Reading

Reading is
fundametal
fundamettal
fundemutual
good.

I saw this on a shirt when I was in Cebu back in 2003. I fell in love with the shirt so I bought it. It was the first time in 4 years I wore that shirt yesterday. It was nostalgic.

Bye Steven

"Bye John," he said.
"Bye Steven," was all I could reply.

To him, it did not mean anything. That is what he always says when he leaves.
To me though, it was as if it was the end of the world. It was as if I'd never see him again. It was as if I'd never be able to talk with him. It was as if I never can reach out to him, again.

We were at a local bakeshop (that one that makes the best chocolate cakes in the city, the one near the boondocks). We were having cake and tea. And it was time for him to go, and time for me to go back to work.

It felt like it was our last tea together. I know it was our last tea together. And when he said "Bye," I knew very well that it was time to go too.

Tonight, you see, he is going to ask Margaux's parents for her hands (we call it pamamanhikan). They've been together for 3 years now, Margaux and Steven. And it was time, it was their time.

It was so innocent, his goodbye. Before that, he asked me to be his best man. And I didn't say no, I can't say no. I said I would be happy to. I said their story is going to be the envy of the stars. Then there was silence, awkward silence. He looked at me and I at him. He stood up, gave me a pat, looked at me one last time, smiled and said "Bye John."

The moment he said that, I knew it was no longer one of those I-felt-as-ifs. I really felt it. Tasted it. And it tasted like fresh blood and smelt of rust and ash.

************************
How could I see him, look at him? How could I talk to him, reach out to him? How could I care for him and love him when he is already half of this wonderful thing I had dreamed of us to be.

How could I, when I know the other half isn't me and will never be.

I know what will happen next

I was having this conversation with a friend thru text messages. We were talking about someone. Then she cautioned me to slow down. In my reply, I simply said that I know myself too well. No need to worry about anything. I said, I exactly know what will happen next.

I will fall. And i will realize that it can't happen. We can't happen. I'll cry. Then cry some more. All these with him not knowing anything.

At least I now know, too well actually, what my tear ducts are for. And damn! They never run out of tears.

These days, tears are the only thing that make me believe that I am still human.

I am hoping that one day, one random smile will make me believe that I am a human being, worthy.