sushi

i've known him since 1991. i was in college, he was in high school. we were both part of the new parish choir that would sing at 6 am. then, i didn't know he existed and he thought i was one of the unreachable and arrogant oldies of the group. i was the "in via" musical director, not my official title but my de facto job. he was one of the best singers. i noticed this 7 months after the choir's conception. we were rehearsing for caroling and a christmas presentation, and i was trying to teach the men the scale of notes leading towards a diminished harmony in (eudy's version of) "pasko na, sinta ko". only he got it on the first try. that got my attention immediately. after that, i wondered why i had never noticed him before. he was unassuming, so much so he almost appeared drab and mousy. but that was just his style. he liked to recede and let others shine. with his intelligence, he helped friends discover their strengths and shine on their own.

he's an amazing writer, and despite the 5 year gap between us, i could see his talent. he did come from a family of writers, so that should not have surprised me. i suppose i was more awed than surprised. he was so young, but he wrote from a wellspring of such depth that could only speak of a life filled with pain.

how i loved him. love is so short, forgetting, too long. (neruda) my boyfriends were wary of him but could not deny the inexplicable bond between us. even now, in spite of the vast distance between us, i know that he will be with me always. when it dawned on him that i was really going to marry S, he went ballistic. all the years before that decision, he had been the man in my life, even when i had a boyfriend. he was the only man i begged to marry me, and the only man to tell me, "i'm sorry, i don't love you enough." the only time he knew he was losing me for good was when he saw me break off my engagement to his friend so i could be with S.

he stood as a secondary sponsor at my wedding, and absolutely refused to become my "man of honour". i felt that he knew me best in the world, even more than any woman, so i insisted that he be my 'man of honour'. think of all the rumours that would fly, he implored me after one of my tantrums, hoping to sway him in his resolve. i relented. i knew that in spirit, he would be the man of the hour, taking care of the tiny details that only a best friend can. and he did. of course he did. i never doubted he would come through for me. ever.

even if he is perenially tardy. i've lost more hair than i can count and ground more teeth to cavity hell to remember if he was ever on time for significant events. i might as well scratch my way to the grave before i can come up with any clear memory of his being punctual. now that's one for the books!!! but it really doesn't matter that he is always late. because he has never abandoned me. i can never once recall an instance of him turning his back on me, of him throwing in the towel. in spite of our bitter quarrels... the painful words hurled at each other... the hurtful invectives. through the torrent of my meanness he has emerged, quick to forgive, always willing to give.

i'm his only best friend. as he will be mine. until the day we die.

where is he now? halfway around the world, encrypting programs for an american software giant. i feel his absence like a breath held too long. after good friday, black saturday, and easter sunday, i realise i will never have another friend like him. i might run after all the elusive friendships here in europe, but his will hold me up when i have no one to talk to. he is the only one who can make me burst into tears through yahoo chat and the only person who can finish my every thought and feel my every pain. we share silence like an old blanket on a rainy night or a mug of hot chocolate in the wee small hours of the morning.

i miss you, sushi. if you only knew how much. don't you ever forget that i'm here for you. you can yell my head off... but not without me clawing back, of course. :)

parameters

more than a year in belgium already and the clock never stops ticking. am used to the language (tho i do not know it yet --- not fluently, at least), the way people look. even the way people behave around asians. they do think that anyone asian is chinese. (that kind of ignorance i am learning to ignore)

snow is really something. it sends mikka into dizzying spirals of joy. it cuts my years in half. and that of S's, too. at night, it fills the air with magic. i keep reminding myself to savour these precious moments. pag-uwi ko sa atin, wala na 'to. sa ngayon, di ko na-mi-miss ang init, usok at pawis. not yet. i haven't gotten sick enough times to yearn for warmer climes. the time will come, i know. it's just a speck on the window sill for now. years from now, when mikka's old enough to understand the value of reminiscing, i want to tell him, "one time, you, papa, and i were walking through the streets in the evening. and we danced through snow! it fell from the sky like giant cotton balls. your eyes were slits and your laughter echoed off the wet stones of that old city. you were so happy. our hearts were jumping that night."

and then i have perennial fears. of bullies, and bloody accidents, and meanness all around. i keep thinking that if i could spare my son my life, i would. but then again, that's how i learned to be stronger. i wouldn't be who i am today without all those slips and falls. but if my son could be as wise as i am now without having to fall the way i did, i would sleep more easily in the nights and years before me. ngayon pa nga lang, uneasy na ako e. oh well. only time will tell what shall betide us all.