It’s 3 am, the clouds are moving, the city’s asleep, the silent sound makes internal noises. Staring up at the ceiling, you probably wonder right now what memories you had back then.
I remember you; every inch of you. The Moreno color, your Aficionado cologne that smelled all over the house, your favorite blue polo that I’ve got you, your hug when we meet, and your smile.
We both live in Pasig and study along with the Universities in Manila. The two-hour travel time would really exhaust you. Every day I would take the train to school, while you take the FX. We never concur to be together on our way to school. It was impractical to wait for each other. Each missed wagon of the train adds more people to it. Which makes it difficult to enter the train and survive on it. When you wait for each other and lost 5 minutes, you will be late for about 20 minutes. The cost of riding the FX is cheaper than riding the train. But the train is faster than the FX.
Even if we’re not together at the morning rides, you would always pick me up along Taft Avenue at around 4 pm. During those time, LaSallian students would be out and about to do things on their own. While I was excited to see you and come home with you. We would meet at Vito Cruz station. From there you would watch me walk up the stairs. You were smiling, laughing, and cheering for me. Whenever you meet me upstairs, you would joke around about how hard walking up the stairs was. Then you would ask how my day was.
My day was? There’s so much to tell. Some days are good, some you just really need to rant. Singko was the worst grade I had and being told that I’m stupid by a professor was one of the worst days. But even if the days are bad, I would be sure that I would be okay just seeing you at that station. Open arms to make me feel okay.
On days that we can’t afford Ramen, we would eat Chowking’s wonton soup and be satisfied with it. We had a routine; you’ll take the order and I’ll get the tables. For some reason, I’m always the one to fail. It’s hard being a shy person without looking like a thief waiting for the tables to be left. It’s funny how you sometimes get the tables faster even after lining up at the counter.
The soy sauce makes it look like it’s Ramen. Eating soup makes your heart feel a little better. After eating, we would go home, part ways in the Tricycle line.
Sometimes, we give our Wednesdays and Sundays to each other. It’s the only day we can spend our whole time with each other. When my parents are not around, you would come by and bring donuts. Having the luxury, Netflix was all we did. Watching and Re-Watching series or movies that would make our hearts satisfied.
Sometimes I would be at your house. In a small wooden house that’s made to be a Mechanical shop. I never bothered how scruffy it looked or how many cars were parked. I would always be happy sitting in your car-seat bed with you. I’d be wrapped around your arms like a baby. We would watch on your cellphone or just talk about life. The topic future would be the scariest yet exciting thing to talk about. “25 kids”, you said. Shockingly, I laughed and never agreed to that. You always know how to make me laugh; how to make me happy. I don’t know but sometimes I’m a failure at making you happy. I have little knowledge of making you happy, but you said I did make you happy. I just didn’t know when or how.
I would always prefer your house to mine. Even mine had many things to offer; yours offered the one thing I finally found, home. The simple life that made us feel so happy was all I ever wanted. I remember the time that we weren’t fit in your car-seat bed so you would volunteer to sleep on the floor. I wouldn’t agree and together we sleep with one pillow and a blanket on the floor. Cuddling, kissing, making love to each other, and more are what we did all day. After that, I never felt so safe, so secure that I never want to leave.
But we had no choice. We had to separate ways. As per a relationship, there’s always ups and downs. But the downside was what we focused on. I sometimes wonder if we only hadn’t hurt each other, we wouldn’t end up like this. There’s so much happiness yet so much pain. It’s very difficult to forgive, knowing that you trusted this person for a very long time just to break it.
That was a long time ago from now. At this hour I thought, I’d give anything to be back at home. To be back with you. Maybe we separated to heal. Maybe when we’re older we’d still be together. Until then, I’ll wait for you at that station, eat Wanton soup, and finally come home to you.