Thursday, April 30, 2015

How I Never Met Your Mother [Part 38] – Planning The Comeback

What's that? A year after the updated version of the Pink Puppy arc of my old How I Never Met Your Mother series?

Kids, you know I’m a nice guy. Now my friends won’t tell you that unless they have a gun pointed to their head though. I show my friendship through my meanness and for some reason, people like me for it. My friends know for a fact that when I do something nice for someone, I really mean it. When I apologized to Jill in person, it really didn’t go well.

Ralph: Jill, I’m sorry.

Jill: Whatever. Whatever.
Ralph: I didn’t know what I said—
Jill: Whatever. Whatever. 

Okay, “didn’t go well” is sort of an understatement. My apology was crashed and burned like a race car out of control.

Ralph: What do I do with Jill?
Classmate: You apologized and she didn’t want it.
Friend: Obviously, she doesn’t like you.
Ralph: I'm not giving up on her.
[I should've given up on her.]
Ralph: This girl could be special.
[She was the devil.]
Ralph: I’m gonna apologize and things are gonna work out with Jill.
[No they're not, dumbass!] 

Then I remembered something. Mediartrix, a musical theatre organization in UST, had a serenade service during Valentine’s Day. With 150 pesos, you can get a guitarist and a singer to give a rose to someone along with a serenade. That's like 3 to 5 dollars Canadian.

Ralph: That’s it. The harana services of Mediartrix.

Friend: Oh god no.
Classmate: Yeah, she hates you now and with a harana, she can hate you more in a more festive way.
Ralph: Come on, Jill’s probably nice enough to accept that. I mean, she liked the pink puppy.
Friend: Right after you stalked her.
Ralph: I did not! I didn't do anything like that!
Friend: You made me pretend that I was going to shift to tourism!
Ralph: At least we got the schedule, right? It was a tactic!

Anyway, I asked your Uncle Martin who was a member of the organization at the time how to reserve a slot. He told me to just call the project manager of the serenade services and pay on the day itself. Also, I gave him several specifications on the serenade.

Ralph: Martin, I need you and May to sing. And I want the song “Addicted” by Simple Plan.

I chose that song because of the lyrics. “I'm trying to forget that I'm addicted to you. But I want it and I need it, I'm addicted to you. Now it's over, can't forget what you said. And I never want to do this again. Heartbreaker.” Okay, that song may be a little exaggerated but if I wanted to pick a song that would be sung to a girl that started to hate me then I should have at least a little fun. Right?

I know I’m a horrible person but at least I’m trying to be nice and save face. As far as I know, some tourism girls became aware of me at the time and I tried to keep a low profile. I tried keeping a low profile but a serenade in public wasn’t the best way to keep it. Genius, Ralph. Genius.  What could go wrong?


Oh, right. School Days.
So yeah, that’s how I planned my apology to Jill. Was it good? I’ll get to that later.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015


Things are about to get a lot cheesy and bitter here. You have been warned.

I have a lot of things I wanna get off my chest here regarding someone that I used to consider as a friend.

I met you in summer classes in 2011 because I failed a geography subject. I didn't even notice you at first. I wanted to be with my friends during the summer. A word nor a glance was never exchanged between us because why would we talk to each other anyway? It's not like we have anything in common.

Had I actually passed that geography course, we wouldn't have met, and I'd be better off but hey, this isn't Bioshock Infinite.

Somehow, our first conversation was odd, if I could remember the details. All I remember is that you asked for my phone number and, stupidly enough, I gave it to you. I walked you to the bus stop to where you were going and I didn't bother thinking twice about it.

I was getting a haircut that same day when you sent me a text. I wish I kept that message after all this time.

I somehow, stupidly, started to like you. I don't know why. Was it your smile? Of course. Was it your cheerful personality? Of course. Was I stupid? DEFINITELY. And I regret every single minute of meeting you. I regret ever talking to you. I regret every ounce of effort I wasted on you. The text messages. The worry. The convincing. Yeah, I had to convince you to continue your studies. Because I liked you. You were great. You were my friend. I wanted to be there for you. I wanted to love you, god willing!

Now, we're nothing to each other. I loved hearing from you but you hated me. You loathed me. You hated hearing from me. When I visited the Philippines, the first thing I did was call you. You hated it.

Then I found out your foot got amputated. You didn't tell me, of course. I had to find out by myself. When I finally saw the picture of you with one foot left, I didn't feel anything. No sympathy. No empathy. No remorse. You didn't need it from me. Hell, you didn't want it from me. No, I'm not happy that you lost your foot. No, I'm not happy that you suffered. I am happy that we're nothing to each other. Not friends. Not classmates. Not even in the same country.

After all this time, I wanted to always be there for you. Your friend. Your confidant. For four years, I wanted that but it was all just 4 years wasted. You didn't need me. I didn't need you. So why did I bother, right?

And I won't bother again.

You were a friend but you were my waste of time.