The more I talk to you, the more I realize how scarred I am.
I am sorry that you came along at a time when I badly need to be taken care of.
I never imagined that things would turn out like this. I never thought that someday you will come along. I should've waited for you instead of putting myself out there and getting hurt. Then you wouldn't have had to bear with me as I disgustingly lick the wounds of my past.
Thank you for understanding me. Thank you for putting up with the emotional wreck that I am, and for knowing that I am crying even when you can only hear my voice. Thank you for offering to call me when you know that I am really getting emotional. Thank you for being sensitive enough to know that I am not comfortable with a certain situation, and for telling me not to be sorry. Thank you for setting your confusion aside to console me and tell me that you would not do anything that the ghosts of my past did. Thank you for still wanting to talk to me, everyday, even when a lot of our conversations suffered because of my flashbacks. Thank you for putting a conscious effort to free me from the shackles of my fear. Thank you for treating me very gently and kindly, and not shoving that effort down my throat and telling me that I need it.
Thank you because you keep filling my list of why I should always make an effort to keep you.
Thank you for letting me know that even after all these struggles I have with myself, you still think that I am worthy of you.
I thank God for you. You are the best gift that I received this year.
Saturday, December 21, 2013
Friday, December 13, 2013
I met a stranger who made me realize what I have been missing all along.
We met each other in a very unconventional way.
Right then I knew you would be different. The Chocolate Chip Cookie among the pretentious Oatmeal Raisins. I approached you because your email signature quotes a line from a song on the Submarine soundtrack. I love Submarine. I love that song. You seem to be a very interesting person.
We chatted. The only identity I knew of you is that you will be celebrating your birthday in three days, and we are three years apart. You study Criminal Justice. I didn't know your name and where you live. You didn't even know how I look like. You only know that I have a nice smile, as you told me.
We talked about music and we ended up discussing our favorite bands and you suggesting your favorite albums to me. I have always been one to end conversations with strangers easily, but it was different with you.
That conversation was followed by another. You were from the southern part of the US, and you were surprised when I told you where I am from. "Wow. I didn't expect that. Are you a transplant, just like me?" Apparently you thought I was also an American with the way I talk to you. It was kinda funny. "But our countries really have strong ties." you added.
We talked about a lot of things, from vinyl records to sheepherding drunk people. Both of us are the sober ones in a party. I never imagined putting the least bit of effort to sustain a pointless conversation with someone I don't know. I must have been out of my mind to even agree to talk to you on the phone. It was a bold move for me, as I hate my voice and I don't want others to hear it, especially when they have the option not to.
But you looked forward to it, and we agreed to talk the next evening. I liked the sound of your voice. It gave me a soothing, calming feeling on a night that I had to take a sick leave because of a fever.
We don't know what to talk about, so I suggested that we play the 20 questions game that I got from a Palanca literary piece. We took turns in asking and answering questions about each other. In that moment, I felt like an onion being peeled off to the core as I reveal things about myself.
"How nervous are you right now?" You asked me.
"Very," I answered.
As we went through the game I realized that this is something I haven't experienced until then. It was the first time that I stayed too long on the phone, talking to a guy about random stuff. This is what I have been missing, during all those nights that I thought watching a Killers concert on my iPad is the best way to spend the last moments before I fall asleep.
"Tell me something you would only tell a stranger." I said. I never knew you would tell me something so intimate that it made me guilty that I asked for it. I felt trusted as I heard the happy-sounding guy I was talking to earlier become a bit more fragile.
"Do you have a photo that is more revealing... of your face, and not just the lower half?"
"Well of course, of course. Okay I'll send one to you. Later."
To be quite honest I thought we would not reach twenty questions. We only need two to be bored. But we even exceeded. I think we reached at least thirty. It lasted for an hour. The only people I talk to on the phone for an hour is my mom and my best friend.
And now, you.
The call was cut short when Yahoo became wonky. "You should get a Skype." You jokingly told me.
"I have Skype!!! You just don't ask me!!!" I answered back.
"Well I'm asking now."
It was only then that I knew your name. I have told you a lot of things about myself, and I know a lot of things about you, but I just knew your name. I knew your name because Skype told me.
You said you enjoyed our little game, and added: "You were so nervous. It was cute."
I melted.
"Why wouldn't I be? But seriously, thank you."
"For talking? Or for the compliment?"
"Both. But mostly for talking. And your patience."
I sent you a photo, revealing my face. It was the first time that I revealed my face to a stranger that I met on the internet.
"Haha, look at those cheeks. :P Cute."
I blushed and hated you at the same time.
You asked me what time I go home and what time do I fall asleep. I know it's because you look forward to talking to me again. I answered, because the thought of it makes me happy too.
"Must be difficult to adjust to." You said.
"I'd like to think that the perks of living on a different time zone outweighs the hassle, though."
"To be fair, it's easier to talk to you. So there's that."
OH. MY. GOD.
"Would you like to talk again for a bit? On Skype, this time? With a little surprise, perhaps. Call me."
I did, and you were on video. This guy, who was at first a stranger from the internet is now a living, breathing being in front of my eyes. As you said hello, I wanted to jump through the screen and give you a massive hug. You kept me company the entire night that I was sick and showed yourself on video to make me feel better. It did.
We talked for a short while, and then both of us had to go.
"I hope you don't regret wanting to talk to me." I said.
"Your accent is cute. I'm sure I won't."
You think my accent is cute. I never knew I had an accent. And I never knew that anything about me would be labeled as "cute".
"Haha, Okay. I think I'll just take that as positive."
"It is a compliment."
"Thank you. Well I have to go now. I'll catch you again sometime."
"You need your sleep. And you certainly will. :)"
(WHAT IS PBB TEENS. GUYS. COME ON. OMG KILEGZ.)
I felt the dead butterflies inside me come to life again. They were fluttering so wildly that I felt like I need to vomit. For real. It was the first time in a long time that someone put a smile on my face as I sleep.
______________________________________________
The next day, you Skyped me the moment I got home from work. You showed me your favorite records, but unfortunately my internet connection is getting in the way of a massive sparks moment. We had to settle with voice chat.
We don't know what to talk about, exactly. There was a lot of dead air but neither of us is hanging up. One just asked the other if a question comes up. Then dead air again.
"Why don't you answer your own question yesterday? The one where you made me tell a secret I haven't told anyone else."
"Ah, yeah... Something I would only tell a stranger."
"Or someone far away."
You don't think of yourself as a stranger anymore. And personally, I don't treat you as one either.
I told you my greatest fear. Your assurance that it will not happen is very soothing. I secretly wished you will be the one to keep that fear from happening. I felt the sincerity in your voice.
"How many strangers have you talked to online?" You asked.
"There were two others. But you were the most awesome."
"Why is that, precisely?"
"Because you know how to sustain a conversation."
"Haha, it's very evident on the amount of dead air as we talk right now."
"Well, we have a lot in common and that always gives us something to talk about."
What I didn't tell you is that even in that silence, I am happy. I just listened to your breathing. You gave me the certainty that there is someone I can talk to, even if that person is half the world away. You made me feel how it is to have someone waiting for you to go online.
You made me realize that all I needed is someone to listen, and you are that someone and more.
_____________________________________________
I never thought that something I dreaded so much would give me so much happiness. I never thought that this kind of happiness used to lie in a stranger's hands. I never thought that talking to you would be something I'd look forward to when I get home. Maybe we can talk again sometime?
"Haha, certainly. I'd like that."
Now you know John Mayer's lecture on his introduction to an acoustic version of "Love Song for No One"? If there is one thing you should know in conversations with potential sparks, it is to NEVER, EVER underestimate the power of "I'd like that."
And I know that this "I'd like that" carries a lot of potential for us.
Right then I knew you would be different. The Chocolate Chip Cookie among the pretentious Oatmeal Raisins. I approached you because your email signature quotes a line from a song on the Submarine soundtrack. I love Submarine. I love that song. You seem to be a very interesting person.
We chatted. The only identity I knew of you is that you will be celebrating your birthday in three days, and we are three years apart. You study Criminal Justice. I didn't know your name and where you live. You didn't even know how I look like. You only know that I have a nice smile, as you told me.
We talked about music and we ended up discussing our favorite bands and you suggesting your favorite albums to me. I have always been one to end conversations with strangers easily, but it was different with you.
That conversation was followed by another. You were from the southern part of the US, and you were surprised when I told you where I am from. "Wow. I didn't expect that. Are you a transplant, just like me?" Apparently you thought I was also an American with the way I talk to you. It was kinda funny. "But our countries really have strong ties." you added.
We talked about a lot of things, from vinyl records to sheepherding drunk people. Both of us are the sober ones in a party. I never imagined putting the least bit of effort to sustain a pointless conversation with someone I don't know. I must have been out of my mind to even agree to talk to you on the phone. It was a bold move for me, as I hate my voice and I don't want others to hear it, especially when they have the option not to.
But you looked forward to it, and we agreed to talk the next evening. I liked the sound of your voice. It gave me a soothing, calming feeling on a night that I had to take a sick leave because of a fever.
We don't know what to talk about, so I suggested that we play the 20 questions game that I got from a Palanca literary piece. We took turns in asking and answering questions about each other. In that moment, I felt like an onion being peeled off to the core as I reveal things about myself.
"How nervous are you right now?" You asked me.
"Very," I answered.
As we went through the game I realized that this is something I haven't experienced until then. It was the first time that I stayed too long on the phone, talking to a guy about random stuff. This is what I have been missing, during all those nights that I thought watching a Killers concert on my iPad is the best way to spend the last moments before I fall asleep.
"Tell me something you would only tell a stranger." I said. I never knew you would tell me something so intimate that it made me guilty that I asked for it. I felt trusted as I heard the happy-sounding guy I was talking to earlier become a bit more fragile.
"Do you have a photo that is more revealing... of your face, and not just the lower half?"
"Well of course, of course. Okay I'll send one to you. Later."
To be quite honest I thought we would not reach twenty questions. We only need two to be bored. But we even exceeded. I think we reached at least thirty. It lasted for an hour. The only people I talk to on the phone for an hour is my mom and my best friend.
And now, you.
The call was cut short when Yahoo became wonky. "You should get a Skype." You jokingly told me.
"I have Skype!!! You just don't ask me!!!" I answered back.
"Well I'm asking now."
It was only then that I knew your name. I have told you a lot of things about myself, and I know a lot of things about you, but I just knew your name. I knew your name because Skype told me.
You said you enjoyed our little game, and added: "You were so nervous. It was cute."
I melted.
"Why wouldn't I be? But seriously, thank you."
"For talking? Or for the compliment?"
"Both. But mostly for talking. And your patience."
I sent you a photo, revealing my face. It was the first time that I revealed my face to a stranger that I met on the internet.
"Haha, look at those cheeks. :P Cute."
I blushed and hated you at the same time.
You asked me what time I go home and what time do I fall asleep. I know it's because you look forward to talking to me again. I answered, because the thought of it makes me happy too.
"Must be difficult to adjust to." You said.
"I'd like to think that the perks of living on a different time zone outweighs the hassle, though."
"To be fair, it's easier to talk to you. So there's that."
OH. MY. GOD.
"Would you like to talk again for a bit? On Skype, this time? With a little surprise, perhaps. Call me."
I did, and you were on video. This guy, who was at first a stranger from the internet is now a living, breathing being in front of my eyes. As you said hello, I wanted to jump through the screen and give you a massive hug. You kept me company the entire night that I was sick and showed yourself on video to make me feel better. It did.
We talked for a short while, and then both of us had to go.
"I hope you don't regret wanting to talk to me." I said.
"Your accent is cute. I'm sure I won't."
You think my accent is cute. I never knew I had an accent. And I never knew that anything about me would be labeled as "cute".
"Haha, Okay. I think I'll just take that as positive."
"It is a compliment."
"Thank you. Well I have to go now. I'll catch you again sometime."
"You need your sleep. And you certainly will. :)"
(WHAT IS PBB TEENS. GUYS. COME ON. OMG KILEGZ.)
I felt the dead butterflies inside me come to life again. They were fluttering so wildly that I felt like I need to vomit. For real. It was the first time in a long time that someone put a smile on my face as I sleep.
______________________________________________
The next day, you Skyped me the moment I got home from work. You showed me your favorite records, but unfortunately my internet connection is getting in the way of a massive sparks moment. We had to settle with voice chat.
We don't know what to talk about, exactly. There was a lot of dead air but neither of us is hanging up. One just asked the other if a question comes up. Then dead air again.
"Why don't you answer your own question yesterday? The one where you made me tell a secret I haven't told anyone else."
"Ah, yeah... Something I would only tell a stranger."
"Or someone far away."
You don't think of yourself as a stranger anymore. And personally, I don't treat you as one either.
I told you my greatest fear. Your assurance that it will not happen is very soothing. I secretly wished you will be the one to keep that fear from happening. I felt the sincerity in your voice.
"How many strangers have you talked to online?" You asked.
"There were two others. But you were the most awesome."
"Why is that, precisely?"
"Because you know how to sustain a conversation."
"Haha, it's very evident on the amount of dead air as we talk right now."
"Well, we have a lot in common and that always gives us something to talk about."
What I didn't tell you is that even in that silence, I am happy. I just listened to your breathing. You gave me the certainty that there is someone I can talk to, even if that person is half the world away. You made me feel how it is to have someone waiting for you to go online.
You made me realize that all I needed is someone to listen, and you are that someone and more.
_____________________________________________
I never thought that something I dreaded so much would give me so much happiness. I never thought that this kind of happiness used to lie in a stranger's hands. I never thought that talking to you would be something I'd look forward to when I get home. Maybe we can talk again sometime?
"Haha, certainly. I'd like that."
Now you know John Mayer's lecture on his introduction to an acoustic version of "Love Song for No One"? If there is one thing you should know in conversations with potential sparks, it is to NEVER, EVER underestimate the power of "I'd like that."
And I know that this "I'd like that" carries a lot of potential for us.
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