Monday, December 6, 2010

Eight Hundred Fifty and Nine (part 1)

As I sit here on my bedside, I encapsulate myself in my own little bubble and turn back the hands of time as I close my eyes. Well, I did want to close my eyes but I won't be able to type these things down. LOL.

So here is where we are going to travel.

A sunny Friday noon of April 2008. BSCS Night.

Earl and I borrowed John Paul's motorbike to get the electric guitars (which I all brought home) and rent the drum set from that music store for the our department's program that night. We left at around 11am and we were welcomed with the busy streets of the city and we got no choice but to take alternative routes in order to get home fast. At first I was complaining why he kept on going through the small alleyways and bumpy roads instead of just going with the traffic. I cannot believe that he was able to convince me with the reason that he does not want me to get burned by the scorching sun (imagine 36C) and that he wants to spend more time with me because in two months, I will be miles away from him and that I will be enjoying the white sand beaches of paradise (he is a beach bum and he is jealous. hahaha). That was one of the most memorable bike rides that I had with my best friend (aside that I almost felt that I am going to die when he full throttled at 110kph at the highway with 3 guitars on my back and overtaking 2 cargo trucks! I never imagined that I will get home alive or ever get to go to Hawaii. I almost got a heart attack seriously! ). I am thankful that I had known such a great buddy like him and I am thankful that no matter how many oceans we are apart (well there is only one--the Pacific. :P), he is still there and had always been there to paint smiles and erase silence in my life. I owe a lot to reggae music (especially Bob Marley's Baby, I Love Your Way) because I know that as long as the rasta music is filling the island air, my best friend Earl is watching over me (or maybe singing and playing one too!). (^^.)~

A bright April Monday morning of 2008. Last week of school.

I am sitting by the computer table with my BSCS classmates in FLVC and trying my best to answer all of their questions about my transfer to BYU-Hawaii. They ask questions like when I am going to leave, when I am going to come back, and some requests like bringing home chocolates or much better, Hawaiian dudes for Winnie Clair and the girls. LOL. They even ask me if they should speak to me in English when I get back home because I might forget my Tagalog (daw). hahaha. Aside from all the requests and the little notes of "Good Luck!" and "Happy Trip" and "We are going to miss you!", this day was worth returning to because there was a certain boy who made me make a promise to myself that I will definitely come back home--for him? Well, I got my fairytale come true already but the battle for the PSP is not yet over Dave. hahaha. :P

A drizzly Friday July afternoon of 2008. Last day of work for me (I substituted my mom for a month) as a Records Clerk in Holy Infant Clinic).

Frederick stood there right in front of the glass door as he waited for me to walk out of the office. He asked me what my favorite number was and which color do I like to match with red. I smiled because I thought it was a silly question but I still gave him an answer: 13 is the number and green is the color. He told me to wait for 15 minutes and that he will shortly be back. He made me wonder what he was up to and I did not find out until he came back (and yes it was exactly 15 minutes!) almost stumbling his way to the glass door of the office. I told him to catch his breath (I cannot help but laugh at him when he came in panting) and tell me what he is up to. He asked me to close my eyes and open it when he tells me to do so. And so I did. And when I opened them, he was not in sight (for he was kneeling on the ground on one knee) and all I see are 13 red roses (I counted them), in a lovely green abaca wrap. I was speechless because it was my first time to receive such a gift (and at the same time speechless because I was thinking of an explanation that I am going to present to my mom, dad, and sister about how the roses came into my possession. hahaha). I almost forgot how long he was kneeling there so I came down to my knees with a smile on my face and gave him a hug of thanks. He whispered that there is one more thing and as I fixed the bundle of roses in my hand, there it was--a silver ring hidden in between the velveteen petals. He then offered me a ride home (he got a motorbike :p) and even before I was about to thank him, the clouds finally gave up and poured down heavily on us. Everything slowed down. Everything calmed down. It was a quiet Friday afternoon with only the two of us standing by the rusty gate of our apartment. I know that I needed to say what I feel for him and if I won't, there would not be another day to say so. I asked him to come closer to hear what I was about to say, for the rain was drumming on the rooftops now. His eyes locked into mine and when he was inches away from me, I decided to do what I wanted to say instead-- a kiss in the rain.

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