Conditionals

If I stop wishing, this ends.

If I stop talking to you, you probably won't care.
If I were her, I wouldn't be as sad.
But, if I had stopped dreaming, I would've lost the dream
                                                                  the wish
                                                                  the prayer I fervently ask for
                                                                                                         but I didn't think
                                                                                                                         or stop
                                                                                                                         or pause.
If only I had stopped waiting, I wouldn't be here thinking of you
I'd be without you.

If I stopped, you wouldn't have noticed anyway.

***

If I say I'm ready, nothing changes.

If I say I'm ready, you probably won't believe me.

If I were her, I wouldn't be as lost.

Yes, if I had been ready, I would've told you
                                                         and her
                                                         and him
                                                         and everyone else in the world
                                                                                            but I'm not brave
                                                                                                             or honest
                                                                                                             or even sure.
If only I had been more sure, I wouldn't be here just thinking of you
I'd be with you.

If I were ready, you wouldn't have noticed anyway.

**

If I go fight for you, everything transforms.

If I go fight for you, you probably won't let me win.

If I were her, I wouldn't be as mad.

And, if I had gone and faced the music, I would've held your hand

                                                                               your face

                                                                               your gaze

                                                                               your heart with such tenderness

                                                                                                               but I didn't think

                                                                                                                       was not sure

                                                                                                                       pretended.

Pretended.

I didn't want you.

If only I had gone and braved the waters, I wouldn't be here just thinking of you

You'd be thinking of me too.

If I did fight for you, would you have even noticed?

Would you have even believed?

Would you have even cared?

*

Would I have ever won?

For if I weren't such a fool, I would've realized that my heart truly belongs to you.

IDA Day!

Today marks Ida's first day in our company. Of course, we weren't as close back then but it doesn't really matter. In my calendar, today is IDA (Ida Deserves Appreciation) Day! To show my love to the REAL evil twin, here's a poem*:

Whoever thought that we'd be this close?

Two unlikely friends, more likely to be foes!

Let's shout and celebrate; let us all cheer

For it has been a year, Idapot, my dear!

Yes, it has been a year since your bag from Davao

Made me smile and coo and go "Oh, wow!"

And it has been a year since I gave you cake

To bribe you "for a trivia point's sake."

Christmas came and Christmas passed,

Who'd ever thought our friendship would last?

We met new people and the gang grew bigger

Yet our bond grew stronger, stronger and stronger.

And, ever since, you have always been there

To remind me of my importance, to show that you care.

You were there during my best and my worst days

To make me feel special in so many ways.

Ha, who'd ever think we'd be as close as we are now

And stomach each other's differences somehow:

How cute you can giggle when I cackle like a witch,

How outgoing I can be when pleasantries you ditch?

Sometimes I really wonder how this works

Our friendship, I mean, with all our contrastive quirks.

Though one thing is for sure, I think:

We can talk for days, even eras, 'til we stink!

So I wrote this to say that I'm really happy

That I'm your friend, though you can be, er, bitchy.

And, for the record, what you keep on saying is true:

Great things happen to people who listen to you.

Yes, it has been a year, Idapot, my dear,

And everything has been far from sere.

But I know I can go through all things thick and thin

As long as I have the love of my twin. :)

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, IDAPOT!

I am so glad you're in my life! :)

(Sounds just a tad bit wrong...LOL #PervinizedMind)

*I claim poetic license so this poem is error-free. I don't even know if "claim" is the right word to use in my previous sentence. Sorry, Ida. We both know we lack sleep today/tonight.

The Only One

Lately, I haven't felt like writing anything. So, instead, I am posting this picture. It says a lot about how I feel, actually.

Oh, and what exactly is it that I'm feeling? It's for me to know and for you to find out. :)

Who the hell are you?

Tell me, who the hell are you?

Because I've been waiting. I think I've been waiting since I watched that Disney movie about that Native American princess who fell in love with this Englishman. Okay, fine, maybe not. I was just five years old then, anyway. But I remember sighing and feeling all happy as the wind blows on her face, whipping her jet-black hair in such perfection. (Take note that never did those strands of hair obscure the Englishman's view of her face. And not once did she accidentally feed him with her long, silky hair, too, despite the wind blowing almost every time they hold hands or kiss or whatever.) I think my fascination with true love started the moment they waved good-bye. She, on her cliff, with the ever-faithful wind to make her even more stunningly beautiful. He, on his ship, with a sling on his arm and an equally handsome face. At such a young age, I realized that it doesn't matter if you have absolutely nothing in common, can't even speak the same language, are ignorant of each other's culture or have peers/families/tribes/troops/etc who hate each other. As long as you are in love, and you're willing to work it out, you'd always have each other, no matter how far apart you are. Nothing is impossible when it comes to love and being in love.

I cried at the end of the movie. I still cry every time I watch it. (Never mind that the sequel sucked big time. I refuse to believe that my childhood is ruined because of a poor, direct-to-video sequel.)

I grew up a bit and started waiting, not for you per se, but for that perfect moment. You know, and as corny as it sounds, girls really do wish that they'd have that "movie moment": a kiss under the rain, a very public profession of undying love on the streets with a bunch of flowers at hand, or maybe even a flash mob dance. I did. I still do. I have loads, actually. And for the longest time, seizing that moment meant falling in love and actions spoke louder without words. But I've had tons of these moments over the past years with a few frogs and even fewer princes who did a lot and explained nothing. Thus, I learned (the hard way, unfortunately, as usual) that the person you spend that moment with is indeed of utmost importance.

So, where the hell are you? Because I've been waiting. And waiting...and waiting some more. There were times that I thought I've found you, only to find out that you're not him and you're still hiding from me, you sly devil, you. See, the games that you play...they're very confusing. They're like mystery games, only you forgot to leave some clues. So, now, I am lost and I am just waiting for you to show up, take my hand and hug me, laughing, saying that it was all a cruel joke and it's over now...that you're here now and nobody's going to trick me ever again. How I long to see your face (the real you, please and thankyouverymuch), to smile at you and to sing all those love songs I've listened to over the years, thinking of you, thinking of the time I'd eventually spend with you, thinking of how I'd eventually spend my life with you.

Back to the real question, though: who are you, really? Will I know that it's you when I first see you? Or will I first hate you then eventually fall in love with you? Are you a complete stranger to me right now? Or have I met you before? Or are you -- pause for the needed dramatic effect -- a friend! Oh, how oblivious am I of your existence! Or perhaps you don't even know that you're my you. I wonder when fate would bring us together. Fate will eventually get tired of us and just let us be...

...right?

It's funny how I am asking you these questions when, right now, you probably don't know the answers, too. Right now, you're probably snoring in your bed or working your ass off or studying or paragliding...or perhaps thinking of me, too. Who knows? Who cares? Well, I mean, who cares but us, anyway? Oh, and you might be in someone else's arms right now, too (yes, we can't discount that possibility), but I don't mind. For now, I shall try to be better, be more beautiful and be the most wonderful person I can be. And why not? I don't want to end up losing when you start comparing me to your women. I hate losing. I can be very competitive. You'd probably know that soon enough (and I sort of expect you to accept it, too.)

And so I'll stop asking these stupid, pointless questions now and daydream some more. And, one day, when you finally, finally decide to show yourself and end this painful waiting game, I'm going to let you read this piece and we're going to laugh at it, like an old inside joke we've shared for years. And then, I'm going to tell you...