my deadly rebellious streak @ 42

This week, last month, 7 months ago, it’s been a year. 32 years. This weekend was culminating. It was out of impulse. It was long overdue.

Saturday. The sun was burning the streets . It got my cheeks roasted red and broken. Freckles crawling on my upper arms. I wish I was vacationing in Bora, getting this tan while wearin’ my fave Esprit bikini tops over my chocolate brown mossimo boy leg … dreammmm on.

It was a huge signage in a sleepy alley. I wasn’t sure what got into me that day. But to know his alive, and awake, contented and happy wasting time on that side of the planet. That made me smile. Soon nuff I was trekking that old lonely street up north tearfully . Softly wishin’ butterflies so I could fly myself there to him and be part of hisworld, but it’s not me that he wants.

You won’t notice I just landed on your shoulders even when it’s never me that you wanted. I was so closed makin’ that kiss for real but you shove away even the gentlest one. :(

Right after egress. Got a little boozed up with VDM pips. The pool was inviting but I don’t like chlorine on my skin these days J . Got up early, packed my little bag … back to the streets of Laoag, rain touching my face. I love early morning peaceful walks, water and breeze. J

I was early. Janer was a little late. I was nervous. He was calm.

I originally wanted daisy chains or anything symbolic and sweet on my ring finger. My high school friend Mary Liza and I were planning about getting inked as soon as we get to our hometown in time for our silver year reunion. That was December last year. Her hubby got sick so she had to postpone her plans of coming home. Many things happened to me between December and today. Between December and the first half of 2011.

But there was something about this weekend. That drove me a bit wild and spontaneous. Bent. This feeling makes you fiercer than physical pain.

I remember my first butterfly. All the wrong and right reasons why I was so serious in getting butchered. That was 6 years ago. Last weekend, I was more driven. For all the wrong and right reasons. I needed that knife again.

One shot for the pain.

Another for anger.

Last one for complete abandon.

Marley.