words full of holes

writingsforwinter:

if i write about things i don’t know,

would you still love me?

every poem about us

is covered with holes,

because i ripped it out of a notebook

that was already too full of words.

The Silence

In silence we all came to be. During those most critical 9 months, the only sound that existed was the beating of our tiny heart that echoed that of our mother’s. But as we grow older, we somehow lose track of the silence and get so caught up in the hustle and bustle of life. We lose track of serenity – its meaning and its friendship.

As I child we learned that crying out loud would give us comfort in some sort of way. It may be in the simple form of food, lullabies or just a clean diaper, but it made us happy. While growing up, we learned the language of communication. It is a means of expressing feelings and thoughts and opening up to others, to question, and plainly to convey ourselves.

People can never go a day without talking. You can’t have your regular coffee in the morning without telling the cashier your order. You can’t go to your destination without telling the cab driver where you’re going. You can’t pass out a chance to have a chat with your friends when you meet them before classes or with your co-workers during coffee break. One way or another, I guess talking is just a necessity in life.

For a normal person it may be true that the need to talk is incessant, but for some, it is normal to avoid any form of conversation, pleasant or not – someone like me. In class, whether or not I listened to my instructors, I preferred to just sit in my desk and have the freedom to look outside the window and just make doodles in my notebook. Although I liked doing declamations because it portrayed made up characters, I believed that reporting is the worst form of evaluation that students are asked to do. I hated speaking in front of people who doesn’t even listen or just listen for the sake of asking stupid questions to impress the instructor. But what I hated more than reporting is group reporting. Those instances where you will set a meeting time and three out of five group members will come late and two others will make up some lame excuse about not being able to make it. And when you start brainstorming, the majority of the group will come up with some idiotic idea that you could no longer contest because you are outnumbered. However, when you’re in college, you can’t help but do reporting and group reporting, otherwise you will fail.

But that misfortune is limited to the walls of the academe. I always took long walks alone before going home, with my earphones plugged, and just stare – stare at the busy people all over the place, the grass creeping its way to invade the pavement, discolored concrete starting to weather, remarkable flowers that came from typical greenery, and just everything that my vision could reach. And when I get home, I’d bury my nose in a book and enclose myself in a make believe world, oblivious of the people around me.

That is who I was. I guess society learned to accept that the silence and I shared a bond, or more probably, they just didn’t give a damn. Then one day he came. He discovered everything about me – everything I refused to give out to just anyone or everyone. He learned to share my silence, and that was the moment I realized, because people often say that the two people who can sit next to each other without uttering a single word, and are still happy are those who are truly in love.

Through the years I have become accustomed to his company, and eventually associated him with the silence, until the silence was replaced by him. One day, he left and I was alone. With all the thoughts and emotions running through my mind, the silence became a ghost haunting me wherever I went. It jogged my mind of every memory that I vowed to forget. The silence unveiled torturing pain that I could not escape, not even in my dreams.

But I realized that silence was never an enemy of mine. One day silence came to me and greeted me with comfort. It reminded me of everything else that was left – my friends, family, and most of all the life that was graciously given to me. I may have been abandoned, but sometimes there are more important things. The silence taught me to get a hold of my emotions and just think things through no matter how rough it gets.

Sometimes we just have to look around, take a deep breath and feel the sun in our faces, because we might miss out on what is more important because of our vain babblings and disentangled heart. So a point of advice, embrace the silence while you can.

No Permanence Guaranteed

Almost everyone has probably experienced going to a shopping mall and buying clothes, shoes, furniture, appliances or any of the sort. They come with an idea in their head about the thing they want to buy and they scrutinize all the possible choices until they find what they think is the best – the closest representation of what they imagined. However, more often than not, they find out it is not exactly what they thought it would be or it gets busted sooner than it was supposed to. They just end up frustrated, because once something is bought, it usually can not be returned or exchanged.

Sometimes love is like going shopping. You have this idea of the perfect person in your mind, and you go by this criteria in choosing who you want to be with. But sometimes you can’t find anyone exactly like what you idealized, so you follow your heart. You find happiness in love so you try real hard to keep it as long as you can, simply because everyone wants to be happy.

Then one day, for the unfortunate many, that love may just end without any warning. A love that is lost can hurt like being stabbed over and over. And the worst part is that no matter how painful it gets, you cannot die. You will just wake up every morning bearing the pain that gets heavier no matter how much tears you let out.

No matter how hard you try or how much effort and time you give, some promises are just not fulfilled. No matter how long the time you’ve spent together, or how much memories you’ve shared, some bonds just cannot last forever. Sometimes embraces do not mean anything, and plans are not assurance to forever. Maybe that is just one of the mysteries of love. You’ll never really know who you will fall for, and you will never know how long it may endure. So you might just enjoy it while it lasts, because despite all selfless endeavors, love never comes with a permanence tag.

Will You Ever Learn?

People always said that trust is like paper, once it has been crumpled, it can never be returned to the way it was before. Whoever said that is totally wrong because if you actually think about it, paper came from serrated tree barks. If those can be turned into spotless white smooth paper, then removing crease would be no tough task. Just the same, broken trust can be mended to the way it was before. The only obstacle is the willingness of the person to do so.

My friends reprimanded me a million times about believing too easily. I did not want to take it as being gullible, even if it maybe. I just didn’t like the idea of being paranoid about what people are saying to me. It’s like thinking every once in a while that the person I’m talking to is a bad person trying to place insincere words in my head, which to me is absurd. Why would anyone want to lie to me about anything on purpose???

He was the only person whom I trusted with every secret I had in my life, but he turned out to be such a good liar. I never quite understood actually why he had to do that. He knew that he never had to lie because despite my getting mad at him, I always forgave him almost immediately. Giving second chances is just inherent because it is in our nature to make mistakes. But he still did the same thing time and again. Eventually I thought that maybe I have had enough. He could never change even if everything we had depended on it. Still, I forgave him anyway. And whatever he said, I believed without question, like he never lied in his life.

It is not true that I never learned that’s why I keep on giving him another chance, because I did. I learned that kisses hold no assurance of tomorrow, love gives you faith, and that lies, even if they hurt, make you stronger. Because only the strong, though already bruised and broken, can swallow their pride and take another leap of faith to face the fear of uncertainty in love.

It doesn’t really matter if his lies were as countless as the sand in an ocean, or if he has relentlessly proven his disloyalty. Love does not have to be reciprocated for it to exist. It can subsist on its own, without any associated terms and conditions. Why should I limit my second chances to second, third or even fourth chances? I love him, and I guess that’s enough reason to give him limitless chances for whatever mistake.

If one day you happen to come across a creased blank paper, don’t throw it away because no matter how crumpled it may be, it will always be good for something.