Stock room.

I am currently writing this post inside the stock room of the coffee beanery banawe. I hear the steaming, brewing, and espresso extracting from the 3 tiered seat I am situated at. Nine months ago, I walked thru this open utility space with cobwebs, rat fossils, jollibee plastic take outs and dried up leaves as we broke open to the newest venture of my family.

Nine months after, this stock room has filled with so many memories between 10 or more co-workers who eventually turned to be great friends. It has heard the best of laughs, the worst of stories, the endless love stories (or the lack of it), the river of tears, and sometimes, or rather most of the time, the katarayan and the kasungitan of yours truly. Hehehe.

I have always been sentimental over places. Need I say more after Ateneo senti trips and SPCP occasional visits, I do think that this stock room will also be one of the places that I will think back to as one of the places I grew up.

Yes I grew up.

This is where i felt res0nsibility and response ability. This is where i grabbed my life and use my skills as the oc-est i can be. This is where i lead and followed. This is where I felt how to love and be loved. Having someone to be more than friends but less than a lover. To understand love as how it is and not how it should be.To be a love doctor, to be a love patient. Learning from other people through their own experiences. Endless stories of experiences. Hate. Love. Anger. It’s all there. Name it we had it all. This is where I strutted myself on different fashion designs I have been trying – or have been reading on instyle magazines that were always pending due to papers seeming to be so endless way back in college.

I sit here again, looking at photos of my recent past. College days that never fails to make me so melancholy, drastically tearing me up inside wishing I was back in the SS lobby and colayco--- insanely remorseful about the latest event and long test or orals. How can one year pass by so fast?

Change. That’s what all this is. We lose some. We win some. We feel happy, because we choose to be happy.

This is not the end, but a culmination of all those glory days, just as each day is the sum of all the yesterdays… and by far, all the todays have been made sweeter, better and happier because of all the yesterday with them. And all the tomorrows seem brighter with hope as well.

Everyone will just pass through us. It will all just fade away. It is true, I wont tear up because it ended, but I will smile because it happened.

My world is all a what if. A pseudo world of an Anj. A platonic world where everything is perfect. Where everything is just but right. Maybe I choose to be alone. Maybe I’ll choose to be with someone. Maybe. Just maybe.

Detach.

Part.

Grow.

That’s how the game of life is.

But we always…

Learn.

It is hard to keep on hiding a love that could blossom. A budding relationship that could sometime wilt. I feel the urge to let it flow. Casting away all fears, all what ifs, all that will be left behind. I am scared. Of losing him. I am scared, of fighting for him. This isn’t the anj everyone knows. But this is the anj he would like to know. Is it now or never? Or can love wait till it’s the right time? Which no one could know when. Who am I kidding? Who will I be kidding? Who will I hurt? Nah, I'm tired of thinking. Time will tell. emo+emo is just crazy.

and as my cousin said ( love you so much jimby!!)

Understand us, the Heartbroken, those who dive into an ocean of sharks and manage to survive. We’ve endured countless tortures and managed to live once more to tell our sad little tale. Fools we are for having felt love – gave love and received it. We are easily broken, like a glass bottle thrown from a high ground. But again, we are able to breathe, to see, to lift our heads up high, and to believe that one day, another opportunity will come. A new story will unfold. We are the authors of our books. We decide what to do and what to be. We… You… Them… The Heartbroken… Are the strongest of all.