Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Love is...

Love is an understanding that is so complete
that you feel as if you are a part of the other person
accepting the person just the way they are
and not trying to change them to be something else
Love is the source of unity
Love is the freedom to pursue your own desires
while sharing your experiences with the other person
the growth of the one individual alongside of
and together with the growth of another individual
Love is the source of success
Love is the excitement of planning things together
the excitement of doing things together
Love is the source of the future
Love is the fury of the storm
the calm in the rainbow
Love is the source of passion
Love is giving and taking in a daily situation
being patient with each other's needs and desires
Love is the source of sharing
Love is knowing that the person will always be with you
regardless of what happens
missing the other person when they are away
but remaining near in heart at all times
Love is the source of security
Love is the source of life.
(athour's name to follow)
-kacie-

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

yOu fiRst beLievEd




How many times did I pray you'd find me...
How many wishes on a star,
Gazing off into the dark
Dreaming I'd see your face
Safe at home unafraid,
Captured in your embrace.

So many times when my heart was broken,
Visions of you would keep me strong.
You were with me all along,
Guiding my every step.
You are all that I am
And I'll never forget.

It was you, who first believed
In all that I was made to be.
It was you, looking in my eyes.
You held my hand and showed me life.
And I've never been the same,
Since you first believed.

There were times when I thought I'd lost you,
Fearing forever was a dream.
But it wasn't what it seemed,
Placing your hand in mine,
You could see in the dark,
You were guiding my heart.

It was you, who first believed
In all that I was made to be.
It was you, looking in my eyes.
You held my hand and showed me life.
And I've never been the same,
Since you first believed.

It was you, who first believed
In all that I was made to be.
It was you, looking in my eyes.
You held my hand and you showed me life.
And I've never been the same,
Since you first believed.

How many times did I pray you'd find me...

How many wishes on a star..


a song that has always touched my heart. someone believed in me, looked into my eyes,
held my hand and showed me life.
even if you were the one who made my heart broken, still vision of you would keep me strong...believing that one day we'll be together again...believing that you would always love me the way i have loved you...believing and clinging on to your promises that you'd be back for me...to me...
i still hope to see your face when i wake up.
i still hope of having that embrace one more time.
i thought i lost you and i feared that forever between us would be just a dream...still i'm scared that what we had is over.
i'm still hoping, still waiting, still loving.

-kacie-



Monday, December 17, 2007

to be wiTh yOu oNce again


When you waved goodbye
I felt my world would fall apart
and after that lonely and dull moment
all i can do is wait... and wait...
goodbye... the word i hate so much to hear
letting you go is the thing i can't do
tears are falling from my eyes
oh i was really hurt deep inside
you promised me that you will stay
and that you will love me always
that you will never let go no matter what
and that you will save your heart just for me
and so i waited... and waited...
then my prayers were answered
i guess I'm not dreaming anymore
you are now in front of me
whispering words so sweetly
to be with you once again
is the moment I've been waiting for
and now that you're here with me
I'll never let you go anymore!


-kacie-

Salamat (Thank You) (12:49:03 am, 09 Jan 2007)

saamat sa'yo
salamat sa oras
salamat sa panahon
sa pagdating mo at pagbibigay ng kulay sa buhay ko
salalmat sa mga tawanan at iyakang pinagsaluhan
sa mga sandali ding tayo'y nagbabangayan
salamat sa pagpaparamdam sa akin kahit sandali na ako'y minahal mo at sayo'y naging mahalaga rin
salamat sa paglalagay ng mga ngiti sa aking mga labi
sa mga sandaling ang aking mga luha'y nangingilid
salamat dahil minsan ay dumaan ka sa buhay ko
kahit sa pag-alis mo'y tangay mo na ang aking sugatang puso

this is for a guy who taught me the real meaning of love and selflessness
he was once mine but not anymore, he belongs to someone, a lucky young lady.. for she has him...wherever he is right now, i hope he'll be safe always, i've loved him so much and i'll always will..i'll still wait for him to come back to me as he promised more than a couple of years ago..i've always believed in whatever he said and i'll always will..no matter how long it'll take, i'll wait for him .. i hope he gets to read this so that he'll know that i'm still waiting..
if this poem reaches him and he would be able to read it, that would mean that we're meant for each other...i hope he does read this someday..
PRETZEL and no. 8 adarna st., dizon subd.?????


-kacie-

From A Corner of Baguio City

Whenever I go to this place, I have to ride a Trancoville-Plaza jeepney. It passes through Harrison Road and Magsaysay Avenue. I would then get off the jeepney when I reach the fly-over going to La Trinidad. After crossing the two two-way streets, I would reach Adarna St. of Dizon Subdivision. From there, I would take around 200 steps to get in front of a brown grilled gate with a number eight on its side. Behind this gate is a three-storey, two-unit apartment with an off-white-painted body and green roof. The first and second floors are parts of the first unit and the third floor is another separate unit which has a separate entrance located at the side. I need not knock on the door anymore. I just enter the unit and there, an unusual living room appears before me—an empty, unfurnished living room with just a two-pane window and a mirror hanging on the wall. There’s this brown wooden stair leading to the second floor. On top of the stairs is a wooden harang to keep people from accidentally falling down the stairs. Facing the stairs is a mini refrigerator. Beside the refrigerator on the right side is the sink where a few used plates are still unwashed. Beside the sink is a plate organizer with only a few plates, and just in front of the organizer is a two-burner stove positioned sideward. Above it are three kitchen cabinets with other kitchen utensils inside. Beside the stove are the door of the restroom and another door of one of the three rooms in the unit. Two young ladies occupy that room—Mara and Ate Pate. To my left, a living-dining room appears. There’s an old television, a square monobloc table covered with a red table cloth, a few monobloc chairs, and a window with a peach-colored curtain. There are two other bedrooms. The room just beside the stairs is the room of Kuya Joey and Kuya Angel and the room adjacent to it is the room of Don and his older brother, Kuya Gel. Actually, Mara, Ate Pate, and Kuya Joey, Don, and Kuya Gel are cousins and Kuya Angel is Kuya Gel’s very close friend. I first went to that unit on June 8, 2005, Wednesday, with Don, who was my boyfriend at the time. I can still remember how hard the rain was on that day. When we got into the house, he introduced me to Kuya Angel who was the only person there at that time. Don and I had tocino and canned tuna for dinner, and went to bed at pass nine in the evening to sleep. The next day, I woke up beside a tall, chinito, and young man—this young man that I loved truly for the first time. It has become a part of my everyday life to go there especially when I have a lot of vacant time. Whenever he would take me to their apartment, our tambayan would be in their room, and there we would spend the rest of the time watching the television or just chatting about what happened to us that day. I sometimes sleep and often spend my weekends there with him and his brother and their cousins. Because of that I became a part of their family already. Whenever we were together, I would cook for him, we would do our school work together, clean their room which was most of the time a bit messy, and do our favorite pastime—eating. At night, before we go to sleep, it was our “ritual” to look outside the window beside his bed. From there we could both see the lights of the houses and buildings in the city. The tall buildings of the University of Baguio and Saint Louis University were also visible from that point. It was the best view I have ever seen since I came to Baguio. It was a very beautiful view that Don and I shared together from that spot of their apartment. That house saw how my 16th birthday celebration on the 22nd of June 2005 was spent, how I took care of him when he got sick for almost a week, how we worked hard to finish his Chemistry project, how he gently caressed my hair before we slept, how he pinched my cheeks after having tasted the food that I have cooked for him, how he hugged me so tight every time that I arrived there, how he whispered “Goodnight wifey…I love you,” when I was about to sleep. I was so overwhelmed by these experiences that I didn’t think our relationship would have an end. We both felt so secure with each other that the thought of having problems didn’t ever occur to us. Since we became lovers on May 18, 2005, we only had small fights which were just normal in a relationship, konting tampuhan as they say. But then, not every love story goes smoothly forever I guess. Even before when we were still friends, I already knew that he would be going to Spain, where his parents were working, sometime in November 2005. His flight was scheduled on the 18th of November. We were together for the last time on November 4-5 at their apartment with Kuya Gel and his girlfriend, Ate Lhai. Sadness and fear filled the atmosphere of the house. On the night of November 4, Don and I were talking in their room about how it was going to be once he’s already in Spain. We were both crying at that time. He promised me a lot of times that he would be back by May 2006. I didn’t want that night to end because I knew that that would be the last time that I would be with him. I was staring at his face, memorizing every detail of it. Although his eyes were wet because of crying, it still looked a lot like the eyes of Rain, the Korean actor/singer. His nose also looked like the nose of Rain. His lips were pinkish, though a little darker than the usual pink that we know. We almost didn’t sleep that night. We just wanted to talk while we looked outside the window and stared at the usual view that we were always staring at. The next day at around four o’clock in the afternoon, both of us had to go to the lowlands already—Don to their house in San Manuel, Pangasinan and I to my uncle’s house in La Union. Before we went out the house, I went back to their room to take a last look. I couldn’t stop myself from crying the moment I had a last look at the window beside his bed. I wasn’t sure at that time if I would be able to see the beauty of Baguio at night through that window again. I then closed the door of the room and had a glimpse of the entire second floor of the apartment—the monobloc table where we used to eat our meals, the stove where I would always cook his favorite foods, the sink that was always untidy, and the refrigerator that I once cleaned up because it was becoming so dirty and stinky. That was the last time I laid my eyes on that house.Then Don flew to Spain on November 18. From that day, when he flew to Spain, I lost communication with him already. I didn’t know what happened to the promises he made and to the love that we shared together. Until now, I still can’t get over him. I still have no idea on how could I ever forget the times we spent together, most of them in their apartment. That house that I used to go to may seem to be just an ordinary house when seen from an elevated portion of New Lucban. Jeepneys and cabs may just be passing in front of it. Different kinds of people for sure are to occupy that house as long as it stands there. That house was witness to a love that was pure and true. It was where I once experienced how to be loved purely and faithfully. It was wherein once in my life, someone made me feel special and loved. That house became a witness to the ups and downs in our relationship. It was where we started dreaming and planning our future. It was where we had tons of laughter and tears together. Nowadays, whenever I go to the veranda of SM Baguio and see the big area of trees near Quirino Hill and Dreamland, I know, just below that area is that house—full of cherished memories and unforgettable scenes that have stayed in my mind and heart. Until now, I still can’t go back there because of what happened. Once in my life, going there was a part of my daily routine, but now, going there means recalling every single memory and event that Don and I both knew, which just makes me once again feel the pain that I felt on the day he flew to Spain. I still love him as much as I loved him before he left. I think I’ll always feel that way towards him. I’m still hoping that I could be with Don to continue the love that we once shared together the next time I visit that house on #8 Adarna St., Dizon Subdivision, Magsaysay Avenue, Baguio City.

-kacie-

An Essay About Mom

I was nervous. I waited patiently for her to arrive while I sat beside my grandmother. I was staring at my picture in a frame when I was just a baby placed on top of the television rack when a tall, voluptuous, and 48-year old woman with a fair complexion and light-brown colored wavy hair came inside the house. She was wearing a blue razor-back top, a fitted jeans, two-inch stiletto, and a black pair of sunglass on top of her head.I wasn’t convinced that she was my mother. You see, I haven’t seen her since I was a baby until that day, June 18, 2006 and until then, I was totally clueless on how she looked like. Aside from that fact, I looked exactly her opposite. I’m not tall, I’m chubby, and I never had the guts to wear what she was wearing.As far as I knew, she went away and she never came back to see me. Since then, I planned to look for her when time comes that I would be able to do so. And I started doing it when I was 14.I searched for her and just when I was a fresh sophomore at the University of the Philippines Baguio, my blocmate, who was from Nueva Ecija, told me that her mother was my mother’s sister’s friend. My blocmate gave my cellphone number to them, they texted me, and we planned how my mother and I would meet. My father did not know anything about it then.Actually, I was the one who went to Nueva Ecija from Baguio to see her—just to take a look at this Melicia del Rosario Leonardo whose name I got from my birth certificate. I always wanted to know how the woman who gave birth to me looked like, or if I looked like her.She hugged me and we spent the rest of the day at the mall with my new-found cousins. She left us later in the afternoon because she needed to do, which she said, something important. So that night, I waited for her to arrive while I lay down on her bed. She arrived at around 3 o’clock in the morning.She lay down beside me and started talking to me about her past life as Mrs. Melicia Camacho—how she and my father met, how their life was when they were still together, and why they got separated. I listened to her even though I was really sleepy at the time. I wanted to hear from her.I fell asleep as she was caressing my hair for the first time. It felt so good to feel a mother’s touch. I felt complete and contented for the first time.The next day, I had to go back to Baguio. Before I left, she promised to be on my birthday. She gave me P2, 500 and accompanied me and my cousin, who was also studying in Baguio, to the van terminal.I didn’t feel sad as I left my birthplace because I was assured that my mother would be with me on my birthday. Then I reached Baguio and waited for my birthday to come.I was happy when I woke up on June 22 because I was expecting my mother to be with me on that special day. But the day ended without her, and without even a text message.Days went by and I didn’t hear anything from her again. She never came to visit me in Baguio. I felt hopeless. I wished I didn’t spend the money she gave me so that I could have a remembrance of her.The day I left Nueva Ecija was the last time I laid my eyes on her. I never wanted to go back to Baguio then, but I needed to. If only I was given more time to be with her, maybe I would be able to know her more.Until now I’m still hoping that she would at least visit me. I never had her love and I know I will never have it ever. She already has the chance to show and give it to me if she really wants to but I guess she just don’t want to be my mother anymore, or she just don’t want me to be her daughter.I didn’t feel any hatred or anger for her before, but now, I already do. No one can blame me. I tried not to feel it but she made me feel it.Forever, I will be this child who’s always ignorant about a mother’s love and what a family really is. I never had a complete one. I will never have.

-kacie-