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It’s a new day marked by the sun’s warm breeze

That slowly drifts in her room through the rainbow-tinted windows

She gently opens her eyes and quickly begins to have sweet fleeting thoughts of him

She wonders, also hopes and half-expects,

Do I have a message from him?

Knowing clearly well that a message meant he thought of her, too

And that he had greeted the day ahead with the same wish and hope that she had

She is not aware of it, but even before she had stood and gotten out bed

She had already decided on the kind of day she’ll have

Where a message meant the promise of the most wonderful day

And where none meant she’d rather not have stood and just slept the day away

This is how she lives

Day after day, after

Her happiness, her sadness, her life

All depending on the time and effort

He was willing to offer and give

So today, she reaches for her phone with great anticipation

Anxious and nervous

She reaches and struggles with her thumb

Unaware of the tragedy in her reality

How she relies on someone else for the inevitable

Happiness or sadness that’s yet to come.

If You Have Nothing Nice To Say…

Mom and I had our haircuts the other day.

While I was having mine, and mom was waiting for me, an elderly lady came in and started chatting up my stylist. When she noticed my very short hair (I now have a pixie with an undercut), she asked my mom, “Lalaki ba yang anak mo?“(Is your child a boy?) To which my mom politely replied, “Ay, babae po.” (Oh no. She’s a girl.) I heard what she asked despite the hair blower practically screaming at my ear, but I just gave her a smile.

When I was done, she sat next to me and promptly told my stylist she wants the same haircut as mine, but also quickly added, “Kasi may nanliligaw sa akin. Para di na niya ako ligawan. Ikaw, hija, hindi ka dapat nagpapagupit ng ganyan. Hindi ka naman pala tomboy. Ganda ka pa naman.” (Because I have a suitor, whom I want to stop pursuing me. You shouldn’t be having your hair cut that way if you want someone to pursue you. It’s a shame because you are pretty and not lesbian. Your hair shouldn’t be that short.)  I was stunned, but I didn’t say anything and just smiled. There are other battles that are more worth winning.

I am very adventurous when it comes to my hair, in fact right now, I am at my shortest cut, but that does not mean I am lesbian. I am straight. I appreciate women, but I like men. I know I don’t even have to declare or explain it. No one has to really, but sometimes, people have to be told. And so what if I am? A difference in preference does not make one less of a person.

We tend to do that, don’t we? We see a man who’s more refined compared to other men, “Bakla yan.” (He’s gay.) We see a woman with short hair, “Tomboy yan.(She’s a lesbian.) We see a person who just doesn’t smile or laugh as much as most of us, “Masama ugali niyan.” (He/She is a rude person.)

We are quick to judge. We are quick to isolate. We are quick to offend. We are quick to hurt. That’s just sad.

Personally, I don’t really care what people think of me.  Everyone is entitled to his opinion anyway. I’d just like to believe I am now wise enough to know that not all opinions are important.

Alternatives

 

I often find myself staring out my window

I see worlds, different worlds
Worlds I am in.

In one world  I’m a writer, a poet
I own a preschool filled with four or five year olds
I am a lover, a wife, a mother.
I seem happy; I look content.

But that world quickly disappears.
Replaced by Rome, Paris, and some exotic island isolated from all the chaos of the city
I am moving a lot, always
I cannot seem to stay put, yet that seems fine, okay
It’s how I want it, it seems
Exploring, discovering, immersing myself wherever I may be.

That world quickly dissolves, too.
Into the world I am currently in — looking out my window
Surviving, thriving, living each day in the normalcy that I know, what I’ve accepted
My eyes are filled with hopes, wishes, and dreams
That are yet to be fulfilled, or may be never.

Three different worlds
Full of wants, needs, and what-could-be’s
Which do I pick
Where do I live
Which do I leave and never again be in.