a family thing

I wanna write. I really do. And after watching a movie like "eternal sunshine of the spotless mind", I can't help but think there really is a lot more to writing than I think I ever really, knowingly, and honestly can handle.

I put words to such shame, but actually it's mostly mine involuntarily imparted. Perhaps I try too hard to make it all out into some intelligible jumble of words that, with enough adjectives, might come off as sweet and romantic. But in the end, all I really end up is a long grieved sigh, hardly at par with anything salable off a bookshelf.

This is a writing fixation, if this urge of mine was a condition. This romance with words and phrases could simply be my prolonged attempt to find someone who understands. Someone silly enough to wade through all this syntax and plow through my metaphors. I may be the lexical equivalent of Rapunzel: my life as my tower and my words the trailing length of hair secretly calling for help.

It's a family thing. We never really say we love each other, though we do. It's a pretty disdainful habit we've acquired, to keep those 3 words in the same place we keep "Take care" and "Good luck". They've become trailing statements, open-ended sentiments that hardly deserve eye-contact or an emotional sparkle.

But we do tell each other we love each other. This strange familial wall of pride isn't as solid and cold as I'd like to embellish it. I noticed it at first whenever my parents took me to class. Whatever time or place my first schedule would be, as far as Quezon City or as early as a sunshine-free morning, they never said they couldn't. And if they did, it wasn't immediately. They'd meticulously check each and every possible plan to make it all work out. Make it all work out for me.

And I found it there. A hidden kind of love that throbs and warms up our home discreetly, like the safety net that was there all along, warm socks I've always taken for granted.

And they taught me that. To love a love so silent. To let my heart whisper to other hearts quietly, as I walk past you along the hallway, as I help you out with your code, as I invite you for a game of badminton.

And if you do find out, put them all together and learn what I've felt and I've waited for all along, that'd make it all the more special. Just like in the movies.

to wear one's heart upon one's sleeve

Nakangiti na lamang akong naglalakad pauwi. Ni sumbat o salamat, tahimik na dumaan ang anino ko sa tapat ng mga tulog na bahay, sa ilalim ng nakabantay na langit. Konting yapak pa at makikita ko na ang bahay ko; konting tulak pa makakahiga na ko uli; konti na lang at "safe" na ko, iwas muna sa mga taya sa habulang-laro ng buhay.

Natikman ko ang totoong pagod nung huling linggo. Hindi ko namamalayan, naubos na lang yung siglang iniipon ko sa puso. Dahil na rin siguro sa kalayuan ng payday, pero alam ko na ang tunay na salarin ay ang akin ding maselang puso. Napisa sa walang-tigil na pangangamba sa darating na exam sa linggo.

Nung kinagabihan ng biyernes, nakapagpasya na kong umuwi na lamang pagsapit ng alas-singko upang ipagpahinga ang duguang utak. Alam kong nag-iimbita ang ate ko na makipagkita nung gabing din yun. Pero dahil halos alas-diyes pa siya matatapos, sa susunod na araw na lang kami magkikita: sa fort sa mas makataong oras na alas-dose ng hapon.

Tumawag si mum at pilit na binago nya ang isip ko. Mag-aral na lang daw ako sa isa sa maraming bakanteng upuan ng nasabugang glorietta. Napa-buntonghininga na lang ako at ibinulsa ang cellphone bago ko pa ito maibato.

Parang inaya mo yung lawyer mag-inuman bago mag-bar exam; parang nag-commercial si Kris Aquino sa Deal-Or-No-Deal; parang inaya mong mag-jogging yung may LBM.

Hinintay ko sila sa bakanteng activity center ng glorietta, hawak ang mabigat na libro at pumipikit-pikit sa pagod. Pero nung dumating si ate, Huwaw! parang kape lang! Na-miss pala kita, kahit hindi halata.

At nung linggo, pagkatapos nang exam, pauwi't naglalakad, naramdaman ko ang masiglang tibok ng magaan kong puso. Tumibok sya nung naalala kong magkasama tayong buong pamilya sa kotse. Kumpleto, kahit sandali.