Dear Future Love,

"I wrote you 365 letters. I wrote you everyday for a year."

I finished watching The Notebook tonight. I saw it coming but I never thought it could bring me to tears. I’m looking forward to movie nights with you, future love, where we’d just cuddle and laugh at each other as we cry watching flicks like this. Don’t worry, we’ll have comedy nights and other films you’d like to watch.

As I watch the film, the song Grow Old With You played in my head. Not because of the fact that they did grow old together, but because I realized that growing old together is not as happy as it used to sound in my head. By the time that our body fails us, we can no longer do the things that we used to do. Soon our memory will fail us as well. We’ll eventually forget. Or worse, illness will make us forget. Worst, illness will eventually separate us.

That is the most painful part of growing old; you’ll get hurt seeing each other wear out. You’ll get hurt seeing the other being consumed by old age. And I can’t imagine how I would take it if you were taken earlier and I will be left alone or vice versa.

Everyone says they want to grow old together, but I don’t want to. I don’t want to see you suffering and that there will be nothing I can do to ease your pain. I want our love to take us away together the same as it did to Noah and Allie.

My love, I want to be with you. The moment we’ll meet each other is the moment we stop being alone. We will grow old together. And our love will take us away together. Because you do not deserve to be left alone.


Darren Newman

"Daren Newman is an illustrator, typographer and designer raised and based in Manchester UK, who also works under the moniker of Me&MyPen.
 He has worked on a number of projects for global brands Absolut Vodka, Paul Smith (R.Newbold), Nike (Hurley) and Diesel amongst others, whilst his work has featured in publications such as New York Times, New York Magazine, Desktop Magazine, Woodtoy Quarterly and various typographic and illustration related books and blogs.”

It’s only you and me on the rooftop, drinking alcohol and juice, with the stars twinkling in the night sky. We had no other intentions but to catch up with each other’s lives and have fun but as the night goes deeper, as we drank further, the alcohol wiped away our inhibitions. We held hands and hugged. I felt your body against mine; our body heat against the cold wind. That night, we were more than friends but less than lovers.

Dear Bosconian,

You’re very much asleep right now but at the same time, you’re very much awake and running on my mind. I can’t make out why you don’t bother saying good night already and ending our late night calls when you badly need to get some descent sleep, but I’m not complaining.

I will never complain not getting enough sleep because we were both still up and talking at three in the morning. I will never complain being on the phone with you for hours and feeling like we haven’t really talked about anything at all. I will never complain on having/letting you consume a huge portion of my daily thoughts. I will settle for whatever time you have for me.

I will turn my night to day for you. I will lasso the sun back up and hide the moon among the trees. I will pick the stars and put them in a jar, so you can look at how they shine for you at any time of the day. If I can only make Time stop and disconfigure the time zones, I will, if it means having you 24/7 for 365 days.

I love you in such a way that not even time could measure. I love you in such a way that neither the darkness of the night nor the brightness of the day could explain. I love you in such a way that the combined height of the oceans and the depth of the mountains are baffled. I’m hanging from another cliff but I think I’ve fallen for you too soon, too many times already.

Thou shalt not judge a book by its movie.


Last summer, I have read the book ‘A Walk to Remember’ by Nicholas Sparks. I finished reading it in less than two days (I think, haha). And I find it weird but I did cry while reading the part where Landon found out that Jamie has a terminal disease and also THE walk to remember. I might not remember the story in great detail but from my point of view, the book was way much better than the movie.

I have seen the movie a week ago and the plot is different; same concept but different execution of idea. I was a bit disappointed because it was not what I read; and that was the first time I ever read a book that has a movie version already.


  • A lot was said about Jamie’s father
  • Landon’s pranks were never harmful
  • They somewhat regularly visit an orphanage
  • They never kissed until they got married (I think)
  • It was a Christmas play and Jamie played as an angel
  • Jamie gave Landon her mother’s bible and they read it together
  • Family conflicts arose upon knowing that Landon proposed to Jamie
  • Jamie could no longer walk normally as she made her way through the aisle


  • Jamie’s father doesn’t play a very important role
  • Landon’s pranks were a bit dangerous
  • They did a tutorial on kids
  • They always kiss
  • It was a Spring musical, Jamie as a singer
  • Jamie gave Landon her mother’s quote book
  • Nothing was said about their plan of marriage
  • Jamie was walking perfectly fine.

I just got really disappointed because a lot were changed, simply because they think the novel is old-fashioned and will not draw teenagers in the contemporary times. And it’s not just about the changes, maybe it is but the movie did not gave justice to its name. A WALK TO REMEMBER. How could one remember a girl walking down the aisle looking as if perfectly healthy? They should have kept the ending.Jamie’s slow and painful walk down the aisle is what made it A WALK TO REMEMBER.

Taken... taken for granted (part I)

You’ve been so strong for quite too long. I recognized the hurt when I looked in your deep brown eyes so it didn’t came as a surprise when I saw you break down a while ago, after all, I was the one who triggered it; I said it aloud. The situation made you vulnerable and I took it for granted.

As soon as I heard a bursting of cries, I immediately turned to you and hugged you as tight as I could. 

"No matter what happens today, I still love you," I whispered.

All you could do is sob. You broke down in front of people that you didn’t want to see you at your current state. I knew you had more tears to cry. You weren’t telling me everything.

"Would you like to go someplace else?"

You quickly nodded your head, composed yourself and stood up. I assisted you down from Vinzons Hill and we walked wherever our feet has taken us. We didn’t care about who saw us or what they thought of us. I got you carefully in my arms, protecting you like an infant.

Our feet took us to a familiar place, but a place we never shared before. It was a mixture of dream and reality. We sat along the staircase. You faced West and I faced North, parallel to you. The sun had its afternoon glow, not the type that burn one’s skin, but the type that makes you feel grateful for sunny days. The rays brought out the autumn red in your hair. 

I brushed your hair away from your face. I could see how tired your eyes are from crying. When we finally settled, you started crying again, letting out every heart ache you’ve had and every moment you were taken for granted. I never knew you were carrying such a heavy weight on your shoulders. I sat there, wishing I could carry half of the weight you’re carrying, but all I could do is lend an ear and hold you in my embrace. You should know how I sat there helplessly wanting to wipe every tear that fell from your eyes. How I wish I I could steal you away from the one who has your heart taken, and you, for granted.

Set You Free

It’s past midnight. I opened the faucet in the bathroom, eager to take a bath from all the sweating while I exercised. Suddenly I had the urge to listen to music while taking a long, cold bath. I grabbed my phone and put it on shuffle. I sang smoothly with the songs being played while feeling the coldness of the water through my skin to my bones. 

I was doing okay, really, until I heard the song that we danced to that night at the ball. I remembered that I  need to endure two whole weeks without you because you needed to go some place else. I remembered how you danced with her longer that night. I remembered she still loves you. I remembered the things that made me happy and hurt at the same time.

One step behind the other, and I was leaning my back to the wall. Finally, it was over. Our song was over. Or so I thought. ♪We often fool ourselves and say that it’s love…♪ The words hit me. This song, of letting go. ♪When we shared precious moments but later realized they were only stolen moments…♪ Nobody really knew that we were going out, not our friends, not even our parents. It’s as if we were breaking the law. ♪If loving you is all that means to me…♪ I found myself sitting, leaning against the wall. Tears flow unnoticed but I couldn’t fool myself. Not even the water from the shower could hide the tears. ♪…and being happy is all I hoped you’d be…♪ I do wish for you and me to be happy. We should be happy, but we aren’t because of her, your family, this secrecy we silently swore. ♪…then loving you must mean, I really have to set you free.♪ We have the right love in a very wrong time. I’ve been thinking a lot about giving up, about giving you up, and let destiny or fate do its job. ♪Letting go is not an easy task. When smiling feels like I must wear this lonely mask. It hurts deep inside and I just cannot hide that there’s anguish at the thought that we should have to part.♪

Perfect last dance.

The music stopped. The Ball was over. It was really over and you did not even ask me to dance. I feel like something inside of me is starting to break, something fragile is breaking into a million pieces. All I could ever think about is you dancing with her and not me; until I saw you in your coat and tie, making your way towards me. You asked me to dance but I softly replied that there was no more music to dance to. I can see the eagerness in your eyes. I pulled out my phone and played a familiar tune. My hands gently touched your shoulders as you hold my waist. Slowly, we danced to the beat of our hearts, drowning every possible worry into oblivion. 

May sariling panahon ang pag-ibig. Minsan, bigla kung dumating. Minsan, matagal bago maging akin. Madalas, hindi sinasadya. Madalas, hinihintay.  Pero sa pagmamahal, sa paghihintay, hanggang kailan ba ang sandali na lang?

"You’re not the same anymore. You changed."

"What do you mean I changed?"

"You don’t tell stories, laugh at my jokes, and cue in punch lines like you used to."

"Yeah, listen, I need to go. I have something to finish. I’m sorry. Good night"

I changed. He’s right. I don’t find him funny anymore. I’m not as thrilled whenever I get phone calls from him, in fact, I find it bothersome. I’m not as comfortable sparing my time to talk with him about nonsensical things like I used to.

He’s right. I changed. I finally opened my eyes that he will never go as far as dating me. I’m the friend he turns to when another girl ditches him. I’m the girl he looks for to tell stories of how he scored another chick that night. I’m the girl he would never get tired joking about our future and marriage but will not mean a single word.

Lonely nights forced me to change. He forced me to changed.

Dear you,

I want you to know that I really, really want to get to know you better but there’s a small part in me that doesn’t want to. I’m afraid that when I actually do get to know you, I’ll like you a little more than I should. 

But I want to know what’s the first thing that comes up in your mind when you wake up. I want to know how you pick your outfit for the day. I want to know why you don’t bother much with social networking sites. I want to exchange messages with you, from midnight til the crack of dawn. I want long, late night phone calls from you. I want to be the shoulder you can cry on and the hand you’ll be wanting to hold. I want lunch dates and sleep overs. I want to explore possibilities with you. And you’re one possibility I can’t wait to uncover.

Bottom line: Read the first three words of this letter.

For Quite Too Long*

Your deep brown eyes
Betray the mask you put on
You’ve been so strong
For quite too long

Your apple red lips
Forgot how to smile
What once was curve
Now a straight line

I know you are tired
And so is your heart
Be oblivious to time
Rest your hand on mine

Oh little angel
Take off your wings
I’ll embrace you tight
Dry your tears tonight

*Para kay AJ

Dalawangpu’t dalawang araw na ang nakalipas mula noong magsimula ang stand off sa Zamboanga. Dalawangpu’t dalawang araw itong nagpatuloy, at kanina ay inanunsyong tapos na ang kaguluhan roon. 

Iba’t ibang grupo at organisasyon ang nagtipun-tipon sa harap ng AS Steps upang makiisa sa paghiling ng kapayapaan para sa Zamboanga. Alam kong kabilang ang organisasyon natin doon pero hindi ko inakalang sasama ka noong hapong ‘yon. Palagi ka kasing busy.

Ilang tagapagsalita na ang lumipas nang pumasok sa isip kong katabi kita. Hinawakan ko ang kamay mo. Kasabay ng pagkaramdam ko sa malamig mong kamay ay ang pag-init ng pakiramdam ko. Bumilis ang tibok ng puso ko. Naalala ko kasi na hindi pa talaga tayo nagkaroon ng pagkakataon na pag-usapan ang nakaraan.

Pagsisindi na ng kandila ang sumunod sa programa. Matapos ng saglit na pagbitaw natin ng kamay ay inilayo kita sa mga tao. Kabadong-kabado ako dahil sa mga huling subok ko na kausapin ka ay isinasantabi mo lang ako.

"May gusto akong sabihin sa’yo," sinabi ko ito ng hindi binibitiwan ang kamay mo.

"Ano ‘yon?"

Matagal kong tiningnan ang mga mata mo ngunit hindi ko magawang sabihin ang nais kong sabihin kaya sinagot ko na lang ito ng "wala lang."

"Sige na, sabihin mo na. Tungkol ba ‘to sa nakaraan natin?"

Mukhang wala nang atrasan ‘to kaya inipon ko na ang lahat ng lakas ng loob na meron ako.

"Sorry… kasi nagkaroon ng panahon na hindi na ikaw yung nakikita ko. Ang nakita ko na lang ay ‘yong ginawa mo sakin noon at hindi ikaw."

Walang pakundangan ay niyakap mo ako. Ang yakap na iyon ang nagtanggal ng bigat sa puso ko na pitong buwan kong dinala. Pasensya na kung inabot ako ng pitong buwan para maamin ko sa sarili ko na nagpadala ako sa aking emosyon. Hayaan mo kong kilalanin ka ulit. Hayaan mong ipakilala ko ang bagong ako.

One Friday afternoon in the Arcellana Reading Room, I smelled of nicotine, and that’s how I knew you were already in the same room as I was. And so my eyes searched for you. It didn’t matter if I can’t take the smell of cigarette, what mattered to me is that was you.

And then you started telling stories, not forgetting to voice out your opinions and comments about Murakami. My eyes tend to focus on your lips when you tell your stories. I so want to kiss those lips. I could almost taste the menthol flavored cigarette you just had.

But I remembered that today was the last day I could see you. And this was my last chance. And I let it slip away.