The Letter 20" x 30"
acrylic on canvas
People are unique. No two people are alike. Even identical twins cannot be totally identical. The same thing goes for relationships. Every single relationship one goes through is unique from the other.
There are relationships that would almost kill you (or the other person) when cheating is involved. I have a couple of female friends who went through hell when they lived with husbands who treated them like doormats or boxing dummies. Their individual versions of living hell only ended when they got the courage to pack their bags and haul their children out of their abusive homes.
I’ve had a relationship where after a whole year of bliss it was shattered into pieces when a single miscalculated action brought out the lies it was built on. Anger welled up like a busted steam pipe when I discovered the sham. The pain of betrayal was so much that in my anger I sent the other person to the hospital. For years now, I have vowed never to lift my hand in anger and I intend to keep that vow until the last of my days.
There are also relationships that even if they failed, years can build up the healing and cover the wounds.
I read a letter again I wrote years ago to end another one of those bad relationships. As I held the words in front of my eyes, I can’t help but smile and say to myself, “I wrote that? Dang, that was a stupid, overly dramatic, cheesy lines.” Then I cringe and give out a silent chuckle.
-------
I was out with Brian on a Saturday night drinking at a bar. I haven’t seen this guy for years since he gravitated from being a small-time hooker to becoming an international escort that afforded him to earn in euros and dollars, and a swanky place by the bay. Tall and handsome, make him walk along the streets of Pasay and people would crane their necks to see who the actor was that walked by.
“Ko-yah cheers! To long layp,” he chirped as we clinked our bottles of beer.
“Cheers man,” I acknowledged, not failing to notice that he still sounds provincial no matter how much expensive his Paul Smith shirt is. He kept on animatedly telling me the idiosyncrasies of some of his rich foreign “guests” (clients really), the parties he’s been to and how he almost lost a limb when a client’s husband caught them smooching in the sands of Ibiza. I was listening with amusement to his stories when mid-way through lifting his bottle he pointed with his pinky to my right.
“Hey koyah. I think that guy knows you. He’s been looking at you since he came in,” he said.
I looked to my right and there he was… an unwanted ghost from the past.
“Hi Dan,” he said.
“Oh. Hello,” I replied in a pitch higher than my usual.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine. You?”
“Great. Uhm, I guess you have company.”
“OH, this guy?” I turned to Brian as he flashed him a wide toothy smile. “He’s Brian. An old neighbor. Vacationing. For Christmas.”
“Oh… hi,” he said.
An awkward pause followed where everything in my head fell silent in that noisy bar.
“Well, I’d best leave you and your friend. You look good Dan.”
“Yeah, thanks. You too. Take care,” I said.
He walked towards the door of the bar. I looked at his shoulders and noticed that it still bore the same slight twitch every time he takes that familiar gait.
“Ko-yah… uuuy. You’re looking far away ha? Who’s that?” Brian chided me as he gave me a slight nudge.
“Just someone, from the past,” I said.
“Hmm… really?”
“Yeah, really. It's all… meaningless, now.”
_______
I finally get to post a favorite song of mine here in this blog after I convinced it's singer and writer - Clarice, that more people should hear it.
Listen...
Meaningless Conversation - chrissie
There are relationships that would almost kill you (or the other person) when cheating is involved. I have a couple of female friends who went through hell when they lived with husbands who treated them like doormats or boxing dummies. Their individual versions of living hell only ended when they got the courage to pack their bags and haul their children out of their abusive homes.
I’ve had a relationship where after a whole year of bliss it was shattered into pieces when a single miscalculated action brought out the lies it was built on. Anger welled up like a busted steam pipe when I discovered the sham. The pain of betrayal was so much that in my anger I sent the other person to the hospital. For years now, I have vowed never to lift my hand in anger and I intend to keep that vow until the last of my days.
There are also relationships that even if they failed, years can build up the healing and cover the wounds.
I read a letter again I wrote years ago to end another one of those bad relationships. As I held the words in front of my eyes, I can’t help but smile and say to myself, “I wrote that? Dang, that was a stupid, overly dramatic, cheesy lines.” Then I cringe and give out a silent chuckle.
-------
I was out with Brian on a Saturday night drinking at a bar. I haven’t seen this guy for years since he gravitated from being a small-time hooker to becoming an international escort that afforded him to earn in euros and dollars, and a swanky place by the bay. Tall and handsome, make him walk along the streets of Pasay and people would crane their necks to see who the actor was that walked by.
“Ko-yah cheers! To long layp,” he chirped as we clinked our bottles of beer.
“Cheers man,” I acknowledged, not failing to notice that he still sounds provincial no matter how much expensive his Paul Smith shirt is. He kept on animatedly telling me the idiosyncrasies of some of his rich foreign “guests” (clients really), the parties he’s been to and how he almost lost a limb when a client’s husband caught them smooching in the sands of Ibiza. I was listening with amusement to his stories when mid-way through lifting his bottle he pointed with his pinky to my right.
“Hey koyah. I think that guy knows you. He’s been looking at you since he came in,” he said.
I looked to my right and there he was… an unwanted ghost from the past.
“Hi Dan,” he said.
“Oh. Hello,” I replied in a pitch higher than my usual.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine. You?”
“Great. Uhm, I guess you have company.”
“OH, this guy?” I turned to Brian as he flashed him a wide toothy smile. “He’s Brian. An old neighbor. Vacationing. For Christmas.”
“Oh… hi,” he said.
An awkward pause followed where everything in my head fell silent in that noisy bar.
“Well, I’d best leave you and your friend. You look good Dan.”
“Yeah, thanks. You too. Take care,” I said.
He walked towards the door of the bar. I looked at his shoulders and noticed that it still bore the same slight twitch every time he takes that familiar gait.
“Ko-yah… uuuy. You’re looking far away ha? Who’s that?” Brian chided me as he gave me a slight nudge.
“Just someone, from the past,” I said.
“Hmm… really?”
“Yeah, really. It's all… meaningless, now.”
_______
I finally get to post a favorite song of mine here in this blog after I convinced it's singer and writer - Clarice, that more people should hear it.
Listen...
Meaningless Conversation - chrissie
4 comments:
So beautiful. And tender. I completely understand the tendency to cringe when reading old letters.
@ bella: i always cringe every time i come across these old letters. it's like looking at old photos of yourself when you were a teenager and you tell yourself, "ugh, i had hair like that before?!"
hahaha! kakarelate ako dun sa letters at awkwardness ng situations when you get to see some people from your past. but most of the time, i feel sorry for them and myself na din. di ko alam pero parang nakikita ko yung sufferings both of them went through. ayan, naiiyak na ulit ako.hahaha what with the post? maaga pa for valentines ah.:P
@ Bjornik: lol, hmmm... do i detect some past "dramas"? ito yung mga tipo ng usapan na kelangan eh merong hawak na bote ng beer. hahaha...
oo nga ano? maaga pa para sa valentines. nangyari yan actually, a few days before christmas. ;-)
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