The player was blaring when I arrived at the office this morning. We may have the whole day this way, and my ears are already bleeding. But with this song, I don't think I would mind a little hemorrhage...


Close to You
There's nothing I won't try
Just to make you mine
To get a little closer
Would be so divine
And everytime I see you
You make me come undone
I always want you near me
In you I found the one

Oh, why don't you smile my only star
Shine on baby
Smile my only star
Smile my only star

With you by my side
Girl, it feels so right
And now that I'm close to you
I could stay all night
No matter where I go
No matter what I do
In the end your smile
Brings me back to you

Oh, why don't you smile my only star
Shine on baby
Smile my only star
Smile my only star

You shine so true
I can't believe you're mine
And everything may change
But to me you'll always shine

Oh, why don't you smile my only star
Shine on baby
Smile my only star
Smile my only star


Thanks for the copy, Lucille... GOOD JOB! But you should be done sorting by 5PM.

I sat in the vehicle, looking out the window but not enjoying the sights as I usually did on my way home. My so-called career has taken a nosedive... again. Well, I definitely saw this coming. From the beginning I knew the whole thing's a big mistake. But there's nothing I can do about it now, is there?

It was past midnight when I arrived; an indecent hour to wake people up just so I'll have someone to dump my troubles into. I decided to punctuate the day with sleep, and deal with the drama tomorrow.



I awoke not fully compehending what was it that roused me. Out of habit I groped for my cellphone... it must be somewhere in the bed. When my fingers located the familiar gadget, I held it up against the light, squinting, trying to make out the numbers that spelled the time.

Instead I read: One missed call: meme na.

Ironic nickname for someone with whom I used to spend the entire night talking - oh, you can say that again. But that was months ago, though sometimes it seems like years. That was before I decided to break away; before he met her.

Less than five minutes have passed since I closed my eyes, I realized as I unlocked the phone. There was also a message waiting to be read, apparently from the same source.

Psst... gsing kpb?

Typical Alex. I rolled my eyes. His messages always make me feel like he's just on the other end of the room. I'd love to hurl a pillow at him; I'd aim straight between the eyes.

The first few notes of Canon in D tinged the silence. He was trying to call me. You really wanna talk, don't you?, I thought, a breath short of muttering. I knew he won't stop until he was sure he'd gotten me awake; I, on my part, had to stop him before he got the entire household awake.

"O, bakit?" I asked.

"Tawag ka."

OK, so probably I needed this time with him. It's been awhile. His timing was perfect, actually - but he doesn't know that, right? Not yet, anyway.

I dragged myself downstairs and dialled his home number. He picked up, but didn't say a word. Well, let him have his game: I didn't speak either. Finally, he kind of laughed and said, oh-so-softly, "Hi."

I clenched my fists. I grabbed the nearest chair just as my knees betrayed me, turning to jelly.

I don't remember the first thing I said; all I know is that I blurted out everything before I could stop myself. I sounded almost hysterical. Understandable, I guess, considering that he's the first person I talked to about this newest disaster - really talked to. I had dinner earlier with officemates who were close friends as well, and discussed the matter in considerable length - but somehow it's different when you speak to someone outside the organization.

With a bitter laugh I said, "Ano ba, tuwing mawawalan ako ng trabaho ikaw kausap ko ah!"

He lost no time responding to my little banter. "Tamo, I'm your angel talaga."

My angel. I gripped the receiver so hard I heard it squeak in protest. "Haha. Angel ka dyan."

"Oo. I'm here to guide you again. Kaya pala bigla kitang naalala. 'Kumusta na kaya si Anne?' Tamang-tama talaga."

Funny; I didn't think of him at all while trying to fight back the tears on my way home. "Talaga lang. Bola."

"Hindi nga. Pakiramdam ko kailangan talaga kitang makausap ngayon." Yes, and the urgency was so great he didn't care if the rest of the world was peacefully asleep. His smile was tangible through the telephone lines. "Tamang-tama talaga." he repeated.

I chose not to reply; I simply understood. I can't believe we still had that connection - ESP, whatever you may call it. I was touched, to be honest. He really considers himself as my friend, even if he actually noticed the lame excuses, the mood swings, all attempts to tear myself away from his company. "Nagtatampo ako sa 'yo." he declared once. But after five seconds he decided he didn't want to dwell on it. Everything's OK again, except that it left me feeling enormously guilty.

I took in his sympathetic words, knowing full well that he meant them. He reminded me that once, he had to face the same situation, and I was there. Sometimes all you really need is the knowledge that someone understands.

Soon enough, the subject has completely changed. God knows we have a lot of catching up to do.

"... yung girlfriend ko." I heard him say.

My heart lurched. Oh my, here it goes. I braced myself, imagining that someone had just turned on the shower full blast, and the cold water will rain down on me any minute now.

But he didn't gush as I expected him to. He didn't behave like an infatuated schoolboy. He just stated the anecdote matter-of-factly, then that was it.

"Talaga?" I interjected, trying to be conversational. "O, kumusta naman sya? Di ba graduating na yun? Ano balak nya?"

"Ayun..." And he threw in details about the job fair the girl attended to recently. He didn't gush, he didn't babble, but one can't mistake the emotions he must be feeling while talking about her. It all came so naturally, like she was a part of his system, the very air he's breathing.

Not too long ago it infuriated me when a mutual friend of ours commented, "He's really in love with her, you know." The words stung, perhaps because I knew the truth before everyone else did, even before Alex himself realized what's going on. And the fact that someone else acknowledged it in total innocence didn't help. God, I wanted to break something - a bottle of soda I emptied earlier, the mirror resting on the nighstand, my cellphone. I settled for a curse uttered through clenched teeth.

Tonight was the first time I faced the truth head on. My friend was in love... finally! Nobody would suspect that this is the same guy who called me "mushy" instead of "romantic," and constantly teased me for being that; the guy who used to tell me that "love is just a state of mind," who'd wheedle me to introduce him to "cute girls" so he could flirt with them every chance he got.

I used to dream that someday I'd make him realize that on the contrary, love is the greatest thing one can ever experience. In silence, I lived for the nights when we'd talk until Apollo claims his place in the sky. If that was love, I have no clue - well, you tell me.

But the role wasn't meant for me. The realization hurt. I prayed that he would just go away until time puts me back together, strong enough so the pieces will hold in case I encounter another blow. I avoided his calls; I ignored his messages. But I was doing it excessively it just cut me deeper and deeper. It did more bad than good.



The clock announced that another hour have passed. It was four in the morning. "Tulog na tayo?" he asked for the nth time. Long goodbyes never failed to participate in our conversations.

I smiled, wanting to hug him tight. I missed the guy. "Sige..."

"'Night."

"Alex?"

"Hmm?"

"You're my angel."

"I know."

I was too happy to feel pain.

The other day I went to SM Manila to get some pictures developed. A few minutes later my fellow passengers and I waited for the driver to convince himself that all space in the vehicle was occupied; we're good to go. I exhaled, relieved when I felt the jeepney inch its way onto the road ahead. Finally!

We barely covered a few meters when we heard an angry voice shouting curses. It was unintelligible at first; you could say that the speaker was literally choking in his anger. It was a man, a barker, throwing insults at a driver somewhere out back. From what I understand of the situation, the driver gave the barker's share to the wrong man, and when the "true" barker demanded his pay, the driver refused to give some more.

Well, that caused the barker to throw a fit. He pounded his fists again and again on the front part of the jeepney. And, to the horror of the onlookers, another man - the barker's partner, apparently - lifted a huge stone and using it, made a slashing motion on the side of the vehicle. The rock was bigger than an average man's head. I heard several sharp intakes of breath from my fellow passengers. Some muttered unconsciously in shock and disbelief.

I was angry. Where were the police in times like this? I've seen a number of them not too far away, and heaven knows they're too many to be crammed too close like that. Why don't they spread out? Something like this going on and they don't even have an idea! But how could they not have an idea? The commotion isn't even out of earshot!

But, thinking about it: OK, let's say that traffic was probably really bad that a dozen policemen was needed on the same spot. Nevermind that it looked more like they're gossiping than trying to prevent vehicles from stalling. Besides, if they intevene - what could they really do about it? I doubt they could stop the almost-crazed man; he might even resort to greater violence if restrained by the authorities.

Oh well. But you know what's really sad about this? It makes one wonder if we've reached that level of poverty, of despair, that a few pieces of coins could drive a man into this madness, this self-absorbed behavior.

Let's hope not.