On First Love

I am 22 years old. At this point, most people my age already met their first love. Although some have completely let go of their first love, to others, it has become their only love.

So I met him when I was 12, on the first day of school. I must say, I didn't really fall in love instantly. But I clearly remember that we were both smiling and looking into each other's eyes when we exchanged names in that certain corner of the classroom. Pardon me for being cheesy but my life was never the same since then.

Our story is quite long, and only both of us knew the original and heartfelt version. But to shorten the whole ten years, we first became bestfriends. Soon after, the friendship grew deeper until we eventually liked each other. Because we were still teens, we liked other people too and had relationships with others along the way. But then, one day, he courted me. I said yes. And since it seemed like applied physics for both of us, we parted ways when we reached college. Even if we lost the relationship, we remained good friends through the course of time. And even if we were single, we didn’t commit to anyone else. Until four years later, we found ourselves in each other's arms again.

It's good to be with your first love for a million reasons. And though I can't cite all of them, let me give a few. Primarily, the conversations couldn't get any better. We often talked about our childhood before we met each other, our highschool life, and future plans which aren't necessarily for us together. It was truly nice to share those long talks and walks with him. Also, I can't overlook the beauty of knowing someone for a long time. I don’t know him completely, but I have a good idea of who he is and vice versa. He knew how to turn my day around and make me smile even in the most boring hours of the day. He simply understands me. At the same time, being with my first love was not hard for my family; it actually spared them of their fear that I might date some rebel, addict, or maniac. In a way, they were confident whenever we went out. And finally, sticking with the first love gave us thousands of memories together. At times, we would just sit, pick one memory among the thousands, and laugh or cry about it. Doing that pretty much consumes the time during our dates and bonding sessions.

But as I grew older, I also learned a few cons. And I've been learning more recently. When we were still together, we lived in this bubble where only he and I existed. But then, I realized that we live in a huge world full of possibilities. Being chained to my first love limits the experiences that I can have in this world. I realized I want to experience a wonderful detachment, one that allows me to see the world and be myself while being loved and supported by someone special. Also, I suddenly thought that though my age seems mature, I still consider myself young with lots of years ahead of me. Even so, I am confronted with the question, what if the person I liked when I was 12 will not be the same person I will love when I'm 30? I must admit, sometimes I wish I met my first love when I was a bit older. At least by that time, we wouldn't have to wait too long. And by that time, we would just have to make it happen. And finally, I realized that people my age have a track record of five to six relationships. I only have two; one with my neighbor and from that you know it was fleeting, and another with my first real love. Period. At times, I wonder whether I’m missing out on some things. But I got distracted with the beauty of staying with my first love, I didn’t pretty much dwell on what I was missing. Now, I have the chance to find out.

Someone I knew had a theory – the person you end up with should be different from your first love. She said by doing so, it reveals how you have matured from the time you met your first love until the time you decide to tie the knot. But still, I’ve heard of people who end up with their first love, come what may. And there are some who end up with someone else only to realize they want to be with the person they first learned to love. But then, I also heard a story of how a man turned his back on a long-term relationship with his first love just because of someone new. These possibilities truly scare me. And yet, there are still others who are in their 20s and still waiting for their first love.

Our story evolved within ten years. I’ve always received jokes that it could qualify as an episode of MMK or it deserves to be a telenovela. And in ten years time, we pretty much covered most of the relationship status options in Facebook, except for Married and Engaged. Ten years. The roots have crept towards the deepest part of the ground, making it grueling to remove. I don’t think my life will ever be the same.

I am 22 years old and I already met my first love. Though I am quite unsure whether this is the only love I’ll ever have, I believe I enjoyed every bit of it. They say first love never dies. But I contend that true love never ends. In my case, I hope it won’t.

Day Two

Day Two was his birthday. A few days back, when we were still together, I planned something. I'm someone who's big on surprises and year after year, I always did something that would surprise him. I guess this year, I was the one surprised.

On the morning of Day Two, I felt like I woke up in hell. Suddenly, sadness had this huge arms that were wrapped around me. My eyes were puffy from crying the night before. It was a good cry, one that I badly needed. Little did I know that I was going to do more sulking the next day.

I was doing some house chores when my finger got stuck in a drawer. I banged the drawer when I closed it without noticing that my finger was still inside. It was very painful. Being the crybaby that I am, I cried. At first, it was because I couldn't feel my finger anymore. Minutes later, I was crying because I lost someone who was celebrating his birthday that day. My mom saw me crying. After a few moments, she was crying too. She shared my grief somehow.

I proceeded with the day, evolving into this super pathetic being that I once was years ago. Deleting old messages, listening to sad songs, staring blankly at a wall and remembering the past. The funny and good thing is, when I remember us, the good times come to surface even if we fought a million times. As the day went on, I continued to morph from a girl brimming with positivity into an "emo" kid wanting to tear the whole world down.

Before Day Two ended, we talked on the phone. It was a good conversation. I said the things I might regret not saying. I was crying too much that the desk literally had a puddle of tears. Gaaaah. I never imagined that I'd be this way again.

Before, when the day ends, I would be thankful for two things. One, my mom is a survivor. Two, I had a beautiful and thriving relationship. For Day Two, I thanked God for my mom's life and The Boy's life, which I was a part of even for a while.

Day One

Today is the first day after the earthquake, something that shook me til I hit ground zero. It is devastating, it is painful and it is unexpected. Although I've been through this before, I realize how my defenses have altered completely.

Day one is for state of shock. It's day when your mind is just filled with replays. Replays of what happened before the earthquake. Replays of how you acted and reacted while the ground was shaking beneath your feet. Words and cries continuously echo through your mind, making Day One very unproductive. Sure, you could go with your daily routine but your mind would be elsewhere.

Day One could also be spent in denial. It didn't happen. Maybe it can still be patched up. Maybe it's just among many other ordinary earthquakes. And because you're still in denial, maybe you will shed a few tears.

My Day One started out fine. I embraced the new yet familiar world. I went through my daily routine, with flashbacks often disturbing my thoughts. But I couldn't go through the day without doing two things. One was to talk to friends. I vented out my feelings, my worries, my thoughts. And as expected, they gave advice, which from experience I knew that any amount of it won't make me feel better. And two was to cry. I had to let the truth sink in. I had to mourn. I was sad and and I knew it is a must for me to let it all out.

Many years ago, I experienced the same thing from the same source. That time, I was a terrible mess. It was as if my world stopped. I lost my ground. I did immature things; looking back does not make me feel proud. It took me a long time before I tried to be out in the field again.

Now, I am thankful to see that my responses changed. I refuse to rebel, to do anything that would provoke guilt. I choose to sort my thoughts without the influence of anything but music. I refuse to do a text brigade informing everyone of the disaster I'm in. I just want to be with myself, nursing my broken heart.

It is only Day One. The good news is, at some point, things will get better from Day One to 1000. I will be strong. I will be better. I will be happy.

***

I don't know if I made any sense writing this. I tried to. But again, things will get better. In times like this, nothing else could soothe me but music. My song for today is Someone You Used To Know by Zee Avi. It captures the whole thing.

Goodnight. :)

Amazing Race?

In the last two days, I visited a doctor twice and a lawyer once. And I drove around the city with my sister and with brown envelopes tucked in our armpits sweating from the Davao heat. Eew.

It was all because my sister applied for this overseas thingy. She went for it on a whim, just to see how far she goes. And two days ago, we received a list of papers to be gathered. It was one big scavenger hunt. Today, we were on panic mode, trying to accomplish every thing before the day ends. I was driving as if I stole this huge van that is so unfit for a pandak woman driver like me. Every accomplishment on the list leads to another task. Ooh, it is so Amazing Race. And we're competing with eighty other students (plus their stage moms, dads or sisters) from all over the country. The funny thing is, my sis and I are trying to run after a deadline that already passed by. September 15!!! But since the documents came on the day of the deadline, thanks to bagyong Maring, we were given a leeway of two days. Two days!

But anyhow, I learned a lot.

• I have better anger management skills. We had the documents photocopied and to our surprise, the photocopies missed two inches of the original page. I was at ultra panic mode that time. But instead of breaking down and burning the whole photocopy stall, I got all the docs and took them to another stall. Simple. No energy wasted for harsh words.
• I am now able to choose wisely. Example, I bought Palabok instead of pizza. Haha, lame. :))
• My (reckless) driving skills improved. I press the horn for three seconds at intersections to ward off those unruly taxis that sprout out of nowhere. Hehehe.
• I have, for the nth time, discerned the difference between the effects of "action" and "reaction". Action gets you somewhere, reaction gets you nowhere.

***

The Boy's mother is really the nicest and most sincere.

Their family is on a trip to the other side of Mindanao. I was calling up The Boy to hear some updates but he didn't answer his phone. No biggie. Minutes later, his mom called me up and had a little chit-chat with me. It's like he took on the conversation that The Boy and I were supposed to have (minus the mushy gushy stuff of course). She even asked about the "Amazing Race" that we had. Awww.

She is truly the nicest. She never says anything that she doesn't mean. Behind a great guy is indeed a great mom. :)

Twenty-eight.

Kinidnap ko si Lalake ngayong araw. Sinundo ko siya mula sa kanyang trabaho, sinama sa mga lakad na inutos ni King Triton. Kumain kami sa peyborit naming restaurant, yung sa tabing dagat. Kumain kami hanggang sa makita namin yung ilalim ng palayok ng Sinigang na Hipon. Panay pa tawanan namin, at malamang nakita ng waitress kanina ang mga kumikislap naming mga mata na parang mga adik na nakatira ng baby powder.

Mula pa nung dose anyos ako, naniniwala ako na may special power si Lalake. Meron syang relaxing energy na puno ng positivity at happiness, kahit hindi siya adik. Tuwing kasama ko siya, pakiramdam ko nakasakay ako sa carousel ng Enchanted Kingdom, nakangiti from ear to ear at ine-enjoy ang paligid kong umiikot. Hindi ako makapaniwala na may nakilala akong taong may dalang calming effect sa akin, mas matapang pa sa SalonPas. Sa totoo lang, hindi ko alam kung ano na ang nangyari sa akin sakaling wala sya sa buhay ko nung mga nakaraang buwan. Naloka na siguro ako.

Gustong-gusto ko yung pagspoil niya sa akin, kahit wala akong hinihingi o dinedemand sa kanya. Gusto ko yung style niya na sinasabi nya yung mga salitang dapat kong marinig, at hindi yung gusto ko lang marinig. At ang saya ng pakiramdam na tuwing naglalakad kami, parang may magnet ang mga kamay namin na automatic nagdidikitan na agad. I love his real, pure and positive presence. Walang preservatives. :)

Fourteens

On January 14 some time ago, I received the oddest proposal. It happened at a bakeshop, over a few pieces of ensaymada and a bottle of Sprite. It was after class. As I was answering my assignment, he worked his speech beside me, beating around the bush. He told me about the weather and how much it rained on January. Then he talked about how time flies. Then suddenly, he was telling me what a good couple we could be if only I answered his question. I stopped writing.

In the exact moment that he was about to say something, a friend passed by our table and asked to borrow an extra pen. I fished my bag for a pen and gave it to her.

I focused back on my assignment and he went on with his speech. I could tell by his lines that everything was scripted: he had to start from the top again. Weather. Time. Us being a good couple. I wanted to laugh out loud. Then, he asked me to look into his eyes.

I started to nervously shift my gaze towards him when another friend (girl) passed by, asking if I wanna go home with her. She figured out that she just interrupted something so she said she will wait for me outside the bakeshop. I looked at him and I saw beads of sweat trickling from his forehead. It must have been agonizing, I thought as I continued answering my assignment.

"So I was saying..", he said as he started off again. His voice trailed away, I was lost in thought. I started to put my things in my bag as I reflected, not minding his litany. Of the time that he has been following me around, he never talked to me this way. And I haven't seen him as jittery as that time. He was always smiling and singing, with those eyes that enclose huge mysteries. Being with him felt good, as cozy as lying on a couch. But I believed he was of a different level, a notch higher than mine. His intentions were a blur; I was unsure of him. Yet of myself, I was sure.

Just as I concluded my thoughts, he popped the million-dollar question.

I received the oddest proposal. The smell of fresh bread and wiffs of asphalt showered with rain reminded me much of that day and how I have never been the same since then.

Today is January 14. As rain started to pour this afternoon, I pondered if he still thinks of how much it rained in January and how much time flies without even noticing it. He looked at me, I looked at him and we smiled at each other contentedly.