Boy Meets Girl

Boy meets girl
They become close friends
They hang out a lot
They share secrets

Boy meets girl
People start teasing them
People think they’re a couple
People become inquisitive

Boy meets girl
Girl doesn’t mind
Girl evaluates friendship level
Girl starts having indescribable feelings for boy

Boy meets girl
Boy has no intentions of dating girl
Boy places girl in the friendzone
Boy develops awkward relationship with girl

Boy ends peer assumptions
Boy eyes another girl
Boy approaches this girl
Boy tries to make his move

Girl is hurt
Girl feels sorry for herself
Girl misses her boy best friend
Girl is all alone

Boy meets girl
They were only meant to meet

Mr. D., the taxi driver

Last September 28, we rode a taxi going to Teachers Camp for the last day of our church festival. The driver, Mr. D., was very friendly. He greeted us, and his dispatcher (via walkie talkie) after he started the engine.

On the way, he told us that he would usually let people who were on their way to church ride on his taxi for free. For him it was his form of service for the people of God who were on their way to worship Him. He said that even though we had different religions we still worship the same God.

He started to talk about how much he appreciated ‘trash-pickers’, people selling on the streets, people working hard just to provide for their family and send their children to school. He despised those who stole just for easy money. He didn’t buy the ‘I just want to provide for my family’ excuse that theives would say when they got interviewed by the media after they got caught.

Then he told us his story. He was an ex-con imprisoned for 15 years. He was part of the special forces during the Marcos regime. He was on death row, the next person to be shot by the firing squad. And then the late President Marcos woke up and stopped the execution. That was when he said that God really loves him. He served his time in prison. He was evangelized by the Baptists who were active in prison ministry. When he got out, he attended services at various churches – Catholic, Baptist, and Evangelical. He said that he was able to get an NBI clearance to go abroad despite being an ex-con. He is from Manila and he settled here in Baguio. He married his wife who is from Lepanto, Mankayan, Benguet.

At this point, we arrived at Teachers Camp. I would have loved to hear the rest of his story. His story is his testimony to others. I believe that we weren’t the only passengers who heard or know of it. I pray that his passengers will be touched by his story, and turn to God, too. Thank you, Mr. D.

As I got out, I noticed the name of his taxi, “Sniper…”, remembering that he was part of the special forces. I hope I get to ride on his taxi again.

Lie and Lie Again

Everyone lies. And everyone lies for a reason.

I was upset last Saturday because of two things. First, because this creepy stalker won’t stop stalking. Second, because Mr. Awkward had a heart-to-heart with a girl. What’s with the lie?

Some people knew that I was upset. When they asked me why, I only told them reason number 1. Why couldn’t I tell them reason number two?

  1. I didn’t want to be judged as being clingy or assuming.
  2. We only have ‘sparks’.
  3. I could be over thinking.
  4. I felt insecure.
  5. I didn’t want to be interrogated because I don’t owe them an explanation.
  6. I’d look desperate.

So I only told people reason number one because I knew that they’d understand that, and that didn’t need any explanation.

While eating lunch last Sunday, a friend asked why Mr. Awkward looked problematic during the past few days. I only asked him why last Tuesday evening. And he said that he was alone during those times because his friends went food tripping without him. I wasn’t convinced because the reason sounded kind of off. Yeah, it’s sad that your friends went out without you, but I don’t think that that’s enough reason for someone to look really problematic. So when I told him that he just said that he’s moved on from his problem. Busted a lie, and he said that he’s moved on.

When people don’t want to talk about something:

  1. They say it directly.
  2. They say that they have moved on.
  3. They tell people not to worry about it.
  4. They change the topic.
  5. They don’t want to involve others, especially the one who asked.
  6. They say that they don’t know; they shrug.
  7. They lie.

We lie because we don’t want others to know the truth (obviously). We lie because sometimes we think that people would be more comfortable knowing the lie than knowing the truth.

Hey, Awkward. Part 2

She’s all laid up in bed with a broken heart,
While I’m drinking jack all alone in my local bar,
And we don’t know how,
How we got into this mad situation,
Only doing things out of frustration,
Trying to make it work but man these times are hard,

She needs me now but I can’t seem to find the time,
I’ve got a new job now on the unemployment line,
And we don’t know how,
How we got into this mess is this a gods test?
Someone help us cause we’re doing our best (best)
Trying to make it work but man these times are hard

Sparks. Sparks that lasted for a few days. And then you told me that you had a problem. And because of that problem, I knew that everything was gonna go downhill. I knew that it couldn’t be. And at the same time I was hurt. “Don’t play with people’s feelings.” I distanced myself because I believed that that was the right thing to do. And you needed to sort things out. I should have and could have helped you as a friend, but since I was involved, I couldn’t. Clouded judgment equals bias.

But we’re gonna start by
Drinking old cheap bottles of wine,
Sit talking up all night,
Saying things we haven’t for a while
A while ya
We’re smiling but we’re close to tears,
Even after all these years,
We just now got the feeling that we’re meeting for the first time

September. Feast. Awkward no more. Okay, maybe the first “Hello” was awkward. But then we started to talk to each other like the good old days…which was a few months ago. We talked like nothing happened. But we talked with ‘caution’; we didn’t involve the ‘sensitive’ topics.

Still waiting, like I told (promised) you.

Hey, Awkward

I hang out with my friends

We sit down on a bench

Lights dance around us

The band plays on stage

I didn’t think about you.

Tick tock said the clock

Noise…a commotion…

We stare at the entrance

We wait.

A girl appears…then another…

I realize what that meant

I wasn’t prepared.

Finally, someone spoke,

Greeted them,

“Hey, awkward, you’re here.”

You take your place on the stage.

I try to look away.

Try to engage in a deep conversation

Try not to notice your presence.

I try…I try…but I fail.

I steal a glance at you

Then my eyes travel elsewhere

I pretend to be blind

I stand up, go to the comfort room,

Remove my contact lens,

Wear my low grade glasses

Perhaps he’ll think that I didn’t look up

Because I wasn’t wearing glasses

Fool! Low grade glasses!

They made my vision even more blurry

Than wearing just one contact lens.

I return to my seat

Fool! Now I don’t know whether

Or not I should look at him;

Don’t know whether he’s looking

At me or not

I can’t see you clearly

I stare blankly at the stage

We stand up and prepare to leave

“Hey, Awkward, I gotta go.

Talk to you later?”

“Hey, Awkward, I missed you.”


“She looks like you. She looks a lot like you. She moves like you,  smiles like you, and talks like you.”

I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t even take my eyes off of the computer’s screen. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.

It can’t be. I was still in shock, in denial. No…it just can’t…

I wanted to grab the scissors and cut my hair. I wanted to use the remaining henna and dye it. I wanted to visit my ophthalmologist and buy colored contact lenses. I wanted to…

But I didn’t.

If I did, I wouldn’t be me. And this self-love, my narcissism, stopped me.

A part of me wanted to get to know her. We could be best buddies, share fandoms, and talk about our common interests.

Another part didn’t want to. Meeting her would be weird and awkward. People are going to compare us. We might end up competing.

I click on a video, wait for it to load, then it plays. I sit still and watch.

She looks like me.

She looks a lot like me.

She moves like me.

She smiles like me.

She talks like me.

But she is not me.