Sunday, November 19, 2006

To Liana

I MISS this one girl. She’s still very much there. But still I miss her.

I miss the way she nods in class as if she understands, then pulls me aside for me to explain what the teacher just said.

I miss the poise she tries to exude. I miss the pranks we used to pull off to mess up that poise.

I miss how she would whine like a baby, but would never take things personally—the type of whining that simply fishes for affection. I miss giving her that hug to cheer her up after, and the cute smile she’d have as she welcomed the hug like a child.

I miss going to dreaded social obligations, the “I’ll go if you go” text messages we used to exchange. I miss waiting for her at the lobby of the venue, and leaving with her after.

I miss late nights in her dining room as trusty Kuya Arts called me a cab. I miss her complaining about her mother, and how her mother and I get along just fine.

I miss shielding her from others as she sheds tears she’d allow only me to see. I miss being on the other end of a call or a text message as we would try to work through things together, often just laughing things off.

I miss being needed by her when she’s given me much of what I once needed. I miss listening to her problems, in turn deterring me from my own.

I miss the reason Ateneo even became a choice. I miss the girl who helped me feel I was worth a damn.

She’s there. Rehearsing in Gonzaga Hall. Hanging out with her psych friends. She never left. Just a mere text away.

Days together have now been replaced by occasional lunches. It’s OK. I’m fine with that on most days. Some days I’m not.

Days without her are far from hellish. I have my own life now, she's always had hers. But in the depths of uncertainty, of the weirdness of reality that fucks with my emotions, I miss her.

(Truthfully, I miss her more than I would like to admit.)
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Liana and I had an awesome shot at being classmates for the first time since high school this semester. Her filled-up class and my lame excuse for load revision prevented that. Life sucks.

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Check out my new link to the online portfolio of the Mouse, the Bleeding Siren, Ms. Dictator Diva herself, my good friend with incomparable talent, Ms. Marcee Lacap.

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