The Dance (October 29, 2013)

Here we go again. The dance.

You take my hand and I let you take the lead. We move our feet to a familiar beat and I find myself slowly slipping. You do your signature, the strut that’s so fascinating, and I’m reeling myself to get it together.

No, not again.

You twirl me and twirl me and transition to samba, but my tired feet longs only for the waltz. You twirl me and twirl me, but I am out of breath and I start to slow down. Still you twirl me again and again. But as momentum builds up, you let me go and I fall flat on the floor. Again. Like how it always ends.

As I struggle to pick myself up and stand again, I find you no longer there. You have no use for me any longer so you move on to find another partner. Alone with a hollow chest and shaking knees, I again am left with nothing but the memory of the dance I know so well.

Sighs & Syllables: A Haiku Collection

When Love Arrives (by Sarah Kay & Phil Kaye)

"Maybe love stays. Maybe love can’t. Maybe love shouldn’t. Maybe love arrives exactly when love is supposed to. And love leaves when love must. When love arrives, say, ‘Welcome. Make yourself comfortable’. If love leaves, ask her to leave the door open behind her, turn off the music, listen to the quiet, whisper, ‘Thank you for stopping by.’"

I Wonder

Will I ever hear
the sweet words of a love song
whispered in my ear?

If You Forget Me (by Pablo Neruda, read by Madonna)

I want you to know

one thing.

You know how this is:

if I look

at the crystal moon, at the red branch

of the slow autumn at my window,

if I touch

near the fire

the impalpable ash

or the wrinkled body of the log,

everything carries me to you,

as if everything that exists,

aromas, light, metals,

were little boats

that sail

toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,

if little by little you stop loving me

I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly

you forget me

do not look for me,

for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,

the wind of banners

that passes through my life,

and you decide

to leave me at the shore

of the heart where I have roots,

remember

that on that day,

at that hour,

I shall lift my arms

and my roots will set off

to seek another land.

But

if each day,

each hour,

you feel that you are destined for me

with implacable sweetness,

if each day a flower

climbs up to your lips to seek me,

ah my love, ah my own,

in me all that fire is repeated,

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

my love feeds on your love, beloved,

and as long as you live it will be in your arms

without leaving mine.

Musings of a Hopeless Romantic

On February 24, 2011, I wrote a little something out of boredom. Rediscovering it was such a delight that I'm sharing it here.

Photo taken from  http://weheartit.com/entry/6289779

This is where we’ll meet: in a library or a bookshop. I come in out of curiosity, you for whatever it is you think is a good reason to come in. We find ourselves in the same aisle, and I'm holding a classic I wish I’ve read. You notice me tearing up as I flip the pages, and you think it’s cute that I be so engrossed to such a little book. You don’t know that it’s actually my allergy acting up. I notice you looking at me and so I smile. You’re caught off guard, yet you manage to smile back. You ask me what book I'm reading and I tell you the title. You tell me your thoughts about me crying over a book, and I tell you about my allergy. We laugh about it and that’s when we finally exchange names. Yes, this is how I want to meet you.

A Morning in the Opera

The magic of the stage is felt when you are transported from your seat to the scene it portrays. With the right set, song, and actors, that isn't so hard to do. The first time I saw the Phantom of the Opera was almost ten years ago, done by the juniors from my school. Their set wasn't at all great. They were mostly cardboards and curtains--it was a high school production after all. It wasn't anything like the elaborate spectacle that it was supposed to be, but when the music started playing, I was hooked. When the title song came on, I was on the edge of my seat, and I knew then that I've fallen in love.

Since then, The Phantom of the Opera has become one of my favorite musicals (and stories). I've been obsessing over Erik, Christine, and Raoul (yes, there was a time I liked Raoul) for years. I've read Erik's back story, and the "official" sequel to the original novel. I've spent hours listening to the recordings of Phantom and Love Never Dies. I've even watched Joel Schumacher's film adaptation countless times. So when I finally found a way to secure a copy of the 25th anniversary concert, I was all giddy with excitement. I've decided, as a treat to myself for Easter, to enjoy The Phantom of the Opera in the Royal Albert Hall in spite of all the work that's waiting.

So before I go on with my date with the Phantom, let me share a little bit of the experience. The video above is from the 25th anniversary concert, and it stars Sierra Boggess and Ramin Karimloo. The same actors who originated the same roles for Love Never Dies. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an Easter morning to enjoy.

Happy Easter!

The Forever Alone Conjecture

My circle of friends is composed of fifteen equally amazing and gifted individuals. All fifteen are lovely in their own right. However, 73.33% of the said population is currently single; 60% have never been in a relationship; 26.67% have never been romantically involved with anyone, living, dead, or otherwise. Makes you wonder doesn't it? The statistics show that our group isn't performing well in the romance department. Shocking? Barely.

It has been scientifically proven that people are intimidated with people who belong in a large, closely-knit group. More so if the group is comprised of members with strong personalities. They not only have to prove themselves to the person they are interested in, but also to his/her peers. This makes it exhausting and even irksome for any interested party. This alone can be accounted for the lack of good performance by the group in terms of romance and intimacy.

Another theory that supports the data presented is the "My Friends Over You" Rule. Any person seeking for a serious relationship is usually opposed to this rule, save for special cases such as when both parties belong to the same group of friends thus making the rule redundant. Since 46.67% of the population practices the said rule, other people then feels discouraged to make any advances.

We now live in a modern age where most people would do away with customs and traditions. More and more people turn to technology to find a match, and the group's hesitation to resort to this method contributes to the data gathered as well. Although some don't mind meeting people online or through texting, a whopping 73.33% prefer to meet someone traditionally. Although not all the singles share this idea, it is interesting to note that the percentage of those who prefer the traditional method matches that of the singles of the group. This traditional mindset narrows down the chances of meeting more people and basically limits the group to people within their immediate environment and their relations.

In conclusion, the group is faced with the statistics presented because of the mutual attachment of the members to the group and their traditional ideals. Also, it is not to be blamed solely on group dynamics. The individual factor is yet to be considered. Most members have set standards that are deemed high by the general public. The members of the group are idealistic in nature and has romantic notions that prevent them from settling to anything below their standards. With this in mind, along with all the supporting theories presented, the high singles percentage of the group is explained. This is why we are all Forever Alone. Together. :)

Boy, Do I Think Too Much Before Sleeping!

Lying on my bed, waiting for sweet slumber to take over, I find myself thinking about my friend's dilemma. Talking about her boy trouble was the last conversation I had before I decided to hit the sack.

Just lately, my girl friends were having boy troubles, and trying to help them somehow feels like directing a drama written in a language I don't understand. I feel like I know how it should go, but in reality, I simply have no idea! I haven't had much experience in terms of the heart, and my feeble wisdom on the subject comes mostly from the fiction I read. I'm a novice trying to coach a team in the big league.

"I'm married to my friends", that's what we always say. We are a tight group of friends who claim that we are enough for each other, but I know that time will come when we would finally open our doors to other people for a more intimate commitment. And although our bond would remain intact, our little group would probably have to take a back seat for some. I know this and I've prepared myself for it. It might get to the ones left behind, but we'll surely come to terms with it. My friends mean so much to me and I won't take it against them because I don't want to hold them back. That's why even with my lack of experience and the prospect of that inevitable-but-a-little-unwanted future, I try to help out with their problems of the heart.

I really want things to get better for them. I want them to experience something that I feel is long overdue for people as lovely and amazing as my soul siblings. I want them to feel how it is to love and be loved, and maybe how it is to get your heart broken too. I want them to realize how they deserve nothing but the best, and that compromising is never an option. I want them to feel the rush of a budding love affair and taste the bittersweet fruit that's out of my reach.

I'm not gonna pretend that I'm not hoping to hitch a ride on the love train, but right now it's my best friends' turn to get on. And although I'll still be stuck at the station waiting, I want to make sure that they enjoy the ride and get off at the next stop in one piece. So whether they ask for it or not, I'll be here to share my honest opinion and point out their blind spots. I'll be here to cheer them on when they need it or give them a good smacking when they let things get out of control, because that's what friends do. And no matter where I am or what I'm doing, they can always count on me to be one.

Perfect

I'm 21 years old, though at times I look like 12 (or 34). I'm only five feet three inches tall (or short), just like Jessica Simpson. Yes, Jessica Simpson, and no, I don't know why I had to put her in. I have the frame that Anorexics and Bulimics are trying so hard to achieve. About 85 % of the people I have talked to on the phone mistook me for the opposite sex. I have a forehead that's the size of the moon and a neck that's at par with a giraffe's. I am in love with music even though I sing like a strangled cow. I appreciate boring movies and I cry even at the most inappropriate scenes. I'm corny, sappy, and dramatic. I hate mess but I'm too lazy to be organized. I'm smart but not so much. I have a good memory, but it only works on things that don't matter. I could go on, but I'd rather stop.

I am not perfect and, yes, I'm not even close. But I'm hoping that someday I'd meet someone who I would be perfect for and would be perfect for me. And when that time comes, no matter how crazy the world would be, I know everything would turn out to be perfect. Just wait and see.

The Lucky One

One is an odd number. But is it really?

In grade school, we're taught about the two types of numbers: Odd and Even. Even numbers are named the way they are because they come in pairs. If you divide them into two, the numbers would come out evenly. Odd numbers, on the other hand, can't be divided into two evenly. There would always be one that wouldn't have a pair or counterpart. An odd one. Hence the name.

But what's so special about having a pair, anyway? Sure, it gets lonely when you're all on your own, but I don't see why it's odd to be a One. I mean, I'm a One. And I don't see myself as odd. I see myself as special.

The world wants you to believe that you can't live by yourself. That no man is an island. Well, I say that's true. That's what family and friends are for. To keep us company and make us feel safe. They surround us so that we won't be lonely. But the world also wants you to believe that you need to have a pair, a partner in life, to feel complete. That every man is a half of a whole. And to that I say, bullcrap.

Of course, we all want to have our share of a happy ever after with someone special. I know I do. But not everyone will be lucky enough to get it. Not everyone gets a slice of the cake. For some people, its just not gonna happen. Sad? Of course, it is. But it doesn't always have to be. Having a partner is just a minute part of your being, after all. An accessory if you may. Having a pair is not what makes you whole, its love. And if somehow you're not lucky enough to find a special someone, then divert your attention and offer your love to someone who may need it more. Yourself.

People look for partners in life thinking that the other person would complete them. But that's a misconception. People look for partners because they think they couldn't go on living alone. They couldn't picture themselves being happy with themselves. Loving their own imperfections. So they go out to the world, in search of someone who feels the same. Throwing themselves at practically every cute stranger they'd meet hoping he or she is the one. Or maybe even resort to very desperate measures just to find someone to spend the rest of their lives with. Possibly settling for some loser who isn't even worth half the love they're so willing to give out. And the love they could've given to themselves? They hand it over to their "other half" in hopes of having their feelings reciprocated. Believing that this possibly-a-big-mistake relationship would finally make them feel complete.

You see, a partner is not what makes a person complete. It's the love you have inside of you. So what if you're single? Be patient, your time may come sooner than you expect. And if not, well it always pays to have family and friends to keep you company. Never settle for just about anybody who may seem to care but doesn't. Never compromise. You know you deserve better. And if you're one of the "unlucky" ones, well think again. You may be luckier than most. The single old woman with all the cats is happier than the married man with a cheating wife and kids he isn't even sure is his, you know.

Being single doesn't mean you'd end up being unhappy too. Maybe it just isn't meant to be. Or maybe you just haven't met the right one yet. Maybe your love story is still in the works. Just be patient. I'm not gonna claim that I'm an expert at love since I've practically been single all my life. I can, however, say that I'm very good at being single. And right now, you just have to concentrate on the one that needs your love the most. Concentrate on yourself. Don't just lie around and wait for your prince or princess to come along. So that whatever may happen in the end, may he or she show up or not, you'll know you haven't wasted your time and love on something worthless. You'll know you did the right thing.

One may seem like an odd number, but it isn't. It's special. Because although it hopes to find a pair, it can stand on its own. It can rise. It can shine. So all the Ones out there, be strong. Stand firm. Don't ever believe that you're worthless because you don't have pair. You're so much more than just somebody's partner. You are not a fraction of a whole; you are a whole in yourself.

Sure, it takes two to tango. But dancing with yourself isn't so bad.

Goodnight My Someone (July 4, 2007)

As I drink my coffee in the dark corner of the room, I can't help but entertain a recurring thought. You.

You've always been on my mind and I don't know why. We haven't spoken, haven't touched, haven't kissed. We haven't even met yet! But I just can't stop thinking about you. About how I know I'll never get to meet you. I've talked to some of my friends about this and they seemed to agree when I told them how sad it'd be to not ever be able to meet you. To not ever be able to see your face, hold your hand, or dance with you in the rain. I really don't know why but I just know you won't be there. You won't be there to wake me up in the morning & greet me with a loving smile on your face. You won't be there to calm me down when I can't take all the pressures in life. You won't be there to kiss me goodnight & wish me sweet dreams. You won't be there to hold my wrinkly hand as we grow old. I know it's weird to be writing to you when I firmly believe that I'm never gonna see you. I don't know. Maybe I'm doing this because despite my certainty of not being able to meet you, I'm hoping. Hoping that one day you'd prove me wrong. Hoping that with one crazy twist of fate, you'll find me (or I you).

Maybe we won't be able to meet.

Maybe you won't be able to read this.

Maybe you don't even exist.

But I'm hoping.