2020 Chaunne-Ira Ezzlerain Masongsong
the collection choose any letter you wish to read; choose all of them if you want to.
an early love letter to my significant other an unexpected letter to my one and only a love letter to my almost LOVE LETTERS TO MY FIRST Dec. 7, 2020 Dec. 9, 2020 One of my Twitter drafts for you. Dec. 20, 2019 (poetry) Dec. 11, 2020 Dec. 12, 2020
an early love letter to my significant other I can’t remember the times when you made my heart beat fast but I do remember the times when you made my heart stop beating. There were 3 times: an idle evening in the office, my 20th birthday, and the 6th of October. 1) It was an idle evening in the office. We usually have our residency in the office because it’s needed in Student Media Organizations. Nevertheless, we like just hanging out there. It was already 6 PM and we were freshmen, which meant that we usually don’t have classes after 6 PM. I went to the office to do homework. You went to the office to give me a gift from Taiwan and because we were invited to an art gallery opening in the Museum of Contemporary Art and Design. You were avoiding me, though. I think it’s because you have a feeling that you will never have a chance with me (I usually like girls, not boys). Usually. You were avoiding me because you were afraid of getting your heart broken. I, on the other hand, was subconsciously pushing you away because I was afraid of you not liking the real me. But you already bought me a gift from Taiwan and you had no choice but to give it to me because who else will you give those cute and small socks that would only fit my feet, right? After giving it to me, I said thank you with the biggest smile I have and was about to hug you— you dodged it. Rude. But I guess you had to. I stayed in the office that night while you went to the museum where they offer free wine. You went back to the office and you were tipsy. Goddamnit, you were cute. But no. I told myself that I wouldn’t allow myself to like anyone at that time. “No to dating 2019!” No to heartbreak, no more! But goddamnit, you were so cute and so handsome with your glasses and your tipsiness and your jokes to our friends. Noooooooooooo. So I just changed the topic to songs. I mentioned my favorite song. “Did you know that my favorite song has your name in it? Its title is ‘Someone who loves me’” Fuck. What the fuck, why did I say that. And then while looking down, you then looked up at me and stared. And goddamnit, you made my heart stop. I couldn’t breathe. And that’s when I knew that maybe, it’s possible, that you could be someone who’ll love me. 2) It was my birthday. There was a storm. You took the bus from Quezon City all the way to Las Piñas City. It’s funny how people joke about people from the North never going to the South but it’s always the other way around. There you were, though. But of course, I’m not going to lower my standards to be amazed at someone who can travel from North to South. I’m not really that shallow. What actually amazed me is how you were like a puppy seeing its owner come home when you saw me through a window, sitting at KFC. You happily hopped off from the bus, smiled, and waved at me. On that day, there were only a few people outside because of the suspension from the storm. There was
a storm but in Las Piñas City, there was no rain, no drizzle— only suspicious clouds from up above. Happy birthday to me, though. I just turned twenty! And it was really no surprise that the streets were empty. There’s always a storm on my birthday anyway. That’s why I am named “Storm.” What I didn’t expect was someone who smiles as bright as the sun would accompany me on my birthday. What I also didn’t expect was someone willing to go through hoops for me, even though he was very tired; even if we were still not officially together, just exclusively dating (there’s a difference!). You were so jumpy and asked me if I would like to go to the movies. I did! It’s decided. We went to see a romantic cliché with mainstream stars. It’s okay. We went to get popcorn and Coca Cola and then sat down in good seats. The movie wasn’t starting yet and you were very tired so you chose to close your eyes. I can see it through my peripheral vision. And my heart is beating fast because I never wanted to look at the people I like in fear of falling in love with them. We’ve never said I love you to each other yet and I wasn’t even sure. But slowly and carefully, I took the risk. It felt like my heart was beating a hundred beats per second. I never took this risk with anyone. I always allow them to fall in love with me first. But it was different with you. I took the risk of falling in love with you as I turned my head and looked at you. With your eyes closed, you looked so peaceful. And then my heart suddenly stopped. I wasn’t going to admit it back then but in that moment I knew, I chose to be in love with you. 3) It was the 6th of October. It was really just a day like any other. You finally have a condominium unit! Congrats. And I still have an Accounting exam the next day! Yehey. Well, anyway, you were gracious enough to let me spend until 11:00 PM in your unit instead of letting me stay in RoyalTea, where I usually stay to finish my academic and organizational responsibilities until the shop closes. At least, by staying in your unit, I wouldn’t have to pay 110 pesos for a milk tea and leave my things for 30 minutes to pay for a 99 peso take-out meal in Sinangag Express across the street. Instead, you cooked for me! Well, for us actually. It turned out to be a simple date night. You have a massive window looking out to the dirty streets of Taft Avenue, Malate, Manila. But it’s also nice to see some lights from faraway buildings. Our fancy meal for that night? Your special dish of rice with peas and carrots! And of course, it wouldn’t be complete without some cold water. You laid out a towelette to serve as a placemat for your pot of rice on the cheap plastic dining table you have and then put on your LED speakers to at least set the mood for our simple date. It was so cute. Of course, I helped set up our table. I wouldn’t want the chef of the night to do all the work! And while setting up the table, I fooled around, laughing, and pretended to fall. Surprisingly, you caught me! But instead of pulling me back up immediately, you slowly held me close and looked into my eyes. And time was so slow, with you in your black t-shirt and me in my blue-striped dress. Before I knew it, we were slow dancing to my favorite song: Someone Who Loves Me.
I never told you how much it meant to me that we were slow dancing. The only thing I’ve ever wanted with my girlfriend before was to share an intimate moment of slow dancing with her. For me, it’s a symbol of love. But I never had that moment. Then I thought maybe I was just being a hopeless romantic and those moments only exist in movies. I scrapped the idea of ever slow dancing with someone I love unless it was prom or something. But you did. And you didn’t even know. At that moment, I wanted to cry. At that moment, my heart did stop. My heart stopped and I knew. I knew it was worth it that I waited for you. And funny enough that in three days time, I then asked you to be mine.
an unexpected letter to my one and only I hope you can forgive me. If I can’t love you the way you want me to. If I can’t give you what you want me to give you. And if I can’t allow you to touch me how you want to. I hope you know that I forgive you. For wanting more than what I could give you. For telling me words we both know isn’t true. And for holding onto the love I have for you, even if it would mean you won’t be able to close the space between us or have another woman do. Nevertheless, I still love you. And I hope it would be enough that I kiss your forehead at night after turning out all the lights. In between breaths, I promise to wrap my arms around you to the point where it would feel like we could melt into one. I promise to sing you lullabies for you to sleep tight. I promise to listen to your desires and I promise to won’t ever tell you mine. It would be an agreement we won’t have to make. All we have to do is look into each other's eyes, put our hands on each other’s chests, and feel if there is any pain in them. Our lips touch but you know it will never be enough. But I am willing to sacrifice a little bit of what my lips want as long as you’ll do the same with yours. I would do these to calm your heart and put your mind at ease, as long as you’ll do the same for me. After all, it’s our unspoken agreement that we would love each other as long as we could because what we have is something so rare— we are afraid of never finding anything like it ever again. I am the first woman you’ve ever loved this close and you’re the first man I’ve ever loved without inhibitions. I will tell you “I love you” a thousand times until I couldn’t anymore, and until you forget that my heart wants to belong a little bit to all the people I loved before you, and a little bit to all the people I will love in the future. And you will tell me “I love you” a thousand times until you decide that this should be over, until I forget the fact that whatever I do, I will never be enough for you. We both know our ending is inevitable so I will kiss you however you want me to until it slips away from your mind that I want to be kissed by someone else— someone with hair as long as mine, with hands as soft as mine, with lips akin to mine. I will kiss you until it slips away from my mind that you want to be close with someone else—someone with hair as long as mine, with hands as soft as mine, with lips akin to mine. Lie to me if you have to. Tell me that this is all you need and that will make do. Tell me I’m enough even though we both know I’m not. Tell me that you don’t want anything more and I’ll pretend I forgot. Lie to me if you have to. And I promise I’ll do the same for you. I’ll say that I would never want anyone else. And that this is all I’ll ever need. I’ll tell you all this to put your woes to rest. Even though we both know it’s a lie.
Let’s lie with each other until we both change our minds. Lie with me as I hope that my love for you and your love for me is enough to make us both stay in this relationship, in this agreement. That I would still choose sleeping by your side at night, with our feet touching, our hearts beating in sync, and our bodies intertwined. I’ll lie beside you with nothing else but love and serenity in between. I’ll cherish the afternoons where you make me laugh with your childlike wonder and I hope you’ll cherish the afternoons where I sing to make you feel better. I’ll choose to bask in the warmth of your smile in mornings where we wake up to each other, moments where you’ll wipe my tears and I’ll kiss away yours, lunches and dinners where we’ll share food and ideas just to dream together, sick days where you’ll tuck me in a blanket and give me hot soup and me doing the same for yours, lazy Sundays where we’ll work together in coffee shops without talking to one another because knowing that each other’s presence is enough to make our day a little bit better, idle dates where you’ll hold my hand and I’ll pretend to fall but you’ll catch me and suddenly we are dancing slowly through it all. I’ll choose to hold on to those hours, days, weeks, and months and hope that they are enough. Enough for you to forget, and for me to forget, the minutes at midnight we’d rather have with somebody else.
a love letter to my almost Dec.10, 2020 It’s funny how a photo from my Memories from Google reminded me of you. It’s ironic because in that photo, there were no traces of you whatsoever. Just a place that was special for us. A place where we had our second date. “On this day 2 years ago,”it was the day of our second date. And I wish I would have known that it would have been our last. If I had known, I would have held your hand longer; I would have kissed you harder. I would have told you how I wanted us to last forever. I would have held my breath as long as I could to stop time. I would have broken all the clocks and watches in the universe to freeze the moment of you and I. The moment of you and I holding hands, with my head on your shoulder and your hair tickling my neck a little bit. To freeze the moment of you and I looking into each other’s eyes. Afraid of the uncertainty of our tomorrows, the uncertainty of the “storm,” the chaos that the yellow butterfly you saw in your garden one day might possibly bring. The butterfly effect. Chaos theory, your favorite theory. And I told you that a yellow butterfly means hope. But even if you look at it from different theories of literature, science, spirituality, and even conspiracies—in the end, it’s still a butterfly. And according to your favorite theory, one flutter of a butterfly could create so many things. But if we factor in a variable that Einstein says that slows down or speeds up depending on how fast you move with it relative to something else, if that butterfly flaps its wings one day in May, it could bring a hurricane in July. In time, we would both have to face the inevitable chaos from our little glimmer of hope. Our time together felt so slow but at the same time, so fast. And maybe I felt that my feelings for you were moving faster than your feelings for me. Maybe I noticed that everyone else’s clocks were still stuck with you and your past. Maybe I was scared that I was going to face the hurricane alone. So I took a halt. And it caught you off guard. I still remember you were wondering why. Why I ended it abruptly. And this so-called love letter is my explanation not only to you, but to all the people who were also wondering why. Why it seemed like there was something different in the atmosphere, a sudden change of weather:
Dec.10, 2020 It’s funny how a photo from my Memories from Google reminded me of you. It’s ironic because in that photo, there were no traces of you whatsoever. I noticed that you love taking pictures to preserve moments into memories. You took a lot of mine, but never to post and never to keep. I remember you told me I look cute after taking my picture. So cute that you would want me to be your girlfriend in the future. I don’t know if you kept that photo but I do know you like keeping photos to serve as a reminder, a memento. You did keep a lot of your past lover with you two both in the picture. I was a fool for thinking that we were just waiting for the hurricane. Little did I know that it already came and I was already in its eye. In the eye of the hurricane of you and your past lover. I don’t know if I should say sorry when I didn’t even know if I was really the cause. You told me that you two were over. And you told me that he knew. But the world didn’t know because it still cheers for you both. It pained me to hear even my friends ask questions about you two. Not having an idea about us two. It hurt that I had to keep us a secret. Like there was always an invisible stretched out string in the parameter of my heart. And it snaps every time they ask about the girl who secretly held my hand in the coffee shop and the boy who loved her for years. But I endured the pain as long as I could. Even if I knew you would never fight for me like I would. But I guess it eventually took a toll. When I saw your photo with him on your refrigerator. And it still pains me until now, that they don’t know about our pictures. It still pains me until now that I wasn’t allowed to show the world of what we had together. It still pains me until now that you went back to him and kept posting pictures of you together. But who am I to be hurt?
When from the very beginning, I was never really in the picture.
LOVE LETTERS TO MY FIRST Dec. 7, 2020 I don't know how to write a letter to you now that I'm not hurting anymore. I find it difficult writing a letter to you because after years of trying to move on from the pain you caused me and I to you— I finally have no more strong feelings for you. No rage, no sadness, no regret— I think. I’m happy now. You’re happy now, too. And I guess trying to imagine myself in the position of that pain again scares me because I will vividly remember what I felt and I will start to get unhappy again. I mean, I can’t even bring myself to listen to love songs, watch movies, and even read stories that are remotely similar to what we had. I am terrified of opening the dam in my heart because what if there’s water still? I am afraid to find out. Dec. 9, 2020 There was a time in my life where I wrote letters to you everyday and you never knew because I only sent you a few. I've written a hundred letters that remain unsent until now. Letters written on different pages, notebooks, digital notepads, and even Twitter drafts. Some of them, I didn't even know were love letters until it was too late. Until now, I still regret not saying anything to you about them. Maybe if I did, we would have ended up in a better place and we wouldn’t have to experience the fallout we had back then. I don’t know. I’m not really sure. Maybe this is the first step in writing a love letter to you: remembering my regrets and all the drafts I’ve saved. I remember wanting to rewind and start all over again with you. I remember wanting to time travel to all the hours I’ve lost, determined to spend them right this time, with you. I remember wishing to take back all the moments where I’ve hurt you, wipe all the tears I’ve caused you, and right my wrongs to spare you from the pain. I remember telling myself that I would do all of these if I could. But I couldn’t because life is not a movie we could rewind, it’s not a film we could edit, it’s not a song from a playlist we could remove. Honestly, I wanted to say sorry to you for years on end. But I thought it would be the best for both of us if we never saw each other again. And I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for thinking that the greatest apology I could give you is to stay out of your life. I honestly thought I didn’t deserve the closure I wanted from you and I thought you didn’t need mine. Nevertheless, that’s all over now, we both moved on. I don’t know what else to say but if the world permits me to rewind, edit, and remove the bad parts, I know that without skipping a beat, I would.
One of my Twitter drafts for you. Dec. 20, 2019 (poetry) Patawad, Ang gusto kong sabihin. Tatawid ako kung maaari At lalapit kung papayagan. Walang pag-aalinlangang Aamin sa mga kasalanang ‘Di papalipasin ng kahit panahon man. Kung papayagan, kung papakinggan Yaong mga salitang may talim at Lalim ng nakaraan, kundiman hatid ay paglaya, Ang hiling ko sana’y sapat na lamang muli ang aking mga salita. Dec. 11, 2020 I figured it out.
In order to write about you, I have to forget you. I have written a hundred letters, anecdotes, songs, and stories about you for the past 5 years. And writing this new love letter to you requires me to rewrite every moment, every letter, every song I have for you and delete them to the very last letter, to the very last punctuation mark, and to the very last space. Just to write about you once again, recreating our story from my memory, hoping that the ending between us changed; hoping that we both did; hoping that my feelings, my pain, my thoughts about you did. It should be. We’re f riends now. If I were to repeat and rewrite our story, I wonder how different it would be from the first time? All I know is that in my attempt to rewrite our story— my letter about you, to you—I would have to resurrect all the things I declared dead. One more time. I’m not sure if I’m ready for it. But here it goes, a letter to m y person. I don’t know if you still are. I never called anyone m y person even after you stopped being mine.
I guess it’s because at the time, no one can compare to the kind of love we had. For me, our love was a combination of different kinds of colors: blue, yellow, gray, violet— but most importantly, different
shades of red. Maybe because it reminded me of how we felt for each other: intense and rebellious. We were kind of like rebels back then. We had no choice but to always sneak our kisses, our hand holding, and even our looks in mundane settings: at school, inside the bus, at the bookstore, and even in our own houses. It was always a gamble for us, a game where the odds were against us because they can’t know about us back then. It was forbidden and I wish I can say that it only felt forbidden, but at the time, it was. And maybe that’s why I wasn’t able to love you right. And I wish I could say sorry for all the things that happened to us. But I know that some parts of it weren’t our fault. I want to say that we were young and we didn’t know better, but for people who were young— we were pretty smart. And I know that if that were to happen now, I would still fight for you. But this time, I won’t be terrified of denying it. Dec. 12, 2020
Hi. I know that in the past I’ve hurt you. But I also wanted you to know that you hurt me, too. I used to lie in my bed, feeling its emptiness without you, wondering if I would ever love again. At some point, I thought that we all just got one shot at love and I used up my one and only arrow for you. In writing this letter, I have to retrace our fallout. You know the pain you get from stabbing your toe at the end of the table? The pain you feel when you can’t stop vomiting from being so drunk? The pain you feel for knowing that your crush of 10 years will never like you back? (in my case, thank god). The pain you feel from being slapped, from getting hit by a motorcycle, from being only a second option, from getting into fights with your parents, your boyfriend, girlfriend, pain from losing friends, pets, and even the loss of sentimental trinkets? If you pack them all in one grenade and then you throw it at me: that’s what it felt like when you left me.
But you know how grenades work? It takes two to six seconds before it explodes after you pull the pin. And then the explosion would be so fast that you wouldn’t notice that your surroundings have already blown up into flames. And in that millisecond where the grenade is still exploding? For me, it was never ending. That millisecond of explosion went on for years—in slow motion. It went on for three years and you didn’t even know. You probably thought I was fine. I fucking wasn’t. I never told you that I hated that. I can assure you that I’m fine now but I still think there are remnants of the fallout scattered and hidden in every part of my life. In that explosion, however I may try to forget you— I just can’t because the explosion went on for what felt like forever. It eventually ended. But I guess it was fucking funny how seconds after it did, you came back into my life. And I didn’t mind.