What's your favorite disguise? [/meta]
posted by letter shredder @ 11:59 a.m. on 1/20/2006
"Great art is about conflict and pain and guilt and longing and love disguised as sex and sex disguised as love..."
-- Lester Bangs, Almost Famous
Tuesday, September 09, 2003
Promises are made to be broken...
I have no idea if you would still bother to read this after the meeting yesterday.
It has definitely done something good. It has put some sense to both of us. I know that early yesterday, you have thought that you would never compromise yourself to anything or to anyone you barely know. Ever. That was the best thing that I can comprehend.
As for me…it was one ego-shattering experience. Ego-shattering is actually an understatement. You have a funny definition of love. And an even funnier way of showing it.
I’ve never been in love. You spoke of it better than I do.
But if that is love…to hell with it!
You spoke of it in a very ideal way. Ideal that it was magical. Brilliant but scary. But everyway you defined it was justified by the way you said you were about to show it. And the actual day that you were about to do so.
It is not because love is bad and the captivating feelings are impossible.
It is because what you had was not love.
I know you will agree with that. You also want to. Even if you don’t, you’d force yourself to do so.
You have no idea how sensitive I am. I have felt your indifference right from the start. Only the insensitive could miss the meaning of your actions. Or even the insensitive could not have missed it.
Pardon but I think it was you who didn’t read mine.
My mistake was I didn’t ask you if we should still push with the plan when I’ve felt your indifference right from the very start. I did not know how. I wouldn’t have liked it either if I did not give it a shot. And I was also afraid that you would have cancelled it there and then.
We had so many “dead air.” I was trying to make the conversation work but you weren’t. Admit it. Even just the conversation. Communication could be linear. But our situation called for a two. Yung reciprocated. Friendship, or any relationship, is a two-way traffic. At least two, depending on the number of parties involved.
After the movie, your excuse that your mom was asking you to go home was not so effective. Kalahati na yata ng populasyon ang gumamit ng alibi na yan!
That excuse confirmed everything that I was thinking. Any polite way that you want to hint the exit was not effective. At least with me.
Your mouth speaks so well but your eyes cannot hide what’s inside.
It takes one to know one, young man!
Ang reason ko naman—if it has to end, it better be soon. The meeting closed gestalts. The open gestalts. Even personal ones. Whatever your reasons are, I already have ideas of them. You just confirmed them.
Thanks for that.
About that “goodnight” text, when I asked you if goodnight is the euphemism of goodbye, I want its meaning clear. Meaning is relative. We have different contexts of that word. And for the kind of person that I am, one who keeps people, I’d rather have the chances of having “all” or “nothing.” And that would depend on how you want it.
I don’t know if this letter is making sense to you. But it does to me.
I do not want to explain further. I know that you have ways of reading in between the lines.
I will just repeat this to you—wag kang mangangako ng isang bagay na hindi mo kayang tuparin. Kahit saang sitwasyon mo yan ilagay, may aasa.
Kaya may nasasaktan.
At marami pa ang pwedeng masaktan.
I told you I would hold on to that. I admit I did.
I am sorry for this letter. But I don’t regret sending it to you.
I am not expecting any reply from you. But I hope you do, if possible every line that you want to react to.
I hope that you do not use the term love in the same sense next time.
Never dedicate songs lest you mean them. Lest you are sure of offering them and whom you’d want them offered.
The good songs should never be associated to bad memories. Kahit na doon pa sila nanggaling. Especially the ones that you have appreciated all your life.
Dahil marami ka pang pwedeng makilala na tulad ko.
I am not expecting that sembreak trip nor the visits to UP. Wala na rin sigurong susunod. They were some of the things you told me you were sure of. And they were the ones I’ve always made clear to you every time we talk. Coz it just turned out that you weren’t really sure.
At yang pagiging sigurado mo ang kinatatakutan ko…
The fear that I have always told you…
I would name that fear—REJECTION.
Never is a promise.