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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.

Squirrel

Picture this: You’re on your usual quiet morning. It’s 10AM, and you’re already either busy with work or still ogling over the latest news on the internet.

Then in comes one of your workmates. There’s a distance between you and the office entrance, but you’re sure that workmate has arrived because she just greeted the office security with a “Good morning!” at the top of her voice, which reminds you of the same amount of cheer a preschool teacher greets five year olds. Workmate does this to everyone she passes by on her way to her desk — you included, except after she greets you, she lingers by your desk for some chit-chat about her commute to work this morning — every morning, and why she came in late today — and every day. She engages you in a conversation, which you accept out of courtesy because you just don’t have it in you to burst her bubble this early in the day.

Somehow that conversation ends, and she heads on to her desk greeting more people before she finally takes a seat. You, on the other hand, continue on with work (or your browsing), thinking you’re done with her chattiness for now, knowing fully well though, that the day has just begun, and the worst is yet to come.

Sometime in the day, not long after your first encounter, while you have your nose buried in all the paper work, a weird feeling of someone or something hovering over interrupts you. So you slowly, cautiously lift your head to see — there she is, trying to keep herself from giggling — almost as though hovering over you just as you suspected. This creeps you out, and you let her know, but she doesn’t care because she goes on engaging you again on yet another senseless conversation. The conversations are fine, you can probably look past that. Probably. But it’s more than the conversations, it’s the time both of you spend on it; it’s her loud voice —the kind that even her whispers sound like it’s coming from a megaphone; and it’s the animated way she tells her stories — complete with body gestures, yes, body gestures with her arms flying all over the place. It’s a whole show, and it’s a show she enjoys performing in.

This annoys you because although you’re an outgoing person and enjoy the once in a while mingling and socializing, you do value your ‘alone time’. And when it calls for that, you need people to understand, know, recognize, and acknowledge personal boundaries. This one particular workmate though is not capable of that, you feel. You’re tempted, every single time she comes to you, to tell her to back off or at least take a step back, but you don’t because you know it will offend her — terribly.

It’s quite a pickle you’re in, huh? This is your reality every day, at least at work, or when that particular workmate is around.

Your workmate oddly reminds you of a cartoon squirrel. The kind with two large front teeth, always munching on a nut, always lurking around, always with a seemingly crazy annoying smile on her face. And like a cartoon squirrel, oddly too, and admittedly, workmate’s demeanour annoys the heck out of you, but not in the way that would make you want to throw a shoe at her at every single encounter. She’s annoying, but not that annoying.

If you were both cartoon characters, workmate would be Dee-Dee from Dexter’s Laboratory, and you would be Daria (or if Daria’s too much, maybe Eeyore). You’re not just from different cartoons series, but you also do not (and should never be) in the same one. You’re just too opposite; and no, unlike what Paula Adbul believes in, opposites do not always attract.

Actually, come to think of it, in your case, opposites do attract because why else would workmate always ‘squirrel around’ you in the first place, right?

Point is, things — your work world (at least between you and workmate) would be a much better place if workmate just knew where to draw the line and actually acknowledge it.

That, or if you just had more patience in you than you have now. More patience to understand that not everyone’s as introverted as you are. And some people, like workmate, are just naturally harmless squirrels. 



Darling

 

Through the darkest and murkiest of paths

Even and especially through powerful wind and rain

And the highest hikes up a sharp-edged mountain

No matter how impossible to cross and bear

Darling, we held onto each other’s hand tightly

We made each other strong – – – stronger than before

We gave each other courage – – – looking forward to each day and all its challenges

Darling, it’s never easy, but all are worthwhile with you beside me

I promise you now the same promise I gave before

To continue to be stronger when you are weak and tired

To continue to protect when you are faced with danger

To vow to always love and never let you go

To never leave your side and face every day together – – – forever and ever.

A Love Letter

I’ve never really had a proper Valentine’s Day with a significant other. Over the years, it has become significant to me for the wrong reasons: I broke up with two ex-boyfriends on two separate Valentine’s Day. One, on the day itself, and the other, a day after. I don’t really dislike the occasion, and I did what I did with my ex-boyfriends because of immaturity and lack of good timing. I have nothing against Valentine’s Day. I just have not had a good one, I guess. Sadly.

It doesn’t mean I don’t or have never cared for it though. I remember in my childhood, I would make big and small cut-out hearts from red art paper – – – the kind they teach in preschool, but a habit I carried with me until I was in college. The heart-shaped paper cut-outs would always be filled with my notes of love and thanks, which I then decorated further with more hearts and sometimes, hearts with arrows drawn across. Those hearts I’d give to close classmate friends, while the big ones, I gave to mom and dad.

My parents will be celebrating their 42nd anniversary in June. Theirs has never been the perfect union. There had been fights – – – small and terrible ones, there had been so much tears shed, and words that should not have been uttered or thought of, and there had been times when I thought they would be separating. I am so thankful they didn’t, and they never will. In fact, it was the struggles, the problems, and obstacles that made them and their union even stronger – – – that made them love each more. They held on and stuck it out despite all the struggles because of their love for us, their love for each other, and their love for the Lord.

Love. Just a couple of days ago, when dad had to undergo his prostate procedure, I witnessed yet again how strong their love is. I saw them hold each other’s hand as they prayed. I saw how mom refused to leave dad’s side as he was prepared for the procedure. I witnessed their anxieties and fear of the possibility of not being with each other anymore. I teared up at the sight of them, keeping each other in a tight embrace with the most relief and indescribable joy after being reunited again. They spent just a few hours apart, but it seemed like the longest few hours for them. A love that binds and strengthens – – – that’s what my parents have.

And that is perhaps why, despite not having an unforgettable or remarkable Valentine’s Day (yet) of my own to share, I continue to celebrate it. And why not, when I have become witness to just how great, how nurturing, how strong, and how courageous love can be – – – through my parents.

 

‘Ling (For Mom and Dad)

Through the darkest and murkiest of paths

Even and especially through powerful wind and rain

And the highest hikes up a sharp-edged mountain

No matter how impossible to cross and bear

Darling, we held onto each other’s hand tightly

We made each other strong – – – stronger than before

We gave each other courage – – – looking forward to each day and all its challenges

Darling, it’s never easy, but all are worthwhile with you beside me

I promise you now the same promise I gave before

To continue to be stronger when you are weak and tired

To continue to protect when you are faced with danger

To vow to always love and never let you go

To never leave your side and face every day together – – – forever and ever.

 

Blindfolded Cupid

Aim that arrow at me now

Hit me right on target

And make me bow

Cast your love spell

Break this shell

Make me fall in love

And help me get out of this dark miserable well.

Then aim that arrow at him now

Hit him right on target

And make him bow

Pave the way for us to see

That we were meant to be together

— him and me.

Enchant

Heart beats faster,

A ready smile always on my face,

Adding an extra spring in my usual pace.

Amazing power one person has

In providing me the solace I need.

The spell you have on me,

The magic that you bring

I drown in the feeling —

Oh, love…

I love at your bidding.

Re-Vision

I used my lunch break to walk around our building and get a breath of fresh air. And fresh air I got, at least for the first few minutes, right before I was chanced upon by one of the office’s legal officers. His concern was simple, but fairly old to me. He finds it “off” how their drafts are being edited, “over and over”. I felt that saying drafts are being edited “over and over” is an exaggeration, but I tried my best to explain and appease him. I, however, was not really given much chance to do that, so nothing was clarified or resolved in that encounter. Too bad.

Some people were not really very welcoming and happy with the idea that someone is tasked to edit or proofread their works. It does not help either that this someone has no Law background, whatsoever. I have found myself a subject of legal officers’ ire and complaints, and to a point, one of the people (reasons) they actually held rallies for. Thus has been the case since I started work here, and this is even after it was explained and agreed upon why someone like me had to be hired in the first place.

Their lack of acceptance makes my job a bit difficult, for whatever I do, no matter how great I am at what I do, there will always be some people who will despise me for it, and even curse the day they met me.

I understand the resentment though. To most after all, it is difficult to receive and take criticisms; to be corrected, particularly by someone, whom you may feel, is inferior to you. I understand that much, so I go through every day with much caution and an open mind, but I still do my job, and every day, make sure I do it well, regardless of the hate I’ve been getting.

But do we honestly have to take every single criticism, every bit of correction negatively? Shouldn’t we take these as opportunities for growth and learning instead? If there was acceptance, wouldn’t that be a much better place to live in — filled with butterflies, flowers, and unicorns? Dream on, girl.

I go through every day with a fervid hope that one of these days, these people will realize that what I do is merely my job; that nothing should be taken personally, and that at the end of the day, we are all in this as a team with a common goal which is to speed up the resolution of cases without compromising quality for our clientele, the farmers.

I hope for that much, not exactly a world filled with just the good stuff, but at least, respect and a bit of consideration — acceptance and being one.

Oh well. Next time, I’m going to think twice about walking around our building. Or at least, do my lunch break reflection and walk on some other area.

C’est la vie.