Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 16, 2024

My forever. (October 6, 2014)

Artemio Naonao,

Hi.

I'm writing this at the point in our relationship when for ever doesn't seem so far fetched. I'm writing this to remind you of how amazing you made me feel; how happy you have made me.



If by chance, our roads stop and we diverge from each other. For whatever reason there might be, I wan't you to read this and just try to remember how much I love you.

I love you like I've never loved anyone before. 

I love you as much as the sun loves this earth.

I love you relentlessly and unceasingly.

If I failed to tell you how much I love you, that's not because I don't or I've stopped loving you.
If I made a mistake and sought comfort in someone else it's not because I've lost sight on you.

If I falter, it's not because I wanted to. It's just because I'm stupid and weak and pathetic. I am insecure and a little coward. 

But I promise never to hurt you or ever make you feel unwanted. With all my strength I promise to love you.

And if by chance you fall out of love for me. I would like to tell you this. I will fight for you. I will fight for your love. I will not let all we have worked so hard for just go without me fighting - clawing to keep us together.

If you do lose it all for me, then I will patiently wait. I will wait until you remember that I am your forever, as you are mine.

I love you,

Marckey Cielo

Saturday, April 27, 2013

Updates on the Inkmeister's Forlorn Life


In the risk of sounding hopeless and pathetic, I wish to narrate the comings and goings of the past few days of my existence.
As you are all aware, Geof dumped me. That was a really freaky moment. But then, I found someone who consciously allowed himself to be my scapegoat. This guy was good at making me feel special. But then a good friend made me realize I was not really ready for a relationship. So, I stopped whatever was between us and tried to move on.
Then there was the suicidal tendency. Of which I was saved by Jane. J See? At this point I realized I wasn’t the evil guy who society has made me out to be. She saved me. The girl who I broke, saved my life.
Then, Hailey came to my life. This boy has got it all. Killer wheels, manual clutch, 110 kph top speed and all the drama that comes with being a race bike. Hailey is my definition of true love.
After Hailey, came Skype guy who btw, is super sweet. Then there’s the official crush of the season, Mr. Older Guy Who Is Amazing At Everything He Does – let’s call him Jack (-of all trades).
And now, there’s Link. Link is a code name. Link from The Legend of Zelda? Ring any bells? He’s as cute and naïve as him. Like super cute. And this one is smart. But of course, I am sticking to the whole 1 year thing. I’m gonna wait for a full year before diving into the dating game again.
Wish me luck.
At this point, I’m most gushing over Link. The fact that we know each other a long time ago adds to the cute awkwardness that is our connection. Jack, well, there’s that kilig thing every single time he smiles at me. Link or Jack, it does not matter. I will be waiting for that one year.

Please, if you've been through the same things I have, leave a comment. Just like me, you'll get over it.

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Ink Drips: Rationalizing Break-ups


(not based on real events but based on the emotions of the writer at his moment)


He took his strides as deliberately as the way his hair fell on his cheeks. His hair on his cheeks – another one of the things Mark wanted him to change. He mused at his own reflection on the black Mazda parked outside his favourite tea shop. He knew he wasn’t perfect, but he always thought he was good-looking, regardless. But Mark kept on pointing out things he wanted him to change.
He pushed his face closer to the tinted car window, trying to get a better view of his nose – the nose that Mark never really liked, he recalled. Slowly he saw a face materialize besides his. He made a quick twist to look at who it was but the fates had never been kind to him and that moment they were the cruellest. Let’s just say everything was resolved with a bloodied nose, apologies served and numbers exchanged with a guy who owned a black Mazda, who liked milk tea, who didn’t mind his nose, who didn’t want his hair cut, who thought he was cute as hell and who felt like a guy like him shouldn’t be let alone bumping other guys and giving them a good bruising.
He was never the type of guy who cheated on the boy he dated. Justin wasn’t that person. He was loving. He tried to understand every single thing Mark did. He loved Mark. But lately, the boy he fell inlove with more than a year ago, was changing. But these he still understood. The changes, he intellectualized. He analyzed ever little detail of change as just him going through a phase. He was in love. And love, usually blinds you.
He still liked tea though, so every day since that moment with black Mazda guy, he would go to the tea shop, and casually wait for him to come around. The guy never did though. But that moment helped him realize so many things about his self – about how he felt about himself.
He wasn’t inlove anymore. And he knew he shouldn’t be made to stay in a relationship with someone he didn’t love enough. So it ended. It ended with  a phone call and a lame excuse for a breakup. It wasn’t Justin’s fault. It was no ones, but he still blamed himself. He still had the guy’s number, but he never called him. As for the sad Mark, he carried on and found love elsewhere. Mark found love even before Justin.
Justin new he made a mistake. But it was one of those mistakes that you never really regret. He was in love. And it is always better to love and lost and not to have loved at all.
You see, this isn’t a story of broken hearts. This is a story of winning – of break-ups and of choices, good ones.

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Kangitngit



*** Kangitngit is Bisaya for darkness, but in this complex dialect it takes on various definitions with such vivid applications as to imagery. This poem of mine which is  a silly attempt at literature seeks to showcase the power of the word and the intricacies of the Bisaya language.


Samtang ginasubay nako kining dalan
Dalan nga ngitngit, dalan nga bala-an
Akong ginapangandoy nga magkita na ta
Maskin lang man sa kangitngit atong kalag mag-abot na
Sa kangingit gikawat akong pahiyom
Sa ngalan sa sapi,sa diyot, sa ilimnon
Ug sa mabugnawong kilid ako gipasagdan
Kangitngit, kahadlok, akong nasudlan
Ug ikaw gahulat sa eskina sa may mangga
Para kanako, nga abi nimo muabot pa
Ug karon akong subayon kining dalana
Padulong kanimo, maskin dili man ta magkita
Dawata akong gugma, kasing-kasing og pagkatawo
Sa kangitngit man lang pasaylo-a ko intawon
Samtang akong pagasubayn kining dalana
Hinaot atong kasingksaing mag-abot na.

TRANSLATION:
As I follow this road,
This dark and holy road,
I yearn that we finally meet.
Even in this nothingness our souls would finally meet.
My smile was stolen in the darkness.
In the name of money, of having, of liquor.
And in that cold damp corner I was left to wait.
Death, fear was what I have entered.
And you wait there at the curb, by the mango tree,
For me, whom you thought was still coming.
And now, I follow this path
To you, even though we shall never meet.
Receive my love, my heart, my soul.
Even just in the end, forgive me please.
While I follow this path,
I hope that our hearts finally meet.

Saturday, May 8, 2010

A response to Nicholas Sparks' Dear John




there are things yet seen...
these are paintings of an artist's brush...

there stories yet to be told...
at the tip of the lonely writer's pen...

there is a melody yet heard...
settled upon the composer's sheets...

there is a love yet relished...
waiting for the deserving to claim it...

there is a woman alone...
waiting for you to just come home...

there is a man at the edge...
hoping you wait...

there is a world of questionable sanity...
inkling to transform

transform the woman alone and the man on the edge so the love may be relished and the story be told, that the melody be heard and the truth be seen... a truth that may hurt and sting... yet truth by all means... in verity it stands.

but the sands of time will always drain and we turn over the vessel and we begin a new leap...

Dear John.


Friday, May 7, 2010

2nd Short Story: Under the Cloak series

Love at the Diagon Alley

A love so true – untouched and virgin, pure and chaste is this love of a boy for another boy. A boy who had never mustered love for anyone, not even himself; one who was not only born into wealth but also born into darkness.

Pale as snow, sweet as sugar, his skin gleamed in the sunlight; Hair so blonde that it shimmered as he walked down Diagon Alley. He loved it there. The people, so vivid, so colorful, went about with smiles on their faces. Smile, the sort of smiles he had never known – ever. They were honest smiles. Smiles that could only be painted on the faces of honestly happy people. Those people gave him a sense of insecurity. The life he led never gave him the smiles they had. He was insecure and he knew it.

“Draco! Listen boy, I have to go down to Gringotts. You stay here and get your measures taken. Don’t leave unless I come get you.” A scary man, as pale as him and with the same blonde hair but only longer, told him in a most cold way. He was his father. The Lucius Malfoy – the one, who sided with the Dark Lord and after his fall, claimed he had been spellbound.

He nodded as if he meant it, but he didn’t. He was staring down the alley. His father had left, and he broke his stare at the figure he was looking at and went into the robe shop, Madam Malkin’s, thinking, “This day might just get a notch more interesting.”

The bell rang as he entered and soon, the work began.

A little before Draco’s measures were all taken, he came in. His face was as bright as an angel’s. His eyes mystically glowed an emerald-like-glow. His hair was funny – messed up.

And he looked at me curiously, I had tingles all over. Then again, I can’t just act like a squeally girl now can I? So I let the usual dark cold Draco surface from within me. But I couldn’t just bully him. He was so beautiful, innocent, sweet and happy. He had a smile on him which fought my instinct to just squish his esteem with the fiery words which I learned from my father.

I guess I was in love. I was captured by his eyes, his lips, and his soul which emanated a sort of glow – he felt warm even from a distance. He felt so real. Unlike the people who I am around so often, he felt ridiculously real.

He came closer so then I started ranting about Hogwarts and how I was going to be in Slytherin or else I won’t even stay at the damn school. I tried to be friendly, honestly. But friendly in our household, in my group of friends even, in everything I do, is shoving people in toilets, or calling them names. I tried not to do those really.

But then beyond his softness and warmth I couldn’t help but think he hated me. He had changed his smile into a lopsided frown. I felt his warmth slowly retreat. I might’ve scared him. I have that effect.

I realized I was being a shadow to his light. We were in no way compatible – at that moment I reckoned. At that very moment I knew that he would never ever be a friend of mine. He might just well be my enemy.

I sobbed inside, fighting the thought. Then I saw a man through the shop’s windows, he was huge and beyond any doubt monstrously ugly. I recognize him vaguely as the school’s – Hogwarts – gamekeeper.

In an effort to win back the boy’s affection, I made fun of the giant looming outside the shop.

He shot back a furious expression. I later found out that he was with him. I didn’t know he was with him. How could I? An angel and ogre together? I really felt lost, but I didn’t show a hint of it. No I just grinned. I grinned my most devilish grin and went off after the lady told me she was done with all my measures.

As I retreated through the door, out of the shop, I felt a sense of knowing. I knew right then and there that our paths would cross again. They may not be moments of bliss, our next meetings. But I was sure that we’d meet again. And that smile, his warmth, his everything I was going to feel it again. I was sure.

I was sure that that love at the Diagon Alley would be seconded.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Odd Farewell

--- arms in self-embrace
she stands, motionless... serene.
--- lips locked, eyes-teary
he walks - surely - towards her
--- eyes sharp
she breaks here nothing, and turns her back to the approaching figure..
:: stop ::

--- hand folded, eyes wiped dry...
he bids her farewell...

::soft light bounces on their faces::

--- shaking body, bloodshot eyes, ghostly complexion...
she rushes to the man hit by the truck
--- dying
he says, i love you...
--- sobbing she said
i should have let you come
--- with a smirk, he uttered in a low, barely audible, whisper...
but then... if i had, you would have never loved me as much as you do right now.