The running Sunday.

At church today, the Youth and the Campus had a sort of mash-up of ministries today, joining for a once-in-a-month's time Sunday service. It's always fun.

Ace kept showing off his prom pictures, and everybody he had shown them to jeered at him about the technical "story of his life," and it is hilarious to note that not a thing can stop him from so. I'm amazed by the fact that he can be so open about such a thing, and when I had told him about my secret interest in Mr. Certain Somebody, Ace lent enough support for me to come to my senses, wisen up a bit, and make a move.

Even though today, I did not make a move of the sort.

The little Bob the Crocodile inside me said, "Woman, one way or another, you better SPEAK to this man!" ...and may James Jean strike my head with a crowbar if I don't do so.

After the service and messages, we were divided into three groups of nine or ten pairs for a supposed relay race.

At knowing Mr. Certain Somebody was in my group, my heart immediately began racing and I bit my lower lip as if it were a pillow stifling a scream that wanted to escape my lower jaw.

Ace took notice at the sudden widening of my eyes and snickered. At least for him, he befriended the guy enough to talk to him about stuff, I couldn't even get a consistent conversation with the dude.

It had something to do with me being too young, too different, too bashful, too silent, I'm sure. I secretly wish it didn't have anything to do with what I was, but to my dismay, no.

I hate how it's always like that.

Anyways, the relay race began, and as instructed, we had to fall into pairs since the objective was to make it from the start of the line to the end by means of carrying a person on your shoulders.

And my heart was racing faster and faster and I was thinking, Oh Lord, don't make me have to ride the shoulders of Mr. Certain Somebody!

Ace was willing to have to carry me, but I had to object, and stated conceitedly yet jokingly, "I'm a lady--I'm far too fragile, man!" Which he took well, I suppose. 

But anyways, I would have preferred to be carried by him instead of Mr. Certain Somebody. If you could imagine my reaction if ever I had to hold on to his shoulders and brace myself by means of intense embrace I would have died as we raced.

Luckily, I didn't have to undergo such public humiliation, for my good friend Pate had been one to carry me.

She had suggested we try the most secure and full-proof way to get us to the goal:

The Fireman's Carry.

As illustrated above.

Surprisingly, we were the only pair to demonstrate the use of the Fireman's Carry, which brought up laughter and praise the first time we tried it.

The second time we did, things got a little out of hand.

Pate, suddenly sparked up with an unknown energy and sense of adrenaline, decided to pump herself quite fast--too fast, probably.

So fast that we had a rather nasty landing at the end. 

I exclaimed, "Pate! Are we slipping!"

She laughed and said, "Make way! Crash landing!"

And simultaneously, we flourished on the ground, legs first for me, as the sudden slide corroded my hipbone and struck my ribs and face, the suddenly fatigued Pate hit knees first to the ground.

OHHH!

We had heard upon impact.

Kel helped us up and asked, "You okay?"

Pate and I laughed, wiping the dust off our faces and said, "THAT WAS AWESOME!"

Best crash landing ever experienced. I was grateful for Kel's reaching out to help us, and worried for Pate who was happily unhurt, and the sting in my hipbone lasted for a while.

We were almost done for the day, yet they decided to make an impromptu round, which most didn't join and plainly watched, cheered, and drank grape juice to while doing so.

Since we were almost done for the day, I had to depart early since my mom had told me we had to get at home soon after the service, considering my brother is left at home.

What I was sad about was that I wasn't able to even say "Hi," or hug Mr. Certain Somebody the entire time, and I had to leave so suddenly. I was thinking of only my sadness as I was leaving the group behind, Desperado playing in my head.

Once again, I was walking, I was thinking of Desperado,

I was once again alone, and yet...

...not alone.

I was very close to reaching the Bahay Ng Alumni after crossing the street from the UP Oval to the other side, and I had noticed a few men with remote controlled die-cast helicopters were flying their own models while so, and stayed for a little, watching them do so.

Then suddenly, I felt speech as smooth and deep as dark chocolate call out to me.

"Hey, Ally."

Of course I knew that voice. He was there, jogging, smiling at me while I was lost in my own world staring at helicopters and thinking about Desperado.

I almost forgot his name for a little because I was so used to calling him Mr. Certain Somebody in my thoughts. "Hey... you," I nervously said, staring at my suddenly fast paced feet.

I tried to use this as an opportunity and added, "The relay race... earlier... was awesome. Even if Pate and I did slip..."

He laughed and said, "Yeah... you going to the Bahay Ng Alumni?"

"Uh... oh, yes. Um... my mom and I have to leave early, because my brother's left at home, and plus our dad's in Singapore. He's coming home tonight."

He nodded and while giving me a light pat on the shoulder, he said, "I'll just go off to the CR for a little. I'll see you later?"

"Maybe. See you."

And I stared there, wanting to cry, heart almost breaking. 

There was a deep pit right beside me, an underground beneath the stairs up to the Bahay Ng Alumni.

I felt as if it wouldn't matter if I had jumped in there.

But then I realized there was more to live for than a fantasy. Much more to live for. 

There was the dad I was going to hug when he comes back home tonight, there was the dream of becoming a comic artist or cartoonist one day, there was the vision of saving the world with the use of God's Word one day.

Too much to live for. Too much instead of ending that life because of my own disappointment with myself.

If God hadn't struck me with the arrows of truth and saved me with reminding me of the better things and better moments in life, I would probably be at the hospital right now, counting down the seconds to my demise.

And I look back on Desperado.

The lyric,

  You better let somebody love you,

comes up.

And to think, for all this time, I've been wanting only a human, a physical being learn to love me.

And as always, it was someone whom I could never, ever have. Even as much as I dream, I wish, I hope.

But then really, why look after a human being, a human being who can fail, who can hate, who can die,

when the One really worth riding fences for, shivering out in the dark and the snow and the hail and brimstone for is the One Who has created you, the One Who has loved you far more than anyone ever will.

It was only worth having just God love me and with His love, conquer every single thing on this planet.

And through Him, this inch inside of me will be set free, the proper way.