Toyjunk-The Dolphin

    Boom…Boom…Boom Those are not explosions. Those are my heartbeats. Boom…Boom…Boom

I have just come from the fiesta of Sampaloc. It should have been fun but unfortutunately it brough fear into my spine. I understand the word terrifying in a concrete sense.  Boom…Boom…Boom

    We had just come from Lloyd’s place. The food was palatable. Our host was entertainingly gracious. My company was exciting. At 4:30 p.m., we decided to ride a tricycle to ride a jeep to Lucban to come back to Lucena. We reached the jeepney station. We were such in a hurry that we get through the line like a street smart kids. We were succesful with our quest. We got the best seats. We were exchanging pleasantries and we had forgotten the people around us. We didn’t even notice that the jeep started to move. We have travelled a kilometer already when we heard a loud screech. Along with the irritating sound were shrill cries. I also shouted very loud. We were shaken by the force. Boom…boom…boom. Oh I heard my heartbeat. Boom..boom.

     I know Carina, who was seated at my right, was sandwhiched by my body. I knew it hurt for I felt the pressure at my side. But, she said that she was alright. I check ed  my other friends. They were okey except for a shock because of the jolt. All the while, we thought everyone was well when someone exclaimed that the woman beside her had wounded her head. Boom…boom…boom. I Heard my heartbeat. I looked at her and I saw her wound.

    It was big. Blood oozed  out. I quickly got back my sight. I couldn’t stand it. Boom…boom..boom   Though I tried to divert my attention, I was shivering with fear. I was terrified as I heard remarks from other passenger. Then, I overhead someone that she should be brought to the hospital. I just realized that the jeep was turning back to the station. We  decided to come down as soon as the jeep came into a halt. I saw the wounded lady ride a tricycle for the hospital.  Boom..boom…boom. I heard my heartbeat.

    We did not  ride the first two jeepneys .  We were thinking that jinx might be with the people with us in the first jeepney.(A weird conclusion huh.) We chose to ride the third  jeepney because it has a sign, God is good. We were thinking that it was a good omen. (I do believe in omens. I  got  the idea from Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist).

     We were praying for a safe trip. We were traumatized by the prior experience. But it seemed that fate teased us. The jeepney driver of the jeep we were riding was the most reckless driver I have encountered ever. He literally let the vehicle fly along the winding road to Lucban. I prayed my Hail Marys  a record time. Five hail Marys in a minute. Yes. I prayed so hard. In the first time of my life, I assertively ask the driver to slow down. In a record time, we were  in Lucban. We rode the vehicle going to Lucena. Boom…boom…boom.      

I was still afraid. So we took our place. I tried to entertain myself. I peeped  when    I   saw a young couple kissed unshyingly. I recognized a former student. I talked to him. I teased people around me. I talked to them senseless thing. I marveled at a cute guy before me. I looked at the old lady.I tapped my feet. I  crossed my legs . I touched my hair. I smiled t people. I did everything. I needed such to survive the trip.Thank God. We reached Lucena.

     So you thought, I am already okey. Not yet. Here I am now writing my blog. I am appeasing myself.  I hope I can get over this. I have to psychologize myself. A prayer will do.

      Boom…boom…pfft.  Hail Mary…

     " Moon and stars shine at daytime. The summer heat transposes into the icy age."

     The bizzarre thinking is at present my usual.  I don’t understand myself. Things aren’t normal anymore.I am completely clueless.

     Stop thinking cruel. I have not gone nuts. My screws are still tight. I am still in my senses. Only, I feel change within me. Let me cite the peculiarity that I exhibit nowadays.

    I wake up with stars in my eyes. Waking up is a waited moment of the day. Unlike before, I like always to sleep. As a matter of fact, day became night because I was professional sleeper. Today,  I am raring to go. I immediately get my towel and take my bath. I breeze through dressing up and I proceed to school.

   I romance with notes. I am still serious with my work. I am still perfectionist but now I enjoy every minute of my work. Each effort I do, I appreciate. I literally sing while working. I sing my heart out. I whistle a happy tune.

    Good is very good. Bad is good. Very good is perfect. All are good. I find it weird. My critical self had turned affirmative. Everything is good for me. No matter how bad it is, it becomes perfectly alright with my standard. If I have seen some flaws, I gladly give myself into it to make it utterly perfect.

      I realized that enumerating these oddities would be in vain. You will miss the point if I continue the babblative effort.Instead, let me tell you the reason why the changes. That will spell out the point.

     Last holy Wednesday, at 9:15 p.m., I got a text message. It was a one-liner. It read.

     "I love you so much."

     I clicked my phone endlessly. I was checking if there were other messages with it. I was sweating clammily. I texted back asking if it was a joke. But there was no reply. Later,I jokingly texted "Cutie" (That is how I call the person.) that i love him too. But still there was no answer.

    I wasn’t  able to sleep that night. The dawn was too slow. I wanted an answer. But the answer never came.

     The sleepless night never affected me that day. I did my chores with dedication but the text message still in mind. I was losing all trust with the situation. I arrived in the conclusion that it was a joke. Until during lunch time, a text came. The explanation of cutie why a text message couldn’t be sent was enough.  I did not bother to ask him about the I love you message.After, I read beyond the lines of every messages he hhad sent after. Cutie reminds me to eat, to take my medicine. Update about the person’s whereabouts was regular. I realized the connection. I am important. I matter. Days were too long. I wanted to see cutie but it was impossible. I have to wait until Monday.

     When we saw each other, we both couldn’t look each other eye to eye. We ran out of words. We couldn’t exhange sane ideas. Sensibility lost its meaning. It was funny, I ask the person same questions. Thus I got the same answers. We stop talking when others are around. We were like children in their first day of school. We were unsure of our actions. We cut short the meeting.Still, I felt his sincerity when he bade me goodbye. The feeling for the moment was elating.It was ecstatic. We were both happy.

    This afternoon, no words came out. We were so shy because there were people around. We both felt the tension. We talked with our eyes.We understood. We parted ways oblivious.

     So, you now know why I see violets as read. You are right. I am in …….

………………………LOVE for the real first time. (Whew.)

            I was fixing my things when I found a picture. I held it on both hands. I was surprised that my hands did not even shiver as I held the image. I was apprehending such reaction for a year ago was a different story. 

Pain was stabbing me in multitude times. My self-image then was in an all time low. I was blaming myself for breaking the trust of the person I valued the most that time.  I was like a schizophrenic moving back and forth beside my bed. I did it a thousand times. (That was an understatement. I am ashamed to admit that I did it even more.) The crying blurred my vision. Then, I was too tired that I involuntarily sat on my bed. I was lost in translation. I lay. I held the pillow in my hands. I repeatedly uttered the moaning of disgruntlement.  Then zapped…I was lost in the universe. I vanished like the foam of the sea. I became an atom that dismantled in smaller parts. I went kaput.  I did not exist.

         I could just take a deep breath, recalling such fact. Slowly, I looked at the picture again. I held it closer. I scrutinized it for a long time. I studied every detail. I looked at him. I said his name. I quipped the word, best friend.

       I saw the innocence he exuded in the image. The unpretentious smile downcast the other details of the picture. He was kind.  I muttered to  myself. I was waiting for my tears to well. Crying would have been expected for I relived all the happy memories we had. Crying would have been a natural reaction as I recalled pains that stuck the two of us.  I wanted that I cry. For an unknown reason, I didn’t. Instead, I stood I put down the image on top of my computer. Then, I walked towards the cabinet. The act was done with preciseness. I was so sure of what to get. I was excited. My movements were fast.

      Suddenly, I saw the paper bag. I pulled it out. I carried it back to my bed. Then I sat. I inserted my hand into the paper bag.  A soft velvety touch gave a different sensation for the moment.  I couldn’t explain the emotion. Ecstatic is an understatement. I pulled it out. I saw the stuffed toy.  It can’t help to give myself a grimace for I find myself bird brain for hiding it for over a year. (Hiding it was important. Because if I didn’t,  I would still have been wallowing this time.)  I embraced it.  I wanted that I cry. I didn’t.

    Then got the picture on my PC again. As my right hand cuddled the toy, I was holding the picture. At that instance,  I sighed the words of thanks.(The moment will put a movie scene into shame.)

    Then I remembered that his birthday was near. For some years, I have never failed to write him a creative piece. I paused for the moment. I thought if I would write him a piece again. I decided not to write.  I remembered that the same time last year, I wrote him a promise.

     It was the same time last year that I texted him. I wanted to talk. I was so sure that I wanted to patch things up. After a series of pleading for a meeting, he heeded. I readied myself. I knew what words to say. I knew how to act. I was determined to bring his trust back.

    I anxiously waited for him. Then he came. His sight brought pricks to the heart as I saw him enter with wrath on his face. He uttered words that would haunt me after. “Ano? Hindi  na naman magkakaintindihan.” He sat beside me. It took sometime before words came out from my mouth. With the last tinge of courage, I told him what was inside my heart. I was very sincere that I almost wanted to literally show my heart so he would be able to see how I longed to have him back and how sincere I was bring his trust. Then, like a sword penetrating a spongel. He said the magic words. “Hindi na tayo pwedeng mag bestfriend. We are different.” Those words put clogs on my ears that I didn’t hear no more.  Time froze. My heart suddenly stopped to later on beat with the hardest thump. It was too hard that it rocked my world.

    I should have pleaded. That should have been natural for me to do. But I didn’t. I humbly accepted it. I was like a warrion who boed to his enemy.

     That remaining day was the longest in my life. I thought every minute. I was trying to stop time. I was really praying I could bring back the time. I was praying I could start over again. 

     That night, a moment of enlightenment breeze through the senses, I took a bold step. I wrote the letter. I wrote the promise.  (Yes, I promised. I promised that I will prove my worth by leaving him behind. I did. I do.  I will always be true to that. For the last time, I will build my self-respect. I will bear my promise. (See? Not all promises can be broken.))

For days, I revised the letter. Then a day before his birthday, I sent it to him with the friendship ring he gave me. It was hard but it was proper.

     I thought it would be easy. It wasn’t. I was blaming myself endlessly. My life picked up so slow. I was not achieving. I was not moving. Moving on was too elusive.

        It took me a year to get over what happened. The year seemed century but it was worth it. I learned life. I found God. I learned to value my family. I learned to value myself. I found me.

      It is now over.  Now as I hold the picture and the stuffed toy, I was waiting to shed a tear. I didn’t. It was over.

     Have I gone over him? No. It is better to have him in my mind to remind me to be best as a person. I am thankful that he had been part of my life. I became not only better but best.

     Do I want him back? No. He deserves a better life without me.

     Why did I not cry? I have healed myself. I have forgiven myself. This was an epiphany of my life. I am blessed. 

    I got the paper bag. I hid the stuffed toy and the picture in it. I put it in the cabinet.

    I slept.

    I slept forever.

    It was peaceful.

    Then…

    I am now happy.

    (I was praying that you would not read this blog for I wanted you to be free with skepticisms with regard the reason for this literary move. I wrote this piece for I couldn’t contain the happiness I feel at the moment. The pain was over. The worries are over. The regrets are over. What I felt was relief that understanding came like an exploding star amid a black hole. What I felt was relief that happiness came like the chirping of crickets after the torrents.

      I just wish you the best.

      I wish you happy birthday this year and the coming years. Thank you for teaching me life. This will be my last piece for you. I know that I have no more reason to talk about you. I will always remember the promise. I will never forget.

     You are now happy. I now face life on my own. You face your own battle. We have our own battles. May God bless us always. God is so good.

     Every morning is a new day. Every day is a new life. Every waking up gives new perspectives.

    I am so sure of this fact for yesterday I was a different I. Now, the "I" is  so peculiarly odd with the "I" of yesteryears.

    I am certain for my life is a testimony of the fact.

    One morning, I woke up.

     I can’t dance anymore. My singing has gone mediocre. My speaking has faltered than usual. I have to triple my effort to say things clearly. I limp when i walk. Dizziness has been part of a daily routine.

     Five years ago was a different story. I was a near perfect being but now no more.

    One morning, I woke up.

     He is now gone. Not a single mark is now left. Not a single sigh is now heard. Not a word of concern is given. No bond exists. The relationship is gone. The friendship went puffed.

    A year ago was a contrast.Harmony prevailed. The relation was ideal but now distrusts rule.

    That is how tricky life is. It takes wild turns. Things change in an instant.

    With uncertainties, fear should have stolen the confidence I have. Fortunately, I take things in a different stride. The truth is that I love every morning. I love every waking up. I love the fact that tomorrow may be different from today.

    Life is exciting for life changes.

    I only I wish that when I wake up tomorrow,  I will still enjoy life to the fullest.  I hope that I will understand life’s meaning more everytime I fail and  everytime I am challenged. 

    Life evolves. It’s God’s rule.

   Tomorrow, I wake up.

    Then…(God lets me continue my life story.  I know it will be different again. God blesses me.   God wakes me up. He loves me)