Unfolding

11 years ago. . . I look back. I smiled. I found my world in an unlikely place. Heart sparked. Heart kindled. Heart learned to open for a soul to rest. Your eyes. Your smile. Those pair of smooth limbs to hold beside a jeepney ride. The touch. The kiss. The embrace that warmed a cold rainy day. Holding your hand. Smelling your hair. Keeping you up close calmed my riot. Getting to know each other. Soothing curiosities with openness. Jokes and laughter made days brighter. Struggled for recognition. Struggled for acceptance. Like a movie, where love must be fought for. The places we went. The time we shared. Our heartaches deposited in each other’s caring ears. To survive, to thrive, a world to face while keeping each other tight. We fought. We shook our fragile new bond. We worked hard to stay. New. Vigor. La energia de amor. 11 years ago.    

  Too many events lately squeezed my life dry. Different forms of loss plagued my 31 st year of existence. I had renewed hopes and strength to carry myself into finishing my graduate studies, but instead of all emotions set for a grueling reading and writing, my being was swallowed into a deep sorrow that shattered my core. Plus, I have to extend effort to shield myself from distraught as I need all the sanity to function well in front of my colleagues, and most of all, to my students. I am used to broken glasses, cigarette smell, and alcoholic rage growing up as a child, and maybe the next worse thing that could happen to me will be at gun point; however, the sadness I now have is a bullet wound. When I am idle, I cannot read, I cannot look at the letters in silence as memories, events, stories, and recent affairs all come rushing down like floodwater from a broken dam. It even took me awhile to gather wits to write this short note. Songs begin to hurt. I used to jam even to the