The year was 2006 and I was brokenhearted.
That was the context of our first meeting.
Looking back, maybe it wouldn’t have been so extraordinary had you not been so attentive and kind. But hey, I was vulnerable, and at that time, the one thing I was longing for was good company which you willingly provided.
Fast forward to 2012 and here we are. Good friends. Very good in fact, that among my friends, you’re the only one I can openly discuss politics with; and we all know how off -limits that topic is around me, especially these days. But I feel comfortable discussing these things– or in fact, anything, at all– with you. From the start, that has always been the case. Which is probably why after you, nobody else could measure up.
Needless to state, it’s been one long emotional roller coaster ride for me. A few weeks back, I was very convinced that I’ve come to accept what we have now–whatever this is– although I’m sure it’s clear to you what this is, and I’m the only one who’s still confused up to now. In fact, it’s always been clear to you, I suppose. And for a while there, it was clear to me too. But then the pattern has always been like this: after a long period of accepting that this is all that we are, you go and do something that totally blows my mind and makes my knees weak, that it makes me ask again: Who are you in my life? Because it’s not just that you’re smart and kind and funny and gentle. It’s that you get me. And you know when to take me seriously or not. When to back off and when to speak. When to say that I’m blowing things out of proportion and when to say that my concerns are really major. My former boss who’s blissfully married once told me: “Pumili ka ng mabait. Yung alam kung kelan papatulan ang pagsusungit mo at kelan tatahimik lang.” Well, that’s exactly what you are.
And so after yesterday, I think you’re back. Ask any friend of mine and they’ll tell you that this is more or less expected. Because no matter how much I try to distract myself by considering other people, by immersing myself in my work, by making long term plans that do not include you, I will always always go back to that corner where I first saw you.
And after six years, it seems like I’m not moving.
I’m not moving at all.