Category Archives: Story

addressing the end (part three)

He gazed his teary eyes into hers as he finally admitted his long-standing feelings.  He never imagined when or how he would eventually tell her that fact, but here it is.  All that previously mattered to him was that he showed her what she meant to him; and how he would treat her if given the chance.  But his respect for her on-and-off relationship with her boyfriend kept him from telling her everything.  He did not want to be the one who “stole” her away despite the numerous opportunities that presented itself; he wanted to earn her love.

“I didn’t want to lose whatever we had, despite my condition,” he managed to continue as he slowly held her arms.  “For sure, things would’ve been different if…  if I told you.  And besides, you’re with him.  You love him.  Despite the arguments, the fights you two had, I can see that you still do love him.  And I wouldn’t want to jeopardize that.  Most people wouldn’t understand why, but I get it.  I know how you feel.  For my part, I just wanted to constantly see you smile, and I’d do anything, everything to make sure that you do.”  She was still reeling at the thought of him having feelings for her.  It did cross her mind on some occasions, but with him knowing all too well of her current relationship, she wouldn’t–didn’t–take it as something serious.

“Does anyone else here know about…  you know, what you feel?”  she finally asked him.

“I suppose so,” he replied.  “Some people have been telling me how obvious I am when it comes to you; and honestly, they actually thought you knew too but just didn’t pay any attention to it.”

“But still, why didn’t you tell me about your condition?” she then asked as she tried to piece two and two together.

“It’s just like what I said with everyone earlier.  I didn’t want to be treated or looked at differently,” he answered.  “Believe me, I wanted you to be the first one outside of my family to know.  But tell me, if I did tell you, would you have looked at me, or treated me any different?”

“God, of course!  This is your life we’re talking about!”

“See, that’s what I don’t want.  Sure, I would’ve gotten more attention from you–which would’ve been great and all–but it won’t be quite real because both of us know for a fact that one day soon, it’ll all be over because I’ll be…  gone.  I’d rather have the real you, not the one who would increasingly care for me just because my days are numbered.”  He was pacing around, trying to make her understand his point of view about the kind of relationship with her he preferred, not wanted.

He sat on the table so his eyes were at level with hers while she stood as he looked at her intently.  “All that matters to me right now is you,” he continued.  “I know you don’t feel the same way, and I understand that.  But I want to spend whatever time I have left to make you feel happy whenever you’re not; to be there for you whenever you’re alone; to listen to you when no one else does; to hug you whenever you feel down; and to love you from afar…  just like before.”

He was barely able to finish what he was saying when he felt a sharp pain on his side.  He winced in pain as his hand grabbed his ribs in a reflex to what he felt.  “What’s wrong?  Are you okay?” she asked as she tried to frantically understand what was going on.  “I…  don’t know…”  was all he could muster to answer as the pain’s intensity slowly rose.  He struggled to stand up as she tried to place his free arm on her shoulder.

“No…  don’t bother,” he said, stuttering, realizing what she was doing.  “I’ll be… okay.”

Then without warning, he collapsed to the floor and was unconscious.

to be continued…

addressing the end (part two)

Everyone’s gaze was glued on him as he narrated how the disease got a grip on him.  How he continued to work despite going through a battery of tests and treatments sowed amazement from a few in the room.  Yet, as much as he tried to keep himself focused on the task at hand by day, it was a totally different story once he gets off.  He begged off after-office nightcaps, usually inventing some reason in order to make his medical appointments which were subtlety arranged.  Until slowly, unconsciously, his concentration began to be compromised and that’s when he started contemplating on his mortality.  He would appear distant when people talk to him, and would sometimes have very short attention spans.  His body initially responded to the treatment, but the disease seemed to get more and more of a foothold as his finances–not just his overall health–were also taking its toll.

Closing his tale, he told everyone, “I know I still have a couple of weeks here before I finally leave, and I would greatly appreciate it if no special treatment would be given to me.  Just because my life is coming to an end, I wouldn’t want to be treated differently; it would just remind me more of where I’m going.”  A few chuckles broke out after that as he tried to make light of the thick tension that engulfed the room.  “I have already made my peace some time ago that this will be my fate.  And as much as I fought to try and continue to prolong my journey, I just decided to embrace whatever I have and really just live out what time I have left.”  He again slowly scanned the room from left to right, looking at everyone’s eyes before abruptly thanking everyone for their time in staying and declared that the meeting is over.  Some were still in shock as the room slowly emptied, while others went to him and offered either a hug or a handshake.  He gladly obliged, and not long after, a short line was in place of colleagues offering well-wishes, support, and prayers.

As the door to the room finally closed when the last person left, he turned to go back to his chair when he saw her standing behind it with eyes that spell of complete disbelief.  He managed a dry grin as he went on fixing the things on his table.  “All this time, and you didn’t tell me?!  What were you thinking?!”  Her voice started to break as she fidgeted, trying to make sense of what just happened and how she wasn’t able to know despite being “close” to him during these past few months.  “How can you be so selfish?  How can you be so goddamn selfish?!”

“I’m selfish?  I’m selfish?!”  He finally managed to retort back.  “What do you think I’ve been doing for the last couple of months?  Tell me, every time we talked; every time we went out, the things I did, they were all because of you, right?  Whenever you’re down, when you came in sick at work, whenever you needed someone to help you out, whenever you had no one to be with you during lunches or dinners, or going through your shopping just to make you feel better after a bad day at work, who do you turn to?  Me, right?  When you and your boyfriend had those fights, who do you go to and help make you feel better?  Who made the sacrifice play when he suddenly shows up whenever we already had made plans, or worse, when you make plans with me and then cancel at the last minute just so you can do whatever the hell you want?  Who?!”

A tear fell from his eye as he ended his tirade.  She started to sob.  “But I thought we were friends; buddies who tell each other everything; I thought you’re my friend,” she started to reply back.

“A friend?  God, I knew you wouldn’t understand,” he said as he cut her off, placing his hands on the table, shook and bowed his head.  “I knew it.  You wouldn’t, despite everything.”

“Understand what?  That someone who I considered my friend keeps something very important from me, while I pour my heart and soul about my life?  Tell me, what don’t I fucking understand?!”  She grabbed his arms and tried to raise his face to look at him as she emphatically voiced her question.

“That I am madly in love with you, okay?!”

…to be continued.

addressing the end (part one)

The room was unusually silent as he stood up from the chair and walked around his table, his thoughts gathering like soldiers in formation.  Yet as calm as he looked on the outside, he was trying his hardest to pacify his racing heart and dial it down.  He slowly paced himself in front of the table, trying to buy some time as he looked around the room.  His footsteps were the only sound that’s being heard, despite the carpeted floor.  He knew that this was it, and there are no more excuses.  He tried to hide it as best he could during the last couple of weeks, but it was getting more and more noticeable.  Until he finally decided on doing the inevitable.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he calmly said, sitting in front of the table as he began to address the group of thirty-something people inside the room.  “I stand here before you not as your colleague.  I’m here as a person who can proudly say that I did everything I could and gave everything I have for the benefit of everyone here.  But sadly–and as fate would have it–there are things that aren’t just meant to be.”  A trail of whispers suddenly started going around the room as he paused for a couple of seconds to let the next train of thought go to his lips.  “As you may have noticed, things somehow went in a different direction over the last couple of weeks which led to questions about me and my actions.  I tried–with my hardest efforts–to stay the course, but I was too overwhelmed with what came over me and I humbly submit myself to whatever scrutiny you may have.”

The whispers grew into muffled voices as a few in the room tried to make sense of what’s going on; some trying to quiet the others as they attempt to grasp what he was saying.  He looked down and waited for the voices to die down before he continued.  “I know things have been rough lately, and putting undue pressure or even lack of attention on all of you was not my intention; and for those, I sincerely apologize.”  The voices started again, albeit quite louder this time.  He then stood up, eliciting a sudden silence from the room as he folded his arms.  “That being said, I’m now addressing the rumors that has been going around in order to set things straight.  First off, I have submitted my irrevocable resignation but I will continue to be here until the end of the month.”  His statement drew an audible mixed reaction from the people in the room as he tried to press on with what he was saying.  He took a deep breath and raised his arms in efforts to get the room back in his control.

“The reason for my resignation,” he continued, trying to compose himself, “is not because of my admitted shortcomings, but more of something else.”  He paused again as people were now talking to each other; some belittling him, while others expressing either joy, anger or sadness.  He took a few seconds to listen to the incessant noise which was now filling the room.  Random voices and mumbled thoughts were all over him as he sat back down in front of the table and slowly scanned the room from left to right, trying to look everyone in the eye before finally telling everyone in a loud, booming voice, “I only have five more months left to live.”

The noise in the room came to a screeching halt.

To be continued…

poetic fifteen

Today marks 15 years when I wrote my very first poem.  I was supposed to have a new blog entry about it sometime last week, but I thought it better to have it today when that first piece of creative writing I made was put in writing.  Granted, it’s not your typical poem with all that rhyming stuff (I think it’s called free verse or something like that), but I suppose channeling all my emotions into that literary work inspired me to express myself more.  And I would like to believe that if not for creating that poem, it would not have led to me creating and maintaining my own blog.

Back then, I wasn’t much of a speaker.  I was a timid, quiet college boy who minds his own business.  I could never carry myself well speaking in front of a crowd…  yet sometimes, I was forced to.  Still, I almost always end up making a mess out of what I’m supposed to say (I stutter mostly due to big time nervousness since I don’t like all that attention focused towards me) and I end up hating myself for not doing a good job.  I guess maybe that’s why I also developed the fascination of being in radio since everyone just hears me and not see me, but that’s a different story.

I remember writing this poem about two years after I broke up with my ex (yes, that was the last time I had a real relationship).  I was already over her and was also seeing someone else.  Despite that, I was also in the midst of re-evaluating my emotional state of mind and was reflecting on what went wrong with that past relationship and how it went wrong since I wasn’t really able to talk to someone about the break-up itself.  I kept my feelings and emotions of that fateful day under wraps until I decided to just finish it off by writing about it.  I don’t really remember how long it took for me to pen it down, but once I was done, I do remember having this heavy feeling being lifted out of me.

I originally never intended for the poem to “get out,” so to speak.  I was planning to just save and include it in my prized possessions box (yes, I do have that) as something to look back to when I got older.  But a friend of mine–God rest his soul–who was one of the very few people back then who I told about that poem was creating a website during the early years of the internet age, asked me if I would like to have that poem published online.  Initially, I wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect of my first literary piece being read by everyone on the planet, but I figured someone else might be feeling the same thing I felt at that time, and maybe that poem is something that person can relate to.  So I agreed to have my friend a copy of the poem and it was indeed published online.  The website lasted only for a short period of time, as unknown to us who are his friends, he was already battling cancer.  Still, that was the first time I saw my work on a website.  Who knows how many have probably copied it or used it as their own, but I felt proud that my friend took appreciation to what I’ve written and thought it was worthy enough for the whole world to see.

I’ve written some more other poems after that.  Some were published, some were not.  But all of them are in my prized possessions box.  I believe this will be the third time I will be re-posting that poem since I started blogging (2007 was the last time).  I’m not sure if it will be re-posted again, but on this special occasion, I thought of posting it again for the benefit of my new blog audience–especially those who don’t want to backtrack until when I last posted this.  Looking back, yes, I sometimes find it a bit too cheesy, but hey, it was raw and pure emotion; of course it’ll end up cheesy.  Again, it’s free verse so don’t expect for it to sound all that catchy like other poems.  And I still can’t believe it has been 15 years.  Okay, so here we go:

casualty of love

by markie – written:  11:32 pm, March 12th, 1998

I’m a casualty of love
in a battle that I fought
where you have everything to gain,
and everything to lose.

I’m a casualty of love
brought by hatred and darkness,
of torment and anger
of the ever-changing foe.

I’m a casualty of love
I fought with all my strength, all my life,
with all my heart, with all my will
and yet, I failed.

I’m a casualty of love
amidst the pain repeatedly brought to me
I stood on open ground
and faced it with integrity.

I am a casualty of love
fought with odds against me
yet I never gave up
and fought till the end.

I’m a casualty of love
forever wondering what went wrong
knowing what I did was right
with the noblest of intentions.

I’m a casualty of love
with wounds that run deep
forever changing my life
with scars only you can heal.

I’m a casualty of love
dreaming of victory
and a life of happiness,
but only loneliness will come my way.

I’m a casualty of love
as I lie in defeat,
I knew I gave it my all
for her to be with me.

I couldn’t give myself to another
for she is the only one that I truly desire.
Yet there is a next time, next life perhaps
where we can be together.

And yet if I am called once again
to fight from the very start,
God only knows that this casualty of love
will never hesitate and will rise and fight once again.

a fresh start

Rob was just another ordinary guy. Was. He lived a quiet student life the first two years upon stepping into college when the pressure finally got to him. Since then, he hung out with the wrong crowd, skipped classes, got into fights which resulted in him transferring schools thrice in the last year. What was once a person with potential, now is starting over. Again.

At least he had a say in which school he transfers to next. Only this time, the list has gotten pretty short. So short, that his privilege of choosing was taken away from him… by the list itself. Of all the universities he sent his applications to, only one was brave enough to accept him. And this didn’t sit well with Rob. Yet, he had no choice. He badly wanted to put his life back together and was short of doing everything, anything to find himself before all the madness started and to prove that he’s worth something to his friends, his family, and himself.

Moving into Yellowbrook College was easier than he thought. Most of the other students there didn’t know about his checkered past–or at least the more black parts than white–and are actually nice to him when he first came in. One of the first to welcome him was Geri. She is the student council president, teaching assistant and Guidance Couselor assistant all rolled into one. She even sat in the panel when school officials interviewed him after passing the entrance examination so this was not the first time Rob laid his eyes on her. And it was even her that told him he got accepted.

“How is life here in Yellowbrook?” Rob remembered asking Geri that question as soon as she broke the news of his acceptance. “What do you mean?” she asked back. “It’s just like any other college,” she continued. “We have students, teachers, a dean, and pretty much what every other school in the country also has.” There was a tone of formality in her answer, probably reflecting the kind of upbringing she had, he thought to himself. It also probably dawned on him at that particular time that maybe he shouldn’t have sent his application here to begin with. “Are we in any classes together?” he finally shot back after a lull in what she just said. “I mean, it would be rather nice to have a familiar face–” he continued when she suddenly interrupted him. “I dunno. Maybe. I haven’t checked my forms yet.” came her swift answer. “Oh… okay,” was all he could say as his shyness took over him in a way he hasn’t felt in a long, long time.

to be continued…