Sunday, August 26, 2012

bonabels

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the moment she walks in on them in flagrante delicto, i knew i had seen the original movie starring Nora Aunor before as a kid. now, before you judge my parents for delegating the responsibility of child-rearing to the TV screen, let me tell you that my mother was there when i saw it. she was just asleep in certain scenes. i remember how it ends.

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they revised the storyline to make it more current but the gist is still the same. they also tried to incorporate film scenes in between those portrayed by the actors on stage.  i particularly did not like the interview scene. despite all the evidence that the quality of the movies out today have deteriorated and  more and more insipid actors get by on their good looks because majority of the audience is "illiterate",  i don't think the audience needs an explanation.  whatever happened to getting out of the theater thinking what would happen next?  wouldn't it be nice if the audience were allowed to draw their own conclusions as to what happened instead of spoonfeeding (or force-feeding, whichever) it  to them?

while i'm not particularly a big fan of Eugene Domingo or her movies,  i believed her.  i could relate to her Bona.  i've had a boyfriend not call/text/email me for three months but i still hoped for closure and waited on him even though i knew in my heart and mind that it was over.  i've had days when i think that the doorknob to my heart is broken and i will not let anybody in.  i've had days, lots of days, when my gay friends would have relationships and i would have none.  i've had days when i feel like i've been working so hard and yet my life isn't going anywhere.  i've had days, so many days,   when people only remember me when they need me for something, especially money.  i've prayed to God for signs and somehow, even if God was giving the answer to me, i still couldn't figure it out.

the lead male character reminds me of him.  they talk and act the same, but the character he played reminded me of you.  and me.  it was our story.  well, similar.  the play was funny but there were scenes that were hard to watch.  i had this pain in my chest.  i had trouble breathing when they were unfolding before my eyes.  i wanted to slash my wrists.  seriously.  i so wanted to kill myself afterwards.

". . . ayaw kitang saktan dahil alam kong mahal na mahal mo ako. kaya lang hindi kita kayang mahalin."*

it dawned on me, much as i hated to admit it, that she was me.  that you don't want to say it, but that's what you mean.   that no matter what i do, i will never be good enough for you. that even if i was happy doing all of these things for you and i'm not expecting anything in return, people will still think i'm stupid or that i'm trying to buy my way into your heart.  but mostly, that i have to stop.  at the end of the day, it would still be my fault i stayed.  even if you're the user in this picture, i will still be the stupid one for not knowing any better.

i sincerely hope there is still hope for me, that there will be no need for boiling water for me to come to my senses.

i wonder how OUR story will end.



*" . . . i don't want to hurt you because i know how much you love me.  but i can't love you"