Sinta Na Hindi Akin. (Tagalog Poem)

Ang isip ay lumilipad nang madalas,

Nananaginip kahit imposible.

Kahit alam na nating parehas

Nandito lang tayo sa kung saan komportable.

 

Sa lalong pagtanggi sa sarili

Na hindi totoo ang nararamdaman,

Sa ngiti ko’y nananatili

Ang bakas ng kasiyahan.

 

Magkalayo man sa ngayon,

Hindi man alam ang ruta papunta diyan,

Malay mo’y sumang-ayon

Ang tadhanang nakalaan.

 

Sumasagi rin kaya sa isip mo

Ang mga ganitong bagay?

Tinatanong mo ba ang iyong puso,

“Siya na ba pang-habambuhay?”

 

Siguro nga, ganito ang trato mo sa lahat.

O di kaya’y kaibigan lang talaga ako.

Kahit ano man sa dalawa ang angat,

Nagpapasalamat na pinagtagpo.

 

Magulo man at walang kasiguraduhan,

Pero handa akong itaya ang puso ko muli.

Hindi mo man alam sa kasalukuyan

Na gusto kong sayo’y umuwi.

 

Sinta na hindi akin, manatili ka

Rito kung saan tayo lang ang nakakaalam.

Sa lugar na walang humuhusga,

Sa lugar na sana’y walang magiging paalam.

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What Does It Mean To Fall In Love?

It came rushing in like a breezy wind finding its way towards the comfort of your room’s open window. The feeling of being home–in fact, more than that–captures your soul and fills you with bliss that you felt like was stolen, deprived of you for so long. It doesn’t matter whether you expected it to come, or how long you’ve waited, or that it wasn’t part of your plan. You attracted energy that appealed to that one person in particular.

 

Like they always say, it’s crazy that in retrospect, this person wasn’t as significant to you as he is now. It’s surreal that somewhere along the way, you clicked and interacted with each other like it was the natural thing to do. How the power of conversing gives you a cheap (well, not really) thrill of finding out more and more little details about him that you wouldn’t get to discover unless you actually talk with compassion and interest.

 

And you start to question yourself: where had he been all this time? He had always been there, hiding in plain sight, living, existing, breathing; the same way you were. It was privilege, a fact you weren’t aware of the first time. But when you finally acknowledged this truth, it was the moment you know you’ll both treasure and regret (if things turn up ugly). And you know you don’t have to look any further for questions you will never have answers to.

 

But there’s a catch to it somehow…it’s really too good to be true. Here’s the thing: you don’t know if he feels the same way. You haven’t mustered the courage (or never will, who knows?) to ask him directly because it isn’t your business to pry on his feelings. Your feelings are your feelings alone, and this applies to him as well. You hold on to this tiny slivering dash of hope that maybe, just maybe, he looks at you the way you look at him: with admiration, respect, and most of all, love.

 

Love. Huh. It’s a feeling that’s become foreign to you, even though it has been only months since the person you loved for years broke your trust and decided to close his eyes and never open them once again as long as you’re in the picture. The person who made you travel an extensive road with no exit signs or directions to follow. Yet you’re here, getting back up, putting the past behind you, and moving on for yourself.

 

Because of this, it provides you with a great amount of terror. What if this boy you’re talking to isn’t the man you think he is? This has been the scar of the love that left you–a bag of trust issues, constant need of reassurance and consistency, and a slight craving of attention. And you may not admit it yourself, but you are. You are scared. You’re scared to love again and to open your mind and heart to another person that you know is temporary; but you’re also fearless and careless because no matter how much you convince yourself that you don’t want to fall in love, you always do in the end and that excites you. It moves you, even. And that’s what it means to fall in love: to have your heart chewed up and spit out, until you cross paths with this one lovely human being in your lifetime and you know: you’re on your feet again, walking, running, frolicking towards love, towards the person closest next to home; and everything that’s disheartening, and even the walls you absentmindedly surrounded yourself with, will be gone the moment you hear your heart beat.

Alt er love.

I don’t know how to put it in words. I don’t know how to explain it.

 

….I miss being in love. 

I’ve always denied the fact that I do miss it. I know that I’m a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need anybody else just so I could call myself a “somebody.” But frankly, I miss those days where I felt like I was loved by someone who I thought was the best person ever. It’s been years since I’ve had my last boyfriend. And no, it’s not him that I miss; it’s the feeling itself. The feeling of being in love. The feeling of being invincible.

I’ve never actually had any problem with being alone. In fact, I enjoy the thought of it. But whenever I go outside and see couples being happy with each other’s company, I’ve never felt more ashamed to be alone. I felt like they have the upper hand just because they have someone by their side; someone who loves them.

Then again, whenever I’m alone, I also feel like this is what’s meant for me. Because I tend to be inconsistent, rational, and very anxious. I’ve planted this idea in my head that maybe I’ll just be happy by myself–where I watch TV shows all day, go on Twitter, hang out with my friends, studying hard, being with my family, and enjoying my own company with no attachment to any boy.

I’m afraid. I’m afraid of being in love again. Because I don’t want to be a burden to my partner. I don’t want him to feel like he has someone to take care of every minute. I’m scared of being attached to someone who made me feel like I’m their world when in reality, I was a mere part of it.

I’ve also known that when you commit into a relationship, you also commit yourself to heartbreaks, fights, feeling of emptiness, love, lust, sometimes sex, happiness, loyalty, and so forth. But sometimes, I can’t help myself to think that maybe I only want the good parts. That maybe I don’t want to experience the bad again. And I know, that that’s selfish of me to say.

And I’m hard-headed. Because I’ve always known that love isn’t like what you read in books and what you see in movies. My life is not a cliche, and it will never be.

So….I do miss being in love. But I know to myself that I also can find happiness within my own company and that love will present itself to me and I don’t have to rush. That someday, in some place, there’s someone out there who will love me and make me happy. And he will break my heart, too, in some point. Because it’s inevitable. And I’m sure, that if he loves me for eternity, or if he breaks me forever, I won’t regret it; because I chose him and I allowed him to be a part of me. And that’s a choice I’m willing to make again.

Until then, I shouldn’t rush things. Rather, appreciate the company of myself, of my good friends, of my family,  and of the things that make me happy. And I’ll stay in love with the life that I have right now..with or without someone.

I loved the person I fell in love with. And I know he loved me, too. And so I thank him for allowing me to love him and because of him, I know the feeling of not just being in love, but also having that love thrown away–and I still loved him for that.