The glass fell from the wooden table and shattered in thousand pieces over the black marbled-floor. It’s as if I was staring at the stars, but instead of gazing up I was looking down. The stars on my feet, only a meter away from my hands. I know if I reached out, I’d injure myself. 

Beautiful things come at a great cost – sometimes it can hurt and sometimes it is better left untouched. 


Mid-air. I am falling, non-stop. Gravity pulling me back to the ground. I hear your voice, familiar and comforting “Take my hand, take it. Do not hesitate.”

I then smell flowers, strong and wistful. Now Im walking towards a river, blue and foamy. I see you sitting by the rock with your feet submerged, you were waving and inviting me to come and take a plunge. I knew it was freezing because you were shivering but you try to hide it. I can see through you though. I will always see. 

I wake up. I realize I’m still alone in bed, sweating. I hear my heartbeat – loud and thumping between my ribs. I can hear your name in every beat; my heart screams for you, pulsating through my veins. My heart was is restless. 


I was blind for how many years for I failed to look at the bad side of everything. Is it a blessing or a curse? 

I’ve always had the liking for good things – of sweet stuffs, wonderful words, of sunsets, and of falling leaves. But through the years, I have realized that behind every good thing there lies an opposing counterpart.. the familiarity of bitterness after tasting sweet perfection, of remorseful words, of the lonely night that follows a beautiful sunset, and of the bare tree after all the leaves has fallen out. When you lost sight of pessimism, you will expect good things from everyone.. then a simple refusal will break your fickle bones. 

Never expect because nothing is there that will last forever.. no can, and no one will.


I really wanted to talk to you. I hesitate. I can’t. Because talking to you is rendering torment to the person I love. We live in two different universes – you with overwhelming praise and infinite possibilities, and me.. me in a world of feigned affections. When will you see me? When will you liberate me?

I hesitate to take the courage to ask you one more time. To ask you of what we are, and what will be. I hesitate to show you kindness for you may interpret it as frivolling. I hesitate to look into your eyes for the reason that a single eye contact unlocks my Pandora’s box. I will be down on my knees to beg you to be with me. I will hope, and hope till the end of time. 

I hesitate to show you the way because I myself may get lost on the path I might guide. I don’t want to be lost, but if lost means being with you.. Then I won’t hesitate being found by your side. 


I want you here and whisper me words. Warm words and colorful ones. Those that make sleep full of wonderful dreams and mornings unforgettable. I want you here and trace your back with my fingertips as we snooze our way to Neverland, where we float on magic boats and travel for eternity. I want that smile you make every morning and say you want a hug in a low and tender voice. I want you here with me, always. I want you forever.

Operation TULI

If it weren’t for my good friend Almera’s persistence on participating in the operation tuli and a good number of acute absence of uncircumcised kids in Ubaldo Laya, Iligan City – I wouldn’t be taking the risk of performing minor surgery for the first time; putting me through the course of having to assist and observe then perform the surgery myself minutes later.

Okay. Stop. What’s my point here?

I am talking about our recent free operation tuli (circumcision) last May 14 in three baranggays in Ubaldo Laya, which, depending on your own experiences was either a primer or a continuing education for a very basic minor surgery. (Which in my case, a primer where I have to struggle how to properly hold surgical instruments, accurate suturing, prepare the set, etc. One thing; I SUCK.) – downfall of having BS Zoology as your undergrad before medicine. But anywaaaay, it WAS my first time and it WAS expected.

So the course goes like this; every upcoming second year student was paired with an upcoming third year medical student (I was paired with Raff). So, the juniors are to observe and assist with the seniors. You are being taught and advised on what to do and what every step are for. Two fourth-year nurse students are to assist me while Raff is going to be there for any questions.

Raff finished the operation on our first patient with ease, me nodding with every instruction and taking note of every detail he points out. The last thing he said before walking out almost took the soul out of me; “Okay, I’ll bring in the next patient and you’ll operate.”

Yes, I was glad he trusted me after one operation and believed that I can do it though I was a bit hesitant because yeah, IT WAS MY FIRST TIME. So I took the challenge with one thing on mind; this is learning – learning with no room for mistakes because this is happening in all actuality with a 7-year old patient showing his uncircumcised peepee.

“This is an easy task.” That line keeps on repeating on my head like a broken record – over and over and over again. My hand was unstable and can’t stop trembling (I was like that since undergrad even with a cat as a test subject during dissections), and I can’t even talk to my patient properly (due to language barrier perhaps?). Standing right next to me are two nurse students, who in all fairness, was glad to assist me all the way. I was talking to them to relieve the tension I was in.

A few moments later, with the last stroke of suturing needle and last loop to tie the knot – the operation came to a success. Fortunately, nothing went out of place. I knew I took prudent risk for accepting Raff’s test after one observation but it was an accomplishment.

I got my story and pushed beyond my fears, while reining recklessness with ease. After that one operation, I knew I was ready.. ready for more.