album since it has been a while since I last talked about it. My past four albums had been quite heavy and serious on their themes, and I just had to lighten up the mood.

Over the many conversations I've had, it never fails to amuse me that many of my friends find that the relationship me and Rhay had (and how we are still friends now) was nothing short of spectacular, and that our story was a source of inspiration for them. And so, I've decided that what was "us" will be the theme of my next album. I do know that our unconventional love story, from a purely artistic view, was indeed awesome. And I thought that the time is ripe to further preserve our memories together before it becomes harder for us both to recall those good ol' times.

I am very happy with how this album turned out. It is very catchy. And I've never felt as proud to share my work as I've had with the well-received "Icarus". I took my cue from the sound of the latter album. I made it more fun and more accessible to my younger listeners. I have a very good plot going on in here, and after listening one will have a sense of that "feel good" vibe one has after watching a very good romantic movie.

"Revelations" is an indie pop album, and it features some great bands like Fun., Sparkadia, Atlas Genius, Kids of 88, Gypsy & the Cat, and more!

You can download this whole album (plus some poignant album art) through the link below.

Thank you for enjoying this album with me. I assure you, I have grown as a "mixtape artist". This will be one of the best-sounding albums you'll hear.

Have fun!

Click the link below:

http://www.4shared.com/rar/14Z0eh4E/Electrique_-_Revelations.html

Digri

Nanonood ako ng PACSiklaban noon. Nakaupo kasama ng mga audience habang pinapakilala ang mga judges na puro mga PhD. Napapa-wow ang mga tao habang binabanggit ang mga achievements ng mga hurado. Kung saan sila grumaduate ng PhD. Ang kanilang mga researches. Ang kanilang mga awards na natanggap. Talaga namang sila na talaga ang ilan sa pinakamahuhusay sa kapnayan sa bansa. Sila ang mga eksperto. At nasa audience lang akong nakatingin sa kanila. Humahanga at nangangarap.

Nagsimula na ang contest at habang kabado ako para sa mga estudyante ko ay may parte pa rin akong nakakaalala na minsan naging contestant din ako ng PACSiklaban. Manghang-mangha ako sa realization na iyon kasi galing na galing ako sa mga contestants. Minsan pala sa buhay ko, naging magaling din ako. Naging parte ako ng magaling na Team UP Diliman. Naging matalino. Para kasing hindi na ako iyong estudyanteng sumali sa contest pitong taon na ang nakakalipas. Para kasing sa sitwasyon ko ngayon, hindi ko na kayang maging matalino.

Nakita ko ang mga dati kong katrabaho sa UP Diliman na naging trainers para sa contest. Naramdaman ko ang pagka-iba ko. Na parang hindi na nga ako belong doon. Parang ang galing-galing nila dahil naipagpapatuloy pa nila ang pagkuha nila ng MS. Ako kasi, ano. Ako kasi napatalsik. Dropout. Bagsak. Wala akong nakuha.

Naisip ko din yung mga iba kong batchmates na kung tutuusin ay hindi kasing taas ng grades ko pero ngayon, sila na ag nag-pPhD abroad. Sila na ang well on their way towards success. Samantalang ako na nakakuha ng pinakamataas na GWA sa batch namin ay nasa Pilipinas pa din. Lumagapak at walang asenso. Walang pera at ari-ariang naipundar. Walang graduate degree. Pati respeto ng mga PhD's sa Chem, nawala din. Nasira na ang pangalan ko ng mga walang hiyang tsismoso't tsismosa ng IC. Wala na silang tiwala sa akin.

Aaminin ko na kahit sinasabi ko na ayos lang naman ako sa kinalalagyan ko ngayon, nasasaktan pa din ako sa lahat ng naganap. Kaya nga hindi pa rin ako makabalik sa IC Office. Ang sakit-sakit pa din kasi nang nangyari sa akin kahit na isang taon na ang nakalipas. Pakiramdam ko hindi ko maitatago ang sakit mula sa aking mga mata kapag nakita ko muli ang mga dati kong katrabaho doon.

Pero kahit na ganun, hindi ko pa din talaga masisi ang sarili ko kung bakit nga ba ako naging patapon. Para kasing yun lang talaga ang dapat kong mapuntahan. Marami kasi akong hindi natutunan agad noong mas bata pa ako kaya iyon muna ang binigyan ko ng atensyon. Pinakawalan ko ang ayos na sanang landas ko para patibayin muna ang aking mga pundasyon. At ngayon, napag-iiwanan na ako. Ang dating si Bryan na laging mataas ang marka, ang isa sa pinakamagagaling na estudyante ng premyadong UP Diliman ay ngayon ay nakabagsak na.

Hay. Ganyan talaga ang buhay. Ang mas weird nga eh may parte pa rin akong natutuwa dahil ag gusto ko sa lahat ay yung maganda yung story ng buhay ko. Kailangan ko nga siguro talagang magsimula muli sa ibaba para mas ma-appreciate ko ang aking pag-akyat.

Sa ngayon, mas nakikita ko na ang sarili ko din na kumuha ng PhD. Dahil kasi nag-Chem na rin naman ako eh, so why not maging mahusay na din talaga sa larangan ko di ba? At saka medyo nababagot na din ako at namimiss ko na din ulit ang mag-aral. Sana this time, mas gustuhin ko na talaga siya. Sana mas pag-igihan ko na. Kasi masaya naman talaga ang maraming alam.

Nabubuo na sa isip ko ang mga plano. Gusto ko na ding ipagpatuloy ang pag-aaral ko abroad. Ngayon ay nakukuha ko na ag motivation para umusad sa career ko. Kinailangan ko kasing i-motivate ang sarili ko dahil hindi ako na-motivate nang lubusan ng mga guro ko sa UP.

Sige, okay na ako. Nakapagpahinga na din. Panahon na para patunayan ko ulit ang galing ko. Panahon na para umakyat. Hays, pero this time around, kinakabahan na ako. Nawalan na din kasi ako ng tiwala sa sarili ko. Ang bobo ko na kasi ngayon.

Pero kakayanin ko 'to. Kakayanin. Papatunayan ko na kaya ko din talaga maging magaling. Ulit.

Kawalan

Tinanong ako ni Tsong. Sabi niya, "Ano meron?"

Sabi ko "Kawalan."

"Ha?"

"Kawalan. Ang meron ako ay kawalan."

***

Noong Pebrero ng isang taon, pabalik-balik ako mula sa UPLB at Diliman. Nagde-date pa kami noon ni Rockstar. Naalala ko pa ang tapang ko noon na makipagkilala sa kung sino-sino. Kung paano ako dumayo sa mga lugar na hindi ko man lang napuntahan before. Naalala ko pa ang tapang ko na makipag-text at manuyo ng mga lalaki na sa tingin ko ay gusto ko. Ang bilis ko mahulog 'nun sa kung sino-sino. Konting lapit. Konting paasa. Sasabihin ko agad, "Tsong heto na. This is it. This is the one true love for me."

Naalala ko pa yung mga panahong iyon. Yung mga gabing ilang lalaki ang kinikilala ko. Yung mga kung kani-kanino ako nakikipagpalitan ng laway. Kung sino-sino ang kayakap. Ang kakwentuhan. Ang kasabayan mag-yosi. Kung sino-sino ang kasama ko magkape. Mag-dinner. Mag-Timezone. Manood ng sine. Naaalala ko pa ang mga nangyari pero ang mga pangalan nila hindi na. Dahil yung iba, hindi ko naman na talaga naitanong ang pangalan.

Lumipas ang Valentine's Day nitong 2012 at buti na lang may mga bumati rin sa akin sa text (at hindi lang mga kaibigan). Pero kahit na malunod ako sa mga rosas at general na kapulahan at kalagkitan ng paligid ko noong araw na iyon, hindi ko pa rin na-miss masyado ang magkaroon ng karelasyon. Kasi pagod na ako. Kasi takot na ako.

Dati kaya ko pang manghabol. Dati kaya ko pang maghanap. Ngayon ayoko na. Masyado na akong mahina. Kahit na merong mga nagpaparamdam, ni mag-reply di ko na magawa. Pagod na ako. Meron naman diyan. Marami diyan na magpapa-alala sa iyo kung ano nga ba ulit ang pag-ibig. Pero wala, sira na ako eh. Ayoko na.

Pero minsan daratnan na lang ako ng gabi na dilat na dilat ang mata, nakatingin lang sa dilim ng kisame ng aking kwarto. Nanlalamig sa loob dahil sa kalungkutan. Naaalala ang mga panahong kapag may nakakasalubong akong mga tipo kong maging boyfriend ay halos dumausdos na ako papunta sa kanila. Pero kahit na dumarating ang mga panahon ng pangangailangan, napangungunahan pa rin ako ng takot. Ayoko na. Sapat na ang mga naranasan ko.

Kaya noong Valentine's Day ay hinalungkat ko na lang ang mga nakaraan ko. Marami-rami na rin kasi akong naranasan. At kahit na ngayong taon ay wala, balikan ko lang ang dati ay solved na solved na ako. Busog na busog sa mga makukulay na alaala ng mga nakalipas na Araw ng mga Puso.

Masaya na akong naglalakad pauwi nang nakita ko na naman ang lalaking taga sa amin na nais sanang magpakilala noong Christmas Break pero dineadma ko. As usual, bumagal na naman siya ng paglalakad para sabayan ako pero dineadma ko pa din siya. Pero bago ako pumasok ng gate namin ay nilingon ko siya at nginitian, na para bang gusto kong sabihin na "Dito ang bahay ko. Tandaan mo."

Pero hanggang doon na lang naman iyon.

Nakakalungkot na isiping tumanda ako nang paurong. Ngayon pa ako naduwag samantalang ang dami ko nang experiences. Ngayon pa ako napanghihinaan ng loob samantalang dapat ay mas sanay na ako sa kalakalan ng mga puso. Pero ganun talaga eh. Oo, malungkot minsan. Pero kasi, kahit sarili ko hindi ko na rin matulungang buksan muli ang pinto ng pag-ibig.

Ok na siguro muna 'to. Sa ngayon, makukuntento muna ako sa kawalan.

EDSA, 11:54pm

Ilang beses na rin akong nag-attempt na magsulat muli. Ilang beses na akong nakatunganga lang sa puting screen ng "New Post" habang pinagmamasdan ang pag-blink ng linyang magsisimula sana ng aking mga pangungusap. Sinusubukan kong ayusin ang mga nararamdaman ko tuwing dumarating ang mga panahong kinakailangan kong sumulat pero nitong mga huling araw, parang scrambled sila palagi. Parag hindi ko sila ma-define. Ang alam ko lang na sigurado ako ay nalulungkot na din ulit ako paminsan-minsan. Tapos kapag inaalam ko kung bakit nga ba ako malungkot ay naguguluhan na naman ako.

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Bakit ba kasi medyo gwapo ka pa? Sana pumangit ka na lang nang kaunti. Para naman maisip mo na hindi ka lugi sa akin. Para tantanan ka na ng iba. Para maisip mo na may chance naman tayo talaga kung lahat man ng pro's and con's ay inilapat natin sa papel at kinuwenta.

Para pwede tayong mag-motel tapos yayakapin lang kita. Lalagay mo ulo mo sa balikat ko tapos hahawakan lang kita hanggang makatulog ka. Tapos pipikit lang ako kasi masaya na ako nang ganun. Kahit hindi mo ako mahal, pwede na din. Narealize ko kasi na ang mas namimiss ko ay ang magmahal at hindi ang mahalin. Naramdaman ko na yun eh. Ang hindi ko pa nararamdaman sa mahabang panahon ay ang magmahal muli.

Sana pwede yon. Sana mas pangit ka na lang. Para hindi mo isipin na kaya kita gusto ay dahil sa itsura mo. Well, totoo naman na type kita. Pero mas type kita dahil sa ibang aspeto ng buhay mo. Mas type kita dahil sa pagkatao mo. Siguro ikaw may nakilala ka nang iba na mas swak sa ugali mo. Hindi ko na naitanong yun sa iyo. Pero sa akin, ikaw lang talaga yun. Sa dinami-dami ng mga nakasalamuha kong mga lalaki, ikaw lang yung umabot sa ganung level. Ako lang ba nakaramdam nung ligaya na yun habang nasa ilalim tayo ng dilaw na ilaw at magkaharap? Nung gabi na iyon, nung tinatanong mo ako kung ano ang nararamdaman ko at hindi ako makasagot?

Kung mas pangit ka lang nang kaunti e di baka tayo na. Baka lumipad na tayo together. Baka kung ano-ano na ang mga nagawa nating mga proyekto. Sana sabay tayong nag-grow. Sana sabay nating tinuklas ang mga bagay na gusto pa nating maranasan.

Sana na lang kasi hindi mo na lang ako pina-fall eh. Kahit na sinabi mo na ganun ka talaga at masama ka in that way, at sinabi ko naman na hindi ko gagawin yun, sana nalaman mo din na malamang yun lang ang sasabihin ko. Kaya ko nga sinabi yun kasi nag-fall na ako eh. I try to be as honest as I possibly can pero sa iyo nagsinungaling ako. Kaya kong itago sa iyo pero hindi sa sarili ko.

May gagawin pa sana tayong kwento di ba? Yung bida (na parang ako) ay magkrukrus ng landas sa medyo kontrabida (na parang ikaw). Tapos gagawa sila ng kwento tungkol sa paggawa ng kwento. Kaso yun pala tinapos mo na ang kwento bago pa man natin ito masimulan. May nangyari naman pero hindi pala ito kwento para sa iyo. Akala ko simula na eh. Yun pala scratch mo lang ako. Sinulat, tapos napangitan ka. Kaya nilukot mo ang papel at itinapon.

Hindi naman ako naglulupasay sa lungkot dahil sa iyo. Masyado na akong matanda para dun. Pero alam mo, mananatiling special sa akin ang pangalan mo. Hindi ko na kailangang ipaliwanag kung bakit.

Huli tayong nagkita sa bus station. Sa EDSA Ayala. Hinihintay mo ako makasakay ng bus. Tapos parang tanga lang ako. Aligaga kasi iba talaga pakiramdam ko kapag kasama kita. Pero siyempre, cool and collected on the outside. Tapos pinag-usapan natin na kapag naliligaw tayo minsan sa Maynila, basta hanapin lang natin ang EDSA ay alam na natin kung nasaan na tayo. Alam na natin kung saan tayo pupunta. Tapos iyon, pagkasakay ko ng bus, narealize ko na hindi pala tayo pareho nang pupuntahan.

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Ang pangit ng blog ko na ito 'no? Hindi buo. Parang kulang sa damdamin. Kasi siguro nasa sa iyo pa yung ibang parte ng puso ko kaya hayun... Kaya ganito.

Sana balang-araw, mabuo ko ulit ang puso ko. Kasi nakakalungkot din pala kapag marami ka nang minahal.