Saturday, November 21, 2009

i spent too much time raiding windmills.

As the skies weep quiet tears this early noon, a treasure trove of memories fill my head; images that only I recall.

I distinctly remember that random phone call, when my dad was shutting the front door and double-checking if the house lights were on and off in the right places. It was November, 1998. For some reason, I knew your phone number. I dialled it, you answered, and I told you, out of the blue, that I was depressed.

Then you made me laugh. And that was how it started.

You were my summer vacations, my semestral breaks, my Christmas masses and my Easter Sundays. We defied all logic when we brought out the best in each other. I was at my happiest, at my prettiest, in my most carpe diem moments when I was with you. And I think that's how you felt, too. We shone brightest like supernovas with every magical triumph. And the euphoria stayed so long it seemed we could fly for all eternity.

But vacations end. The pixie dust settles to the ground. And the flight touches down after soaring so high. We are left with our normal selves to face the bitterness of life, and the world does not stop too long for us. What happens when the silver lining is covered in dark clouds, words of hope echo in despair, and the one person you turn to for inspiration becomes the one who reminds you of your brokenness?

We are forced to wake up, and grow up. And the heroes that we have been to each other are reduced to mere mortals who live troubled lives.

A part of me died today. It was the child in me that stared wide-eyed with idealism that maybe if I wished hard enough, I didn't have to grow up. It was also the part of me that kept an image of you that was no longer there.

I still believe in your greatness. You have taught me to go beyond myself, and I hope I will still do the same for you. Live on, and cherish what we have shared. Your love is the closest I have ever been to a miracle. For now, I will keep the memory of it as the last footnote of the book of my youth.

But I hope that someday soon, I will see you again as I did many times over, smiling, gleaming, as the sun on the first morning of my summer vacation.

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