Fairy Tale No More

The living room was starkly dark and the only light came from the television on which I was gazing intently to. It was 3 a.m. this morning, and everybody in the house were deep sleeping but me. Alone lazying in the couch, and with a can of Baron's at one hand and the TV remote control on the other, I was completely submerged by the spectacle I was experiencing.

The place was Athens Greece's Olympic Stadium. The occasion was the biggest game in football next to the World Cup, the UEFA Champions' League Final. The finalists are Italy's powerhouse AC MILAN and English giant LIVERPOOL. Each team has won the cup 7 and 6 times respectively. It was actually a repeat of the 2005 final between the two sides in which Liverpool won, staging the biggest comeback in the cup's tournament to beat Milan. Naturally, AC was out for blood this time, relishing on the prospect of revenge with their defeat to the English team 2 years ago.

For almost two hours the game has taken me as if i was a part of it. I am a fan of the two sides that clashed, but more weight of my heart goes to Liverpool. They have created so many chances in the first half and dominated the game, but wasted such chances, sending the ball to anywhere but the goal.

Before the struck of half time, as if the Italians has finally summoned the Roman gods to do their bids, Andrea Pirlo's freekick went past the Liverpool wall, and deflected by Fillipo Inzhagi to caught liverpool keeper Jose Reina off-footed and into the back of the net.

The second half was never the same. While Milan grew more confident, The Liverpool lads became more unorganized and paid the price of another goal when Inzhagi poached another goal from a superb pass by the Brazilian playmaker KAKA.

Liverpool did get a goal back through dutchman striker DIRK KUYT, but it was too late by that time. And as the referee's whistle filled the air, Italian celebration erupted while the English are left heartbroken with anguish and despair. The Italians, who first coined the word "Tragedy" in their Roman plays, has unleashed a bitter one to the men from Merseyside.

Not far from the stadium is the area where the ancient Dionysos theatre used to stand. It has hosted all the great plays of Aeschylus, Sophocles and Euripides but few could still have had such a mixture of joy and misery as this. But unlike the plays and what they did two years ago in Istanbul, no fairy tale ending this time for Liverpool. For the night belongs to Milan.

In a prison cell just opposite the Acropolis, the Greek philosopher Socrates committed suicide when he drank a fatal dose of hemlock. And guessing from every teary- eyed Liverpool supporters present in that stadium, they must have felt like doing just the same.

Captured Moments

Jean has finally came back from her sister's wedding in the Philippines and brought some pictures. I'm sharing some here.


Happy after losing 23 pounds in 3 months


With Eldest sister Prima


With the Ring Bearer


Ring-bearer Barako


Chancing with some old friends at the supermarket


Fergus adored his baby cousin and has been asking for a baby sister since coming back


With Mom and sisters


Bumping into an old friend from way back.

Bluer than Blue

Being lonely is a bizarre thing. You can be lonely but not alone. I guess it's that craving within for a companion or a loved one, or both. I knew the feeling. I've been lonely before (well, who hasn't?). Yet when we feel at home and we have the people we've always longed for, you seem to forget that feeling of isolation and desolation that goes along with being lonely. In my case, I totally forget about it. How it feels or how it affects you. for two years straight I've been numb of it... Until now.

It's my second day being alone. Jean and Fergus went back to the Philippines to attend her sister's wedding and will be gone for over a week. At first I was excited since I have a thing or two in mind that I can do while the missus is away, like getting together with some friends and going out together. But then, one by one, the things that I thought were very ordinary, things I actually just took for granted sets in.

When I wake up alone yesterday, There was no breakfast waiting for me. No hot coffee. No croissants or eggs. And since there's nobody to woke me up, I was late and just had a brunch at lunchbreak. Upon coming home, the house is un-lit. There's no tyke rushing towards me to give me a hug and ask if I have a new toy for him when I opened the door. Nobody came over to give me a kiss and ask how was my day at work. No prepared dinner, so I had to make one for myself. After that, I had to wash the dishes too. Well, I used to do all of these work before when I was living alone, but I guess I was so used to the comforts that my wife does for me that it becomes everyday- ordinary for me. And more often than not, it all went unappreciated.

When I went to the bedroom, it's as messed up as it was when I left it that morning. The bed was not made and the usual nice scent wasn't there. Nobody's watching the TV and no teleserye dialogue can be heard. When I took my night bath, nobody's barking at me to off the heater after or prevent me from soiling the carpet. I can draw or sat infront of the game console with nothing to bother me.

... And I don't like it.

Actually it's not as much as not liking because I can live with it. The cooking and the dishwashing and the washing/ ironing/making the bedroom. I can do that. I've done it before and I can live with it all over again, of course with some adjusting needed.

... But not without my family. Because what i missed most are not the chores done but their presence. The hugs, the kisses, the conversations, the banters and petty quarrels. Not to mention joining your wife while she watches her favourite teleserye. Or the laughter that my son generates while we draw and play together. These things are priceless.

So enough with all the thoughts about beauty in solitude. I want the noise back.

As of now, I'm living in a house. And it won't be a home until my family is back. Because it's the family that makes the home and it's always where the heart is.

... And I can't wait.