We will always have the same sky.
Brother, I have always been afraid to write about you. I have always been afraid that you would somehow find my poetry, my prose, whatever you call these letters I stitch together and see that my embroidery looks kind of a lot like you.
I visited the place where we first met last August, and there I found out that you can still make me cry. And to think it’s been three years. Crazy, right?
I used to love that city. I still do, but last August I also discovered that there are landmines under almost every sidewalk. Those places have traces of the ice cream we ate, our laughter on the train, echoes of all the poetry and music and stories we gave each other. Bittersweet landmines. Each time they exploded a smile onto my face but the dark smoke would choke it out and take its place.
I only cry for the dead. But you saw how I cried over you at the apartment elevator that night. I think you told me to stop, but I’m not sure. All I remember is street lights, the taste of wet salt, and you looking like you were having a hard time breathing. Know that I felt the same. Or not. Sometimes I wonder why God never let me lose as many people as you. Maybe He knew that I would barely be able to handle losing you.
I haven’t heard you breathe in years. All I see are your pictures and posts, intangible you. I can see you have grown in some parts… I hope you have. But I also see a lot of tiredness. And pain. And change. I don’t think I can make you laugh anymore.
I don’t know what your plans are now. I don’t know if you still want to make films, if you still want to make things, if you still want to go everywhere you said you’d go. But I hope you know that my door is always open. And even if I will never hear you knock again, somehow I am comforted knowing that we
will always have the same sky.
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the curious wanderings
There is something about knowing that your heart
has finally found its place, that the peace you have been searching for
now knocks at your door.
That the storm that has left you in pieces,
that has you so used to the darkness you had
forgotten you once walked on sunlit paths
is finally over, and you remember that the moon and the stars still exist
that hurricanes, no matter how huge, lose their speed
and there is still such a thing as clouds
that don’t bring death with each fall of rain.
I know that there is something about knowing that
there is hope, and not just any kind of hope,
but the hope that is alive,
and knowing this… you know what it does?
It makes me feel like spring,
every fiber in my being so alive and kicking
and suddenly every part of me knows
how to dance, I lose control of my body
and even I don’t know how to stop me,
my mouth seems too small to contain the smile
that is breaking across my
face is flushed pink
like I’m in love, I am in love, how can you not be in love
when you know that a hope like this is living and it
overtakes you and kind of breaks you and
makes you feel like this, makes you
forget how to form words on your tongue,
even the simplest things are now indescribable
brings you to your knees, waterfalls of tears on your cheeks
and you’re not sure if they’re from laughter or amazement
but then it hits you, the word to describe it is
joy.
An inexpressible, glorious joy.
And this joy does not fade.
Even in my hardest nights, in the corners of my heart
there it resides.
How can this joy go away, when I know
that every ugly part of me
every mistake
every failure and every fall
has been taken and exchanged?
Darkness for light
death for life
sin for righteousness
mourning for gladness.
How can this joy be silenced,
when God Himself shamelessly proclaimed
His love for me, an unworthy being,
announcing to the world
that I am now His through the nailing of His body to a tree?
How can this joy be destroyed,
when even after accepting His love into my life
there are times my heart still strays far
but then, again and again and again, His love goes further?
It cannot.
And it is with this joy that my heart has been filled,
more than when all the blessings are flowing
and I am not lacking, this joy
goes beyond this world in which we are living,
pointing us to the only possible source for a
joy like this.
There is something about knowing where the source
of such a joy comes from,
and knowing that your heart has finally opened its doors
and finally found its place there.
And that source is Jesus.
And my heart has opened its doors to Him and
found its place in Him, and I am filled with joy.
An inexpressible, glorious joy.
You might not remember my goodbye, but there were white walls. Around 9pm, a handful of other people, and the beating of a silent angel’s wing.
You might not know this, but that wasn’t a goodbye. It was too rushed, too bloody, not enough space for letters to form, full of run-ons, no commas, no semi-colons, very messy, no— that was the goodbye in my head, but what I actually managed to whisper was full of commas, full of semi-colons, had too much pauses. But no stops. No periods. My goodbye was unfinished.
It went something like,
“I love you… I won’t let anything happen to the place you love most…. I will write about you, about your family; I won’t let them forget about—”
See? My goodbye was an outline. With Roman numeral number one being “I love you…” so,
I. I love you
A. I love you; what more is there to say?
B. Here it is: I love you
C. And I will continue to love you
1. long after my tongue forgets how to say your name because I know I won’t be saying it out loud anymore
2. long after your bed exhales the engraving of your body on its sheets and I forget what sleeping beside you feels like
3. long after the sound of sirens and wars and famines and earthquakes try to push the sound of your radio out of my mind (I will miss that radio)
II. I won’t let anything happen to the place you love most
A. where is the place you love most?
1. I hope the place you love most is within reach and not somewhere I can’t go to
2. or maybe it’s the place you call home, or maybe it’s who you call home
3. I hope the place you love most is somewhere where I’m next to you
B. I hope I can keep this promise
III. I will write about you
A. how you
1. once ate tortang talong everyday for two years — simply because you loved it
2. keep everything — that eleven year old bar of Safeguard you once showed me, the children’s picture book Bible you’ve had since you were nine, and my letters you never replied to… I remember always writing apologies for snapping at you, now I’m writing eulogies and I don’t know how to stop
B. how you love
1. not with your words — maybe words tired you because people don’t always remember words exactly as they were, but they do remember the way they were looked at, and when you’d look at me like that, I was suddenly fine with the way you kept your I love yous to yourself; they spill from your eyes anyway
2. with your hands — you liked to fix my messes: from algebra equations to broken picture frames; you liked to answer my questions: where is north? who were the other men on the moon? what did you say when you had to say goodbye? I never asked you that last question, but maybe I should have so that I would have been more prepared for this moment and not would not have to have said goodbye to you in the form of an outline
C. about your family
1. I will start writing about them once I’ve figured out how to stop writing about you
2. so I guess I might never be able to write about them
IV. I won’t let them forget about
And here ends my goodbye because I decided that I would be undecided about what I won’t let people forget. Let me remind them freely, without a guide to follow, just things about you I only realize later on actually meant something. And now I realize that that goodbye holds a lot of promises, and I need to tell you honestly… these days… I don’t write about you and I don’t think about you and I don’t see you everywhere anymore. And sometimes I don’t miss you. And I don’t know if that is a sign that I have healed, or if I’ve just simply chosen to ignore the symptoms of something much worse. But these days I swear I’ve been trying. Trying to let you in my dreams again. Trying to write more fragments and phrases and outlines and fulfilled promises. Trying to let you make your way into my words again, until my goodbye becomes a see you later. Until I someday write you back.
I.
Mahal, minsan napapaisip ako…
Ang laki masyado ng mundong ito, ang mundo ko.
Gusto kong hawakan ang bawa’t bato, yakapin ang bawa’t puno, pero hindi ko kaya dahil nadadala ako sa tinig ng mga iba’t ibang boses na humihila sa aking puso at hindi ko alam kung alin ang susundan ko.
Nakaktakot ang katotohanan na marami pang mga lugar na hindi pa natatapakan ng aking paa, marami pa akong hindi alam, marami pa akong hindi nakikita.
Pero minsan, ang katotohanang ito ang nagpapatibok sa aking puso, at nais kong pasukan ang lahat ng mga pintong bumubukas sa harap ko,
nais kong mahalin ang lahat ng taong dumadaan sa buhay ko,
nais kong maranasan ang lahat ng pwedeng maranasan ng isang tao.
Pero minsan talaga, hindi…
Hindi talaga alam ng aking puso kung ano ang gusto nito.
Kung isang mundong malaki o mundong maliit ang gusto niyang tirhan.
Pero yung nag-iisang bagay na kung saan ako'y sigurado, ay…
Na gusto ko na sa gitna ng kaguluhan,
iyong boses ang madidinig,
at iyong boses lamang.
Balik mo ‘ko kung saan tayong unang nagkita,
kung saan tayong unang nagkakilala.
Balik mo 'ko sa panahong iyon,
yung unang beses na hinawakan mo ang aking puso sa iyong palad
at nagpangako na hinding hindi mo ito bibitawan.
Halika, balik tayo sa ilalim ng iyong puno.
II.
Habang ako'y nandito sa ilalim ng iyong puno,
hindi na importante sa 'kin kung malaki o maliit man ang mundo.
Basta’t kayakap kita dito kung saan walang kahulugan ang oras,
alam kong iikot lang ng iikot ang mundo.
At sapat na yun para sa 'kin.
Dahil sa iyong pagmamahal,
lahat ng takot ay nadadaig.
Di niyo ba alam
na nang pasimula ay nilikha ng Diyos
ang langit at ang lupa?
Na ang mundong ito'y
Kanyang binigyan ng hugis at anyo
gamit lamang ang mga salitang
dumaan sa Kanyang bibig?
Na nung sinabi Niyang, “Magkaroon ng liwanag!”
Nagkaroon nga.
Di niyo ba alam
na kaya Niyang humarang
sa agos ng dagat,
ipaawit ang mga bituin,
ipaluhod ang bulubundukin?
Di niyo ba alam
na ang kapangyarihan na ito,
ang kapangyarihang ginamit Niya
para ibuo ang mga planeta,
ang kapangyarihang ginamit Niya
para tigilan ang pag-akyat ng buwan
nung lumalaban sina Joshua,
ang kapangyarihang ginamit Niya
para bigyan muli ng buhay ang yumao
ay nasa
atin
din?
Ito
ang Kanyang pangako:
Na tayo'y binigyan ng kapangyarihang
tapakan ang mga ahas at ang lahat ng kapangyarihan
ng ating kaaway
Di
niyo ba
alam na
may kapangyarihan sa pagsamba
sa Kanya?
Di niyo ba alam
na nung ikapitong ikot
sa ikapitong araw,
mga trumpeta at boses ng Kanyang mga anak
ang ginamit ng Diyos para ibagsak ang Jerico?
Sumigaw na tayo sapagkat
nasa atin na ang tagumpay
Sumigaw na tayo sapagkat
sa Kanyang pangalan ang pag-asa ng mundo
sa Kanyang pangalan,
lumiliwanag ang dilim
sa Kanyang pangalan,
lahat ng takot ay nadadaig
Sambahin natin ang Panginoon
ng buong galak
ng buong puso
nanginginig at mga demonyo
sa pangalan ni Hesus
tumutumba ang mga harang ng impyerno
sa pangalan ni Hesus
Tayo'y magkaisa,
itaas ang mga kamay
tayo'y magkaisa,
itaas ang iyong boses gaya ng mga trumpeta
tayo'y magkaisa
Sambahin natin ang Diyos na buhay,
ang Diyos na dakila!