He and She

This time I’ll be cheesy. I’ll be eewwy. I’ll be mushy. I’ll be the not-so-me. This time I’ll be blogging about life.

Just last night, she messaged me that she is going to McDonald’s. I just came from a cheer dance practice. I was tired. I was a bit wet of the rain. I was hungry. Enough of my little misery, she asked me whether I have eaten already, asked me what I was doing. Not thinking twice, I packed myself up and went to McDo, where her sister treated her to a coke float and some burger and fries, where I supposedly and intently went to just to save her from boredom. And, oh, well, she is my LIKE-life.

So I arrived at McDo, thinking of burger Mac and apple pie as the answer to my grumbling and crumbling and not-so-patient stomach. Surprisingly and unfortunately and sadly, I met her as I went inside. I met her as she and her not-so-look-alike sister as they went out and go home. We even barely said “hi” or at least a word. I sensed that she was tired, and I sensed her not-in-the-mood-to-talk aura. I said goodbye, smiled a little, never expected a smile back, went inside and ordered the meal that I was thinking since I was in the jeepney. I looked back, and she was no longer there, I mean, they were no longer there. What my thoughts were during that time, I cannot really tell. This blog won’t suffice for it.

I sent him a text message. I told him that I was in McDo, eating alone. I asked him to treat me to a meal, yet he said that he cannot come because he went home. I told him that he still owes me a “libre” for his birthday. He told me that he did not celebrate his date of birth because he was busy for an exam. I felt sad for him, knowing that he is supposed to celebrate his birthday on the 18^th of August yet no one bothered to celebrate it because of a busy schedule. I was supposed to suggest that I and his girlfriend come over to his house and cook for him and, at least, although late, celebrate his birthday, yet I mentioned not any of these because I feared he would take this as an intervention of his private life. And oh, he is my then best friend, my friend whom I miss talking to and I miss playing DotA with.

I asked him on the number of his customers every day. He said that it is just enough to cover the daily needs of his family. I asked for more. He is the balut vendor. Rarely do I like the vinegar for balut here in the city and for me his vinegar for balut is the best so far in Cebu City.

I called him. I have arrived at the dormitory around 1am. I was supposed to meet him today and then we play DotA and Counter Strike, but I was not able to see him for the day because of his engagement with his organization, and because I have been busy not only for today but for the past days as well. I gave him a call, talked to him for quite a long time. I message him of my whereabouts, and he gives me a signal to call him whenever he needs help. He is my closest friend. I do not know where he actually is right now. LOL

He stared at me, as if I was a snatcher or a kidnapper or something of that sort. He dressed good; he dressed like a call center agent. There were only the two of us. He kept his bag closer to him as soon as I get to the jeepney we shared. He was my gay co-passenger. It made me wonder whether I really looked badly, or the other way around, because I really was not able to determine what his stares meant.

He recalled his acquaintances and his contacts for the day. He recalled of his like-life, of his then best friend, the balut vendor, of his closest friend, of his co-passenger. He realized a slight fraction of a second lost is a memory lost. He recalled all the times that he should have spent with the necessary things, aside from ranting on a tiny thing such as being tired or being wet of the rain or being hungry. Most of these things can be easily addressed. Make things simple. He always believed on not complicating things, that things will always have its common denominator. And yes, he is me.

-Cris Virgil Pescadero-