It's how you press your lips on my forehead when we're both half-asleep as if assuring me that you're not going anywhere. Not until you have to. It's how I feel immensely safe when my head is pressed on your chest, close enough for me to hear the gentle drumming of your heartbeat.

It's the sound of clinking beer bottles when we're each telling the story of how our day went -- the moments we wished the other was there to witness, the things that made us ponder deeply, the rants, the joys, the tiny victories, the nuances; our shared thoughts; our flaws and imperfections; our minds coursing swiftly through a vast road without us noticing the change in gears. It's how we take each other's breath away when we laugh, so hard that we feel the little bursts of air spaces in our lungs.

It's when we see each other and realize that the image in my head -- one that I constantly think about during the day -- is nothing compared to what I'm seeing before my very eyes. It's the ordinary. And the extraordinary. It's how our hands find their way to meeting, interlocking, as if they have minds of their own.

It's how we make love. Oh, how we make love! It's the way you would hold me tight, telling me that everything will be alright. It's when I feel I'm about to lose my senses when I see your face filled with pleasure; with excitement; with comfort; with hunger; with contentment. It's how we lie on our backs after; frantically catching the breaths we thought we'd lose. It's that moment right after when we're lying beside each other, like two childhood friends lying on the grass after a day's worth of play.

It's when I look at you, and that silent prayer I say right before I close my eyes. And it's happiness, and all the good things filling every part of my being, every cell in my body; every fear I have knowing how my heart could shatter at any given time, every glimpse of a possible future, every truth -- and then I whisper those words just before you fall asleep.

In the darkest of hours,
when even the faintest light
glows
with the magnitude of a thousand suns;

In stillness, in silence,
when each movement
flows
with the velocity of a raging tempest,
And each thought--a deafening roar of thunder;

I wonder
if our souls
ever find
Solace.

Clarity. Honesty. Truth.

I know it's not too much to ask for these. I know I deserve them.

I deserve to no longer hurt while you make me wait for something that, by now, I feel like is never even going to arrive. To no longer stay at the crossroads of choosing between the past or the future. Are you just afraid that if you tell me what it is that you truly feel, in your heart of hearts, that it will break me? 

I deserve courage; to have someone who, without batting an eyelash, would choose me in spite of my flaws; to be with someone who won't ever make me feel like I'm not enough; someone who's not just there for the laughs, for the intimacy, for the I love you's whispered during drunken nights--words that need not be said, but I am brave enough to say anyway, in sobriety and broad daylight. I deserve the same peace and security, the same faith that I so easily and so willingly give.

I deserve not to have my heart broken over and over.

I deserve no less. I owe it to myself to deserve no less.

Today, a chapter of my life is ending.

I'm scared as hell. Terrified. But also hopeful. I guess what's scary about new beginnings are the uncertainties--that feeling of stepping into the unknown, of starting over. Maybe being scared is not so bad. Maybe.

Today, a new chapter is about to begin.

It's 4:55 in the morning, and I'm wide awake. Sleep has been difficult to come by and catch these past few days.

Do you remember the night I went to your condo for the first time? Up until now, everything seems so vivid--I can still see your dusty frame with your grandparents' photo in it; a half-eaten bag of chips on your table. I can still hear the roaring of your air conditioning unit from where I was sitting on your bed while we were talking. I can still remember how you told me that you felt unappreciated, and how I was baffled that someone like you would feel something like that.

As it turns out, right now, I do feel that. I feel like at any given moment, when you choose to, your life could go on without me. Forgotten. Unappreciated. Nights like this, I can't help but feel like you'd only want me to be there when it's convenient for you. I mean, who am I even to think you'd care about my day, if I've eaten, if I'm okay. Because the truth is, right now, I don't feel okay.

Weeks ago, you also told me that you want to aim for lightness--for you, maybe, lightness is within reach. But can you not see that nothing about this is light for me? I'm trying so hard to feel like I mean something to you, that I'm someone special, that I am more than just a thread you tug on when you want to, when you need to. I'm trying so hard to not think about how hung up you were with your past that you couldn't choose me, just me. And now, at close to 5 in the morning, an epiphany: Why am I even trying so hard?

All I ever wanted was to feel at peace. Reassured. To not feel like I have to fight for a place in your life. To not doubt where you and I stand. To feel like the only sensible future is us. And maybe you are failing at that. Maybe I am failing as well.

I did hold your hand that night in Marina Bay Spa, and no, it wasn't because I got carried away in the moment. Maybe it was too bold, but the truth is, it felt like the easiest, most natural thing to do. I also remember you letting go for fear of being seen.

Someday, maybe, it's going to stop feeling like this. Someday, I am still hopeful, that being at peace would be as easy as holding your hand.

I need to sleep.

On Running. And Living

Today, I did something which I haven't done for a long time--running. It took a lot of effort but when I found my pace I realized just how much I miss all the feelings that came with it: my leg muscles burning up, bathed by the arteries that were awakened with every step on the pavement; my lungs dying to burst from the constant battle of its expansion and its hunger for more air; my heart on the verge of explosion as every beat gets faster, stronger. Beads of sweat trickling down like fresh rain on dry ground.

As I arrived to the point where I started, I felt lighter. After everything, I am still alive. I've made it this far, and I want to keep living. I want to continue living.

A final thought--I am enough, have always been enough, will always be enough.

Stuck in Reverse

It is true: that sometimes you can feel so tired that sleep won't even come easy. Yesterday began with a phone call that instantly heralded a day of stress and chaos; another day where instead of taking hold of the time, time took told of me. And as if the universe wanted to push me a little further, things started to pile up. Then, just before the night ended, there was you. I could just feel my body sinking into sheer exhaustion.

What's exhausting is that you keep seeing the worst in what I say; in what I choose. Assuming that I think less of you because of a single choice. That for every reason I had, you'd look past the good and see the negative.

You don't get it, do you?

I made a decision bearing the wisdom of my experience--of the unseen price of carrying the title. It was not a choice based on mere capability.

I long for the day when you would understand that at the end of it all, I genuinely wanted all the best things for you in the coming year, and not merely the title that you and the others think is "best". I look back at the amount of time that this job took away from me and I think about the multitude of things you could do with it. How you could use that time to keep getting better--to not stagnate. I want you to do better at all the things I wish I had the time to be good at this year. A better physician. A better researcher. A better mentor. A better peer. If I can believe that you could be all those, why can't you?

Yesterday was a tiring day, but it was not the weight of the job that was exhausting. What's exhausting is realizing that you don't believe in you the way that I do.

Nakakapagod.

Trying too hard. Thinking too much.

Thirty five days before the end, thirty five days before the beginning. Life is too short and too beautiful to be anything less than happy.

One Day

A Post-It to Myself:

One day, it's not going to hurt so bad. I'm not saying the pain will go away, but you will learn to let it be a part of you. One day, you won't have to cry yourself to sleep wondering why you weren't good enough. Have faith that one day, all of this will make sense and everything will fall into its rightful place. Trust that even though it hurts now, happiness is still within reach and you will end up where you're meant to be.

Never stop loving. If there's anything you shouldn't run out of, it's love.

The Other Side of Things

I keep forgetting that as I walk through this life, I'm not the only one who's growing old. Today, my dad was rushed to the emergency room after experiencing chest heaviness, palpitation, dizziness, and loss of consciousness. Had it been another patient, it would have been easy to just commit to a diagnosis of syncope. But I guess things are different when you're at the other end of things--when you're the clueless watcher; when you're the relative who has an inkling but does not know what's really happening; when your own parent is the patient.

I haven't been home for quite some time, and I can't help but feel guilty that I wasn't there to take care of my parents more than I really want to. It's a heartbreaking fact that doctors care so much about other people that sometimes they lose time to take care of themselves and their loved ones. I hope that my being here, tending to my dad's needs, I can show him the care that I have failed to provide him because of what I do.

I honestly hoped you would care more.

Hey :)

Before I even close my eyes and sleep, I just want you to know how extremely proud I am of you. Tomorrow will be the last day of your major rotation. You made it, love. You've come this far.

I miss you.

With love,
N

Hey,

I almost thought I wouldn't be able to get up earlier this morning until Charmy asked me what time I'll have chief res rounds. That's when it hit me--I need to get up. I need to take a step forward.

I was impressed with the interns during rounds and I made sure I remembered their names--Vie and Bevs. They were able to answer the questions I'd normally ask our first years. I told them they should consider neurology for residency. Three clerks were also commendable earlier--Gina, Jitca (?), and Emil. I never thought I'd miss teaching that much.

Then I saw you as we went back to NICU. I smiled. I smiled because that's the only thing I could do at that very moment. I couldn't run to you, or hug you, or kiss you, or hold your hand, so I smiled.

After that, Clare and I went to mass. I welled up while singing "Sa 'Yo Lamang". I thought of you when I first said "peace be with you" before turning to Clare. I am truly hoping that we'd both find peace.

I'm off to a coffee shop to start cramming my grand rounds. I don't know where exactly I'll work, though.

I just also want to say I miss you. I hope you're taking care of yourself.

With love,
N

Less in one hand. A bottle of beer in the other. And a dozen thoughts. In vino veritas.

Life is too short to be anything less than happy. Somehow, despite everything, I believe I still have the courage to be happy. I don't exactly know why--somehow, I just know I can.

So tonight, bring on the pain.

Tomorrow, courage.

Nikoz, please do not forget this feeling. This night.

Hope

We did everything we could.

Thank you, N, for trying.

Fear. Pain. Love.

What's the point?

There are times when I feel like it's better to just vanish. How nice it would be to forget. To stop thinking. To not feel.

Today, I woke up from a terrible nightmare. The dream was not entirely vivid, but I remember feeling out of breath as I cried my heart out. There was an image of you on my couch, and then I saw myself getting out of the bathroom when he called. You answered. And then the two of you wouldn't stop talking, laughing. He made you happy. I remember being in tears as I shouted, "Please don't go." But you took your phone, hurried to the door, and just left me there. 8:15 AM.

Over the past days, I couldn't stop myself from thinking. From being afraid. How did it ever come to this--to being so afraid? Afraid of losing you, yet also afraid that if we were together, life will find a way to break us. A text. An email. A phone call. A chance encounter with him. Afraid of you not being able to let go. Afraid of not being enough.

I keep wondering, is this how love is supposed to be like? In your own words, how do we love? Isn't love, by its very nature, the most basic and simplest way of feeling? Weren't we told that love should be greater than our fears and doubts?

I do not want to love with so much fear. You and I don't deserve that. I am also not asking you to forget the past; to un-love him--it's absurd to think that's possible. I know there will come a time when you can honestly tell me and yourself that you're ready. How and when we'll get there is that which we do not know. Maybe when that time comes I will still be here--unafraid, certain. And maybe then, I could love you with the same vastness, the same depth, and the same tranquility as the ocean. Maybe.

I wish I could stop myself from thinking. In all honesty, sometimes, I feel like I am weighing myself down. I hope I can be better.

Fast forward to a month later -- being finally done with Pedia, and going back to my niche. During these days, we'd see each other every morning for endorsements, and again after work to do something we both love: reading. We'd read our neurology books, but on some days we'd pause to read fiction. We would taste all sorts of coffee from different coffee shops

Fast forward to four months later -- you get to see me graduate. Four years of gruesome training finally coming to a close. Of course it's you I want the most to be there. We spend the night after the ceremony getting ourselves drunk with Asti, laughing all night long; me looking you in the eye and telling you that I'll make it my goal to also see you graduate. I'd keep wishing I'll be there to see that.

Fast forward to a year later -- we fight over the silliest things: where to eat, whose condo to sleep in, whose turn it is to buy groceries. I'll be easily annoyed because the stress of the boards adds to my existing anxiety. I throw tantrums in the morning and you console me, giving me the push to finish one chapter at a time. I spend the day studying or doing clinics for practice, then in the afternoon, I'm filled with excitement as I fetch you from work.

Fast forward to couple of years later -- both of us done with residency training. Real life waiting to unfold before our very eyes. We doubt. We feel afraid. But we step into the unknown and take a leap to starting a life somewhere far. Somewhere cold. By this time, our families know we're together and we meet them for the holidays. Fellowship won't feel lonely since we're together.

Rewind to now. Where things seem blurry. A time when things are uncertain. A time when choices have to be made and issues sorted out. A crossroad.

Maybe this is how you fight. Or how you don't. Maybe this is how we get there, or maybe this is how we lose. Is fast forward bound to be real, or is it going to be just another figment of imagination? The questions never seem to run out.

And then, a pause.

The Little Fragments

I love you the only way I know how.

Kaya ko ba talagang iwan si...

The love of my life.

You are love.

Nikoz.

Mahal kita.

You make me fall, too.

Nice to hear your voice this early :)

I wish we could just hold hands all night long

What is your choice?

Like I told you, I already did.

It's over.

Tinapos ko na.

I told him I need some time to be alone.

You make me happy.

I called him, and I told him everything.

Here you go mahal :)

I'm sorry.

Please give me another chance.

Don't move. I'm not asking you to come closer or go farther.

Let me love you.


Words. I no longer know which words hold the truth. As for me, the only truth I know right now is that I love you.