Last Sunday, the priest told all grandparents to come up front. In celebration for grandparents' day. I couldn't help but feel blue, feel sad, knowing that you're not with us anymore. Tears rolled down my eyes as I felt yearning. I miss you so bad.

It's been three years since you left us. I miss your beautiful smile. I miss seeing you walking around the house. I miss seeing you standing near our fish pond, waiting for a catch. I miss your hugs and kisses. I miss your cooking. I miss you, the entirety of you. I never fully understood the meaning of the  word “mourn” until year 2021.

Grief never left my side once we met.
Grief is a friend for life.
The kind that shows their face in the most unpredictable moments, never fades away or falls out, becoming more aquatinted as we go through life.

Grief is selfish, wanting our undivided attention, expecting us to indulge in its deep dark thoughts with strong pretention.

Grief is harsh, not hiding nor sugarcoating any attack.

Grief is bitter, grief is unkind.
Grief is a thief, stealing my peace of mind.

If only heaven had visiting hours. But I know you're always here guiding us. I know you're still here with us, guiding us every step of the way.

I love you lola.
Three years without you and it feels like yesterday.
Three years without you and the pain is still there.
Three years without you and I'm still yearning for your presence.

It's okay to be the one who
looks back,
hugs tighter,
stares longer,
loves a little more.
It's okay.

I told the moon about you,
how you would always smell nice,
how corny you get just so you
can attempt to see me smile.

I told the moon how you would comfort me
when I am at my lowest.
I told the moon how you would consume my entire being
without me even noticing it.

I told the moon how your eyes would light up
every time you speak something you're passionate about.
But tonight, I'm telling the moon that I want to be loved entirely,
with all your heart and if you can't, don't love me at all.

Love was never destined to be given
in maybe's, possibly's or i think so's.
I want to spend my days with you,
then it'll be like the first time we met, the first time we talked.

With face masks on, and face shields up,
in the midst of the pandemic,
we let our guard down and fell in love.

This is not your typical love story.
In the midst of thousands of covid cases, we went out on dates.
Not minding the peril.

There is nothing quite so pure in love,
when all the fears with safety goes away,
For you, I'll risk it all. For you, it's worth it.

Love is diving headfirst
into someone else's uncertainty,
and finding
that it all makes sense.

We fell in love, in the time of covid.
And oh, I’ll let you into my heart
but wipe your hands.

I think it’s beautiful
the way you glisten,
when you talk about
the things you risked for love.

The day we met, we sat on the floor, trying to get to know each other, all the while knowing that there's no way out, we lay with our legs entwined. I love you, and it's the kind of love that feels safe. Do you understand? It feels as if you were the one who removed a thousand knives pressed against my heart. You make my heart beat ever-so quietly.

God knows I love you. I hope this will work out. I hope we won't be breaking each other’s hearts. Because I'm sick and tired of people coming in and out of my life. I don't want you to be another heartache.

I lay here silently, loving the way everything unfolded. It's been two years since we met. I built a home in you, and you in me. I hope this lasts.

Stuck in traffic, with all cars hitting their brakes, my best friend suddenly asked me, are you already sure about her?

In a heartbeat, I immediately responded, "yes." For once in my life, I am that certain, I am sure that I want to spend the rest of my life with her.

Then it hit me, that I was able to respond without a doubt, without any hesitations. At the back of my mind, I began to think - I wish you feel the same way too.

It's okay, I tell myself. It's absolutely okay to feel deep sadness about the things I thought I've moved on from. Go easy, go easy on yourself. I know I want to be free. I'll get there eventually. But tonight, I'll allow myself to feel. I'll allow myself to grieve. I'll allow myself to succumb to all the lonely feelings. It doesn't mean I'm weak. It just goes to show how truly and how deeply I cared. I'm not gonna shrug it off.

It might take a little longer. It might require buckets of tears. But I know that in time, I'd look back and remember tonight - I'll remember how lonely I felt, but I still believed that life is significant. I'll remember tonight and feel relieved, that this amount of unhappiness can turn into golden, genuine smiles ...in time.

We’re left with empty paper sheets where the next chapter of our almost never-ending story should have been written. We both ran out of ink— no refills, nothing left to give, no more.

It’s sad that we ended tragically, but what’s even more miserable is the thought that perhaps we are bound to write a whole new book in the arms of someone else.

If only we didn’t spill some ink, we could’ve still written some more.

Early on, you already knew
That for me, this is the worst way
To lose a person –
Clueless, oblivious,
Unaware.

Hey, don't go disappearing. ​
You swore you wouldn't.
But you left without a warning,
Just like everyone else
who didn't have the guts to explain.

Are we over?
You've been missing for days now.
I'm going to walk away.
Enough, I tell myself.
Enough, I repeat it all over again.

I'm no longer nurturing the flame.
It will take a single breath to blow it out.
I'm leaving.
I'm going.
After this, I'll be gone.

Hey, this is goodbye.
I guess.

People always leave. People are temporary. Even the person you love the most, will leave you on a Sunday morning. She'll kiss you goodbye, for the last time.

But you wouldn't know that it's the last. You won't.

When you look back, you'll reminisce how she lingered in those fleeting moments, right before she walked away. You'll remember where her hands touched you, where her lips rested on your skin. You'll remember every bit of it.

On terrible nights, you'll find yourself screaming. "How could you?" Of all the people in the world, I trusted that you would stay. Out of all the temporariness, all the flux, all the transience —you were supposed to be the only exception.

You think about calling them, then you'd be reminded that it's not your place anymore. You almost do, but something stops you. You remember these words you've read. It went something like —

People always leave. People are temporary. Even the person you love the most, will leave you on a Sunday morning. She'll kiss you goodbye, for the last time.

Maybe there is a universe where you do not break my heart. Maybe there is a universe where you didn't leave me feeling awful, feeling terrible. Maybe there is a universe where I didn't believe that I am hard to love, that I'm undeserving of love.

But maybe, just maybe, there is also a universe where someone will love me anyway. There is a universe where someone will see that my anxiety is not my entirety. There is a universe where someone will accept every bit of me. And wouldn't it be nice, if that universe is where we are at the moment. Maybe, maybe.

—apbq

And sometimes you lie down alone and wonder whether you actually meant as much to her as you thought you did.

You wonder whether she thinks of you when she can't sleep at night and miss you like the way you miss her.

You question the decisions you made; could you have done things differently to make them stay?

You get angry – furious even, that they could be so selfish and inconsiderate to accept your love when they likely had no intention of sticking around to reciprocate it.

You’re a mess. You’re a vortex of emotions that words can’t even describe and the worst part is, even though you want to tell them how they made you feel, you can’t.

And that makes you feel pathetic.

Trust me, I know how it feels.

just like how an artist
blends two opposing colors,
to create a breathtaking shade,
i carefully choose my words,
no matter how complex
or contradicting,
just to make you feel
important and loved.
please come back.
come back to me.
come home to me.
i feel empty.

There are pauses in between musical notes and stops between an artist's strokes and periods in between a writer's sentences. We have come to an end. We have come to a stop. But sometimes the only way to continue is to halt. The only way to begin is to end.

- apbq, pauses and stops

i whispered sweet words
right to your ears.
i let you get used to a routine
that was beautiful to me.

but you like girls
who prefer actions over words.
perhaps you like girls
who prefer spontaneity.

and if someone asks me one day,
what will i leave unspoken
and what will i freely utter?

how much further?
how much deeper?
how much farther?

i have nothing left to give.
you have nothing left to give.
we have nothing left.

i have nothing left to say.
i will keep everything in,
– bottled up, like i always do.

i have nothing left to say.
all our cherished, beautiful dreams,
i'll let them float away upon the sea of oblivion.

towards the far horizon,
i'll quietly surrender.
out of sight, out mind, out of touch.

fading quickly while the moon rises,
i have nothing left to say.
everything comes to an end.

i want to open up and release
everything that has been tearing me apart.
but i don't want to be that person
who killed the littlest rays of sunshine left in you.
i don't ever want to take that away from you.
not now, not ever.

hence,
i have nothing left to say now.

treat melancholy and sadness,
like how you expect the storm to come.
it will destroy you.
it will devastate you.
but just you wait,
one day, someday,
it will cleanse you.

i have swollen, light rose eyes
because of the sea of tears  
rushing down my face.

one wave for love,
one wave for fake friendships,
one wave for my family,
and another for myself.

there is a reason
for my courage.
there is a reason
for my mess.

i let it all out,
that one night.
but oh, how come i didn't stay afloat?

i felt like i was drowning.
i'm still drowning.

Truth is, I am your five minute cigarette break. I’m your scotch on the rocks at 10am, and the bottle of wine after a long day at work. I’m everything I don’t want to be, yet everything you want. You can put me out after lighting me up, throw me out once I lose my flavor and empty me out like a bottle of wine. You don’t do it because you can, you can because I let you.

i. you never ceased to begin and end your day by saying “i love you.” it’s the little things matter. it’s the little things that make my day complete.

ii. i know nothing with certainty about most things, but with you i am more than certain. with you, i’m entirely sure. i hope you are too.

iii. let me be your cigarette so i could touch your lips.

iv. i have tired eyes and a tired mind from running away from my demons all day. you know exactly how to calm me down. perhaps you and only you can help me feel at ease. thank you for slaying my demons for me.

v. i feel the sting of the sun. the moon has set. i sacrificed sleep just so i can spend more time with you. i want more hours with you.

vi. i’m fighting off sleep yet again just so i can hear your voice on the phone. sing for me, my love.

vii. i have never felt safe anywhere in this world, until i felt your embrace. your arms feel like home.

viii. you made me listen to a new song today. it’s beautiful. you’re beautiful.

ix. as the band sang on stage, you held my hand. you looked at me while you sang the sweetest line from the song. in that moment, i felt like i’m the luckiest girl in the crowd.

x. for the longest time, i’ve been afraid of heights. “you can do it! close your eyes and jump,” you told me. my hands were trembling. my legs were shaking. i was barely breathing. i took a leap of faith and jumped, knowing that you were there at the bottom waiting there for me. not even my deepest and darkest fear can stop me. you make me fearless.

xi. i only have the silver moonlight in me but you wouldn’t even dare trade the brightest star, the glow of the sun, with the light gleam that i have. you make me feel like i can outshine anyone. “lumiere, darling, you’re beautiful” you said.

xii. i was cold and you gave me your jacket. i saw you shiver while you handed it to me. i knew in that moment that you would sacrifice everything for me. i love you.

xiii. how i wish you would defend me when someone talks **** about me. i feel betrayed. you know me better than they do. don’t do it again, i beg you.

xiv. i’d open the door for you again and again. that’s what scares me.

xv. when we spent time apart, i asked myself, how can emptiness feel so heavy?

xvi. we were talking about our future, and i’ve never wanted to fight for something so much in my life.

xvii. someone stole my color and threw it to the wind. i don’t know if i will still find it, but you still looked at me like i’m the brightest rainbow.

xviii. you said you are afraid to lose me. i am hoping that you wouldn’t have the strength to face your fear and leave. not now, not ever.

I have found words scribbled in books,
words that made me feel the most alive,
words that have understood me completely,
words that have clutched me to safety,
more than anyone has ever done in this lifetime.

There are people you miss
and you let them know.
There are people you miss
but they can’t and shouldn't know.

I opened the old iPhone I had two years ago and I stumbled upon notes I wrote for her. It happened too long ago which is why I don’t remember if I ever sent any of it.

Reading through them, I remembered how it felt like but not entirely. It’s like knowing how something tastes in your mouth without having the actual thing on your tongue. Looking back, there are parts of me that have not changed. I still believe in changing my ways for that one person, going beyond my threshold in spite of the voices telling me to run away. And still, I also believe in letting go when I know I’m not the person who would make you realize you are better than the ******* you portray yourself to be.

Not too long ago, a friend asked me how I was when I fell in love for the first time. I told her I’m not sure if it really was love that I felt back then. But reading through these notes again, I guess it really was love.

And there it is again; the taste of it without having the very thing. I might have forgotten how it was to be in love. But I have also forgotten how real the pain was. Reading the notes through the voice in my head, I could hear myself breaking. My insides churned, but the sensation didn’t feel complete. So I guess this is how it’s like to remember love that’s no longer there.

and at the end of a busy day, i still wonder how you are. i wonder how your day went. i wonder how many times those lines in your forehead creased from confusion or anger or curiosity. i wonder how many times your eyes disappeared when you laughed. did you even laugh today?

that day, i knew i wasn’t anyone special to you. i was just someone who stayed for a while. someone you thought would leave you. i proved you right, didn’t i? i did leave. but i still think about you all the ******* time.

but don’t we all have someone we secretly look out for but don’t talk to anymore?

I peel my lips until there’s blood on my fingertips
Bite my inner cheeks ‘til I taste rust on my tongue
Rip the skin off the corners of my nails
And do things to amplify the pain

I stare at the sun until I’m blinded by its brightness
Hold my breath until claws split my mouth open
Punch walls until my hands are too frail to move
But I do nothing to heal

I fall too easily for those who never notice
I care too much for those who never looked my way
I try so hard to fix myself every time I fall
But end up being sliced by yet another force

I torture myself by paying attention
To those who gave me heartbreaks
I can’t seem to rid myself of stupidity
I can’t seem to rid myself of weaknesses

Who says you need others to break
When your will is enough to destroy your soul
Who says you need others to bleed
When everything you are is enough to cut you open

where did i lose my warmth?
at which place had i turned my switch?

in starbucks? secondhand bookstores?
was it in the local bar or the liquor store?
in houses i crashed, couches i spent the night on
or of dorm rooms i slept at and sheets i found comfortable?

to what girl had i offered it in lieu of the rush?

had i made the trade with the girl
who dragged me through unlit streetlights
as she had her lips perched on mine,
opened my heart with intensity that made her tremble
and eventually turned me into a massive mess.
was it her? i was always too drunk to recall.

or perhaps i gave it away, little by little
to the bartender in a black shirt
with a walrus at the back,
and his sadness was seen in his eyes every night.
we never really spoke.
i ask for shots, he gives them to me.
but he understood. i know he always did.
he looks at me in a way.
all fuckups know why we do the things we do
was it with him?

or was it the cigarette lady
from where i lit my first menthol stick
and swallowed the cough
that i really wanted to release?

maybe it goes farther back

had i lost my warmth in words?
in unsent text messages?
literature? poetry? essays? prose?
metaphors – not at all.

i lost it when i was eight
when i knew about my father's infidelity
when i felt my first rejection
when i felt so unwanted
when my heart broke for my mom
there, in that very dark room had i lost it all.

but the better question should be:
was it ever there?

You’ve managed
to get in my system
no matter how I exert
effort to ignore your
existence.

You’ve managed to
make my heart
feel the warmth of
love again.

But it didn’t occur
in my mind that
you’ll make it colder
than it was before
you came.

Making me wonder,
am I made to be cold
forever?

There are days when words are rushing through my mind, just waiting to be written. I attempted to write about you but words don't seem to add up. They can't seem to find the right positions.

It was all chaotic - the beautiful kind of chaos. I believe that there's a reason why I can't unscramble the words and decipher what I truly want to say, what I feel deep inside.

It's quite ironic how I'm in love with the idea of you, but never with the idea of us. It's a concept that I have never imagined coming together.

Just like words, there are words that are beautifully written, having the most colourful meanings, but they just don't make sense when they are combined. That's how I feel about us.

You have knocked on the high walls
I've built for myself.
I let you in, believing that maybe
you found something about me,
that would make you stay.

I disregarded my walls for you,
but I shouldn't have.
I learned my lesson the hard way -
I should never break down for people
who wouldn't even try to climb them.

I was giving you an ocean,
but you were holding a cup.
Maybe I loved you
more than you wanted to be loved.

Let me tell you,
I didn't relentlessly tell you
about my scars and wounds
so you could just
cut them wide open.

Let me tell you,
I expected you to help me,
to heal me, to hold me
but you just reawakened
my pain.

– apbq, not everyone deserves second chances

When you told me that you love me
I knew
I knew,
I would love you for a long time
and the entirety of you would leave a mark
in all corners of my heart,
in all corners of my mind.

Perhaps, time was never be on our side.
Perhaps, the universe played us too many times.
Perhaps, we tried too much or we didn't.
But I'll never forget when you said "I love you"
I knew,
I knew,
You're going to be a big heartache.

– apbq, i knew, i knew, but that didn't stop me from loving you.

I listened to you talk about the person you used to love.
You didn't describe her like rainbows and butterflies.
You made it seem like she was all chaos and hurricanes.
Yet in the end, you still chose to be with her.

― apbq,  so what made you change your mind?

I used to be her. I used to be the person you'd take out for wings and beers, the person you'd share silly songs to, the person you used to point to when you feel like the lyrics hit you.

I used to be her. I used to be the person you spend hours texting, the person you call when you have no where else to go. I used to be her, the person you spend hours on an empty parking lot with, even if it starts to drizzle, you wouldn't mind.

I used to be her, the person you kiss and hug tightly, the person you couldn't bare spending days away from, the person you greet once your eyes meet the daylight.

But I realized, it wasn't really me. It was never about me.

It was still her. Everything was, is, and will be about her. I just convinced myself that maybe, it can be about me. But I guess it still wasn't.

― apbq,  i was just the girl who was there when she wasnt

maybe we didn't really fall out of love.
maybe we just refused to give each other up.
or perhaps you were to blame,
for you stopped choosing "us" when that day came.
i know i didn't.

― apbq, when i used to say 'always' i meant it

even a bee,
forgets and leaves,
even the most beautiful flower,
once it extracts
everything
from it.

I always feared that the stars didn't align for us
but still words flowed between us,
letters floating through cyber space,
tinged with unspoken love.
Love we half-acknowledged.
Love that wouldn't be.

And so I got drunk with her, even though the 12 year-old me swore that I would never take a shot of ***** or a bottle of beer. I bent my morals for her most of the time, but I didn't mind. I sat next to her in a bar with other people and kept my eyes locked on hers, memorized every detail and felt alive as ever.

And when she told jokes, I laughed. Amidst my boisterous, embarrassing, weird laugh, I did. I laughed so much that I could barely breathe. And when I looked up, her eyes were still gazing at me as I intently looked away.

And at some point, there were moments when she reached for my hand and I let her. I found my fingers curling around hers, like they knew something that I didn't and couldn't admit – I'd keep her, only if I could.

And I was happy and it was like I'd never felt that kind of happiness before. It was new and unfamiliar, but in a good way. I told her carelessly, while my head on her chest, "please don't hurt me, I probably couldn't take it if you do."

And she kissed my forehead and said, "alright." And somehow, somehow, her "alright" was enough for me, even if I knew that meant "I'm not sure if I couldn't hurt you, but I'll try."

And we all know that "I'll try" almost always means "I can't but I don't have the guts to tell you that."

With a heavy heart and a sinking feeling, I slowly realized that we would never have worked out, that we weren't good for each other. I wanted what she couldn't give me and she needed something that I didn't have – something she got used to, something she's familiar with. We lived in perhaps separate universes, and it was only through some mistake, some unfortunate collision we both shared that we had met and fallen in love – if it was even real love.

I knew what I saw in her and how I felt and somehow, despite my instinct that it would all end in tears and heartbreak, made me dive completely in, made me offer all my love and made me irrevocably careless. I knew. I had known. But that did not stop me.

If you knew her, you couldn't blame me.

I don't love you anymore yet there's still the part of me that searches for you in the features of others' faces. Each time I ask myself why, yet I never have an answer.

Sometimes I find eyes similar to yours but when I look into them, I find that they are different and somehow, purer than yours ever were; and ever could be.

Other times, I feel hands on my body that feel like yours but they never are and although I don't love you anymore, I find myself hoping that you somehow you feel me.

Sometimes, I wish you knew how it felt - how it felt to be me and how it felt when you broke my heart and tore me apart. I wish you felt my pain with your bare hands and I wish you could see with your own eyes, what it did to me.

I  don't want you to know what you did to me because you already do. I want you to feel it and see it for yourself so you know it's true.

And there was I on bended knees,
asking God to grant that one wish,
that wish that I've been yearning for.
As I end my prayer, I find myself
asking Him how you've been.

And there was I on bended knees,
still asking Him to guide you,
still slipping little prayers for you.
I hope you're happy.
I hope your wishes come true.

I hope you'll be loved by someone,
who gives you love so deep like the ocean
and so much that it flows like a river out of you.
And I hope she'll never leave you feeling empty,
like how I felt when you left me.

Sometimes, you lie down alone and wonder whether you actually meant as much to her as you thought you did.

You contemplate whether she thinks of you when she can't sleep and dream at night and you hope that she misses you like the way you miss her.

You question the decisions you made and you begin to think deeply; could you have done things differently to make her stay?

You get angry - furious even, that she could be so selfish and inconsiderate to accept your love when she highly likely had no intentions of sticking around.

You’re a mess. You’re a vortex of emotions that words can’t even describe and the worst part is - even though you want to tell them how they made you feel, you can’t.

And that makes you feel pathetic.

Trust me, I know how it feels.

Maybe, in a different circumstance,
I would've loved you more.
Maybe, in any other circumstance,
I would have held your hand,
and gone for long walks along the beach,
for quick, secret, countless getaways.
Maybe, in another time,
I would have given you every part of me.
a thousand times over,
unconditionally,
with no regrets and no hesitations.
Perhaps maybe, in a different circumstance.
But in the end, i know,
we were never really just friends.
We seemed pretty cozy for "just friends."

it breaks my heart because i would do so much for you,
despite knowing you wouldn't do half of it for me.

there is congruence and harmony
in the meaning behind your name
and the time when you waltzed in my life.
i discovered that today.

it was during my lowest of lows,
and darkest of darks,
seemingly devastated by a storm,
when you came along.

your name means rainbow in greek.
perhaps you live out and uphold its meaning.
for you gave back the missing colors,
in my once pitch-black world.

my heart breaks a little
knowing that one day,
we'll be miles apart.

my heart breaks a little
thinking about the fact
that we'll have to battle distance.

my heart breaks a little
considering that someday,
we'll be in different timezones.

my heart breaks a little,
but as i realize how blessed i am
to love someone like you,
my heart starts to break a little less.

my heart breaks a little.
my heart breaks a little less.
my heart will always yearn for you
and i'll certainly wait 'til i get to hold you again.

i could imagine you
filling the empty spaces
– on vacant cafe chairs,
the space on my bed,
even on my passenger seat.
and it hit me,
having you around
even in altered realities
makes everything else
seem so comforting.
perhaps you're my ****** pill.