Juan Miguel Severo : My Longest Short Forever


I had trouble sleeping, and by trouble I mean the meanest among all the troubles.

I took my sleeping aid just as before, promptly a little after 10 in the evening and waited to take its effect, normally about 20 minutes.

But the last time I check the clock, it was past 4 in the morning and my nose is dripping like crazy.

I felt so sick I fell asleep.

It was the longest dream I had.

I was sitting in front of a long white table along with other people looking at different colored chips in front of us. But we were not to play poker, we have big chunks of clay instead. I never understood the game.

What I understand is, I saw my ex facilitating the game and I knew that I had to win. The reason, only those who were really broken before could understand.

I don’t know if I won. I stood up as the game comes to halt and talked to one of the elderly who happens to be a good acquaintance of mine.

You approached us.

Funny, I just liked your page 2 days ago and now you are standing in front of me.

“You know, I tell my friends we are very close, though I only saw you once,” I laughed to cover my lame attempt at flirting.

I then told you the first and last time I saw you, you captured my attention which very hard to catch. Ha.

It was an open mic poetry in one of the little cafe in Makati. You stood out. Of course you do. You’re like May-Pac fight, you were the main event.

You were the first person to make me feel alive with so many emotions by just saying a bunch of words.

“Why didn’t you recite your poem?”, you ask.

“Because I wanted to run away. Because I wanted to cry. Because I wanted…”, I stopped as the sorrow lingers through my words. I never thought I wrote such poem. It was so long ago, years even. About him. But now, he doesn’t matter.

You called my name to bring me out of my trance. “C’mon”, and we went around the place introducing me as your friend.

The longer we go, the closer we were.

I would hug you from behind as you talk and you would not mind.

Sometimes, when I’m talking, you’d put your arms around me and kiss my hair.

The audience tries hard to hide their smiles.

People are starting to settle down.

“Mic test. 1,2,3..”, the announcer echoed these words as we froze in place facing each other.

You’re going to the stage in a couple of minutes, you were the reason why we are all here. You were the main event.

I wanted to tell you good luck, though you clearly don’t need one. You’re always a masterpiece.

I wanted to tell you that I’m afraid you might forget me.

But hey, it was a great time being a public figure’s friend at least for a short minute 🙂

And I’m used to being forgotten anyway.

I looked up as you came closer. I gave a faint smile.

I still couldn’t make a sound.

I held on for your shirt tightly, I know you’ll get it. The strong connection we had right away. It was very rare for me.

Then you kissed me with full passion that I could not put into words.

I could only describe it as: the way I always wanted to be kissed.

Then you stopped abruptly, leaving me confused.

You ran to your paper and wrote vigorously, your poem.

And, you’re crying?

You sat down not saying a word. I was left alone standing in the same spot staring at you wide eyed.

“The more like this have, the sexier you are..”, you said as they started to introduce you. What does that mean?

You were sweating and nearly in tears like you were reciting your poems.

But you’re not.

Are you nervous? You were never nervous.

“You are so sexy, so amazing. Don’t waste it on…”, I could not hear the last word over the loud voice of the announcer. “Make an action, create your move…” The audience applauded as the announcer finally said your name.

You stood up and walked past me, battle face and ready.

“Once again, please welcome, Juan Miguel Severo!”, the announcer boomed over the mic and I opened my eyes in the real world.

Its now few minutes past 9 in the morning. I was asleep for only 4 hours.

Tears washed any lingering memories of those moments. I know I can’t just swim back to you. It’s impossible.

Once again, I’m left with the harsh reality that only I could remember what happened. That I am cursed to feel the love that was only in my dreams.

It happened before, and it happened again.

We actually do meet in dreams, share the exact moments, but only few can remember after they wake up.

I was right. After all the applause, you will forget me for you will wake up.

And just like I said, it’s great to be friends with a public figure.

It’s beyond words to be loved in those short moments.

And to be kissed the way I always wanted even only in dreams.

That I have lived happily in my longest short forever.

Juan Miguel Severo

(P.S. A tribute to Juan Miguel Severo, Artist, Singer, Poet. Great talent pushed past my consciousness and into my dreams. Haha)

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