The Story of "Us"

I have to write this down, because it overwhelms me everytime I recall all the good things that happened to me last month and during the recent days. It was heaven.

I think I've already told everyone I know that I went straight to hell and went back and made it alive in the recent months. If it's possible for someone not to exist the whole month, then that would have been me last July. I was practically nowhere, unconscious in bed, almost not sure if every day would be the day I'd give off my last breath on this earth.

However, it is true that it is during these crucial times that you can prove who among all people you've encountered in your lifetime are the ones who care for you and love you. Well, at least after you've made it through and woke up, that is.

When I woke up, people who I've missed, people who are not most likely to be there on my suppposedly death-bed were there. Both my parents, who were estranged for the longest time, were there holding my hands like we're family once again. Friends and relatives who came all the way from the Philippines were there, too. All the people that I've missed, all these people who, after years of thinking where they've been, were there, waiting and praying for me to wake up. Sarah, Cesar, Uncle Danny, Tita Cyrene... even my long lost friend Cynthia who happened to be in California that time, they were all there praying for me, hoping God would still give me a new life. And when I did wake up, tears of joy are never enough to express what I felt. Yes, when I immersed from hell, it felt heaven.

Later I realized that it's all thanks to one guy who, even if he's not able to make it to where I was, made everything possible so that I'd be waking up in heaven. This guy, who I consider my best friend, who, after all these years of me finding where I would belong, made me feel that there's still a place left somewhere to come home to, worked so hard, even out of his way, just to make sure that people around me, people whom I love but lost for a very long time, would be there when I wake up or during the last days of my life.

Not only that, he had made an impossible thing possible. My dad and my mom are now talking, considering to get together and starting to talk about what life could be for them if they'll be together (since they're already getting old for the games that they've been playing for a very long time)... this guy made me feel something that I've missed since I was a young teenager, a feeling that I seem to have forgotten not until now... the feeling of being a daughter to my Dad and my Mom. And you could only imagine the immense joy that I feel everytime I see them together now. It makes me cry. It makes me remember days when I was still so young- happy innocent days with both of them.

I am so so very touched by the love that I felt that day when I opened my eyes for the first time after fighting death. I'm supposed to be condemned for having my life endangered for such stupid choices that I made before this predicament. I feel that I don't deserve the affection and kindness that I am receiving right now. But as I came out of the dark, there they were. There was I. There was him, smiling on the background, perhaps, and relieved that I was able to make it back. I am so so very grateful to the one who have made it all possible.

As soon as I was cleared by my doctor, I went back to celebrate my birthday with relatives, just so to make sure to them that I'm already fine and well. Actually, that was only an excuse- I really wanted to go home to see this guy, my best friend, and to personally thank him for all the love that he'd made me feel.

You know when you pray, you should ask for only small things. God usually grant small things. That day when I got home, I wished God that he'd grant me just more quality time with him. During my last visits, I only had a couple of hours for a good chat and gimmick with him. This time, I wished for more than that... I wished that we'd be together just as how we were back in college- not caring for anything else in the world but just me and him together.

As soon as I got out of the airplane and met him in the arrival area of the Centennial Airport, I was surprised with what I saw. I heard the usual "Kumusta, Kitkat", but this time it was said by a slightly weary-looking man, thinner than ever, with gloomy eyes that, as if, lost it's usual shine.

What happened to him? What happened to the young man who had always given me light in the midst of life's certainties just by thinking about how bright he sees life? What happened to the heart that I used to consider home?

The gladness that I felt seeing him again after a very long time swiftly shifted to sincere sadness. "What happened to you? What's wrong?" He didn't say a word about it, even after that day and the days after when we got certain chances to be together.

He is never healthier than before. Years ago, he could keep up with me when we tour Manila and places out of town together. This time, he preferred staying, sitting on one place, talking about life itself and how things had been before I went away last time. Socrates gets easily tired. I insisted on letting me know what has weakened my Superman. I thought it was me- while I was hospitalized, I know, by what my father had told me, how busy he got just to arrange all things needed if ever I pass away. I could imagine the emotional stress, not to mention physical, while doing that. How could someone endure that without one's heart being crushed? But it turned out that all the hassles I caused him wasn't part of it. He's not saying anything, but I know him, and I'd say he was keeping a broken heart from me. The loss of self-confidence and sense of hope, being not anymore excited for the next days to come, not anymore looking forward to the future, not anymore appreciating life as it is, just as how he used to be. I came home, and found him there where he fell- destroyed and barely breathing. Who did this to him? How could this person hurt him this much? One of the few strong elites of our hometown, the pride of Bulacan, my living fortress of solitude, my love- torn to pieces and left alone with strength and confidence slowly fading to darkness.

Though reluctant to tell me everything that had happened in the past month, he told me that it'd be much appreciated if I'd stay in the country for a while for he needed someone to lean on to, specially during a crisis that he chooses to keep to himself, no matter how huge it is and damaging it is to his whole being. He still can see himself through the pain he was going through, apparently. I tried my best to be there where I was truly needed, beside him. The prayer became my mission... all these years, he had become my stronghold when everything else fall in defeat and failure. I'd eventually go home no matter where I was, just to watch him go on with his happy life- which never failed to inspire me to go on, as well, no matter how difficult life could be. Now, it's my turn, and it's the least I can do for him whom I've loved and longed for so much for all these years. He needs a shoulder to cry on to- someone outside of his usual daily circle, as his daily life seems to be hurting him. I know he had to return to this life eventually, as this life, too, makes him complete and happy. However, I've learned in my dealings with my own struggles that life, no matter how happy it is, could be quite self-destructive sometimes. It would greatly help if you've got a stranger to come along and rescue you. Though a friend who had almost become a stranger, I'm glad that I've returned to his side with perfect timing.

The next days were filled with honest realizations, sad tears, stolen moments, and recurring deep intimacies that came so naturally. We went to places not new to us, places where our souls can find the most calm of sanctuaries- Baywalk as the sun sets on the horizon, under the shade of an acacia tree in the UP Sunken Garden, inside the Quezon Memorial Circle monument, in the penthouse of the Citiland Pasong Tamo, in the Antipolo church, in the Malolos Basilica, in his car on the road- and just talk about what life had been for me and for him in the past years. We somehow realized that we had a lot of catching up to do, still, even if we've been seeing each other every once in a while since 2005. Somehow, it felt good having him throw a genuine smile again while listening to how I tell about how life had been for me- my adventures and misadventures in Europe, meeting friends, old and new while I travel around the world, the story of how I built Wr@pped in Singapore, how I met my ex-boyfriend/manager who dumped me recently- basically my life while I was away from home. Day by day, we got closer together than we've ever been in the past- learning the fact that it was really better that we got separated from each other years ago, as this had let us grow as better people, though apart. Sharing our stories made us miss the times when we could have been together (as it could have been perfect that way) and appreciate where we've been though a world apart. The conversations deepened from seemingly endless laughing moments to both of us crying in each other's arms.

Oh for years I've thought of this only in dreams! And it made me feel so fulfilled inside... finally, I'm with the man closest to my heart, my soulmate- and although this part of our story would not end the way I want to, I know this is still helping both of us somehow. Somehow. Even though most of my friends say it isn't right. Even though the world never meant these couple of days to be.

We're not meant for each other, though it's as if we're made for each other. Yes- my special someone, my prince, my Superman, my fortress of solitude, is already a married man.

(To be continued...)