Rewind

If only life is like a movie played in front of us, we could push the rewind button to undo the things we did in the past. But, I'm too big to daydream about that. However we call it, "turn back time", "undo", "rewind", "make up", there's only one thing certain--- we want a chance.

So, this post could also be entitled as "Chance" for I will be talking about asking and getting a chance to make things right, to rewind...

Yesterday, I realized that I haven't written about him. That my blog, nor my notes have not mentioned any of him although he had been the subject of my poetry since then. Maybe, the reason why I changed the layout and design of this blog is because I want to start again. I want to write again not only when I'm depressed or heartbroken, but when I'm happy given this chance to be with him a little bit longer.

Having this chance is not only a chance for me to make it up with him, with all my shortcomings, lack of patience, and limitations such as my ability to understand. This chance is also for myself to create a clear path of who I want to be and what will I become after being honest with what I really want.

I'm glad he started his own blog Omertà , I always wanted him to write. But, honestly, his first post was quite embittering, and I was devastated... Yet, I still wish to read about his thoughts, ideas, opinions that he might not be able to share to me when we get a chance to talk.

Likewise, from now on, I'd like him to make this sanctuary of mine to be his window to my thoughts, as I always wanted him to see me more deeply, more than what his eyes can see...

Nothing to write about me

This morning isn't so great. I read a note from the person I tried to keep as a friend. Yes, only as a friend as he wanted us to be. (Well, I can't push too far from that. He already rejected me to the nth time.) The note says he always wanted to write something about me, and then later realized there was nothing he could write about me after the changes.

That felt like a solid blow in my chest! My eyes labored like stopping a dam to break. But, I was able to manage my sanity by applying what Sabum Nim Jun taught us---control of breathing.

I didn't ask him to write about me anyway; I didn't ask him to be a writer or even try to become one. But, he just did. He had just written a note about me. And, it's amazing how he was able to talk about me and us in a manner that made his writing effective as it piqued me impeccably.

Whatever the reason why I met this person, loved and hated fashionably at the same time, I only wish that we had more time. Like an essay writing exam, we had just started the introductory paragraph when the bell rang. Then, the teacher said, "Pass your paper, finished or not finished."

I'm only keeping my humor to minimize the pain. In the meantime, let me stay in this sanctuary until I recuperate.

Perhaps My Last Poetry

Sometimes, a river is not

enough

to water the seed we planted;

Sometimes, the sun is not

enough

to burn the fire we started;

Sometimes, the mountains are not

enough

to add weight to the "thing" we chose to carry,
which oftentimes we call relationship;

Sometimes, poetry is not

enough

to make a good love story;

Sometimes, I can never be

enough

for the one I chose to

love

and always end up

sorry;

But, I want you to know my

love

that you were always

enough

for me to live each day

happy.