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Tuesday, October 23, 2012

The Half-day Boyfriend Story

This morning, as I was looking for a not-very-important something around 10 o'clock in our house, I was surprised to see my old notes, exam papers and personal notes still compiled and kept in a pink portfolio or whatsoever envelope-like thing. It contains my test papers since my first grade in my elementary years and some of my grade-school notes which I find disgusting-- the handwriting, the grammar and the way it is expressed. It's funny and I realized that I am now far from what I am before (well, in those stated aspects only). Yet what greatly caught my attention was a journal of mine, comprising a number of handwritten, personally made poems and stories. The first story was entitled "My Half-day Boyfriend" (chuckles) and it goes like this:

My Half-day Boyfriend

Is it really lucky to be in love with your best friend? I guess it's not especially when he or she is not feeling the same way...

On that remarkable day, I stood by the entrance, dumb and expectant, waiting for him to come. Several minutes passes and I felt approaching footsteps. He came carrying a bag filled with some snacks and drinks. We went inside the resort, paid the reasonable fees and settled on the cottage there. We, then started conversing, eating and laughing.

This is me, Megan. Call me Meg for short. I'm a third year engineering student who grew up from a VERY broken family. I used to play cars and guns back when I was a child. In many ways, I act like a guy, dress not like a girl. I didn't have that beauty yet some says I have the brains. So what's with those? Just an introduction.  The real story begins back when I was still a freshman. I was exceedingly happy away from home, studying hard and adjusting independently. Being naturally affable, I got friends right away. And he's just one of my normally-treated classmates until we get to know each other through texting.

He's Rai. The name was a contraction of his given name Raikiel-- a lad of low voice (low and big for his appearance). He's an athletic one with expressive eyes and as time passes by, we became friends-- notably, the first closest guy I had, whom I can tell my deepest secrets; share my deepest problems; ask useful advices and talk about my limited crushes. We were unprecedented that we are close-- that I'm always the first to know his secrets. And when I ask him why, he said he feels comfty talking to me and furthermore, never gets bored. (Flattering!) He updates me of his lovelife and I give notions for it (though I'm an NBSB). During weekends, semestral breaks and vacations we used to talk, sometimes till morning the next day, through phone. Our stories seem to be never-ending. But when dull moments come, he'll request a song  from me and in equity, I'll also make him sing.

Long before, I heard someone said that being best-friends with the opposite gender is unreal. Why? Because truly, one of them furtively falls in love with the other. good enough for me I have stopped myself. I insisted that it's only in the mind and the word "love" would never be in my vocabulary... that's what I promised to myself. so we're the best of friends.

In the resort, we ate, we laugh...we drank together. The morning had been fine, but the air was growing moist, the coming rain was telegraphed by the plump, grey clouds and the blue sky was fast fading. As we go on, tears suddenly filled my eyes. hatred and bitterness had preyed upon me spontaneously for months and it just burst out. So he spoke to me with words of comfort yet I can't fully grasp them as if I don;t hear a thing. He then drew near to me, fitted his left hand on my right. His other hand held my face with his thumb wiping my tears. I felt a sudden numbness, then a cringe inside of me.. I didn't care if somebody looks at me...on us. He continued to give me words of optimism but I was really not of myself. Multidinous patches of drizzling rain came with occasional gust of wind that failed to motivate some tress to sway. Of deep languor, I fell asleep...my head leaning on his shoulder and his arms around me. Almost an hour has passed before I woke up. Embarrassed as I realized my position, I sit back properly while he offered me water to drink. He maybe saw me shivered a little so he covered me with his towel. I just then settled for a while into a stillness of myself.

There was a moment of weird silence then he hugged me tightly telling me that everything will be alright. The surrounding were becoming warm and sultry again when he pulled me towards the pool. We played and surely enjoyed the water which somehow awakened my motion and set it free... Tired and happy and hungry, we went back to the cottage a and ate some snacks. 
I will never forget the gane we played back then.. the "staring" game. Well, we'll just have yo stare at each other and the first to blink his/her eyes will lose and will be subjected to drink or the command of the winner. I don't know why but I can't stand his gaze. Everytime he looks at me, straightforwardly, my heart intermittently drops off to my feet, my knees tremble. When he draws nearer, some positively and negatively particles collide inside me and travel through my every arteries and veins and so I close my eyes involuntarily  The feeling was different from excitement neither from happiness. no words can equate to that moment. Expectedly, I lose in the game. And the consequence? To kiss him in the cheeks.

Though I never wanted, that day ended. All the sun's warmth left the air. In the deepening twilight, we began to pack our things. I was obviously making my movement slow to extend that time that we were together because I knew that it will never happen again. "Nobody shall know this, ok?" He said in whisper... Silence was regained then I just nodded. the air was definitely cold, the light had died out of the atmosphere when at last we turned our faces homeward. "Rai," I uttered.. "Meg," he butted in, not hearing me "I'm going to meet Laysa tomorrow, what color do you think suits me the best? I want to look at my nicest" He said while smiling. I waited for a minute, seeming to get those words straight to my mind. By the way Laysa was the girl who rejects him a numerous times yet he still pursues. The sad truth bursts inside of me-- I felt there a visible wall between us. I almost forgot that I am his best friend. And forever we will be...
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.the end... Well the feeling? I can't remember why or how or when did I wrote this. Love. Love. Love. False alarm!!! hahahaha.. I can't help but laugh because honestly I am Meg in the story and Rai is my ex-bestfrriend. He's just a friend now. (grins)The story? It was somehow true.. Some scene was exaggerated and some were invented, maybe to make the story quite interesting. Oh moods.. Moods and feelings, great that I can write them up.. ^_^

Monday, October 22, 2012

A Poem

Is this what you call emo???
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Thinking it over again-- how did I come up with this poem and with its weird unusual title, together with some edited picture of mine in its monochrome state-- I came to realize that I was just a normal human being.. with feelings. And just like many fems out there, those feelings (or should I call it "moods") are changing, maybe not from time to time but in an unexpected period of time.
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Well, being emotional has become pessimistic in name. The word itself was coupled with sadness and it is even associated with the word "suicide". the word has also its color-- black. It's somehow funny thinking that not all emotions are gloomy, detrimental or simply negative.. Emotions, feelings or mood has its swings...meaning it has its ups and downs and has its positive side. those can be gladness, excitement, zeal, love, gratitude, sympathy and many more. 
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On the other hand, these emotions are meant to be conveyed which in turn become expressions. They are expressed in many forms-- eating, walking, staying alone at room, painting or sketching and probably writing. In writing, emotions are voiced out by words, words that correspond to the feeling that is often hard to express. By writing, words are having thickness and even faces. By writing, emotions are being put into words with life. Feelings are divulged whom you can review in some point in time bringing you another feeling-- it might make you laugh, wonder, think or learn. Like that one at the top, the image with the poem entitled "Sepulchre"..It's up to you to look up the meaning of that word. 
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Ok, that poem together with the image, was indeed a cynical one. Surely, some other time. or maybe tomorrow, I'll write and post about OBVIOUSly HAPPY things.