An Other Self (Nothing Further)
It's one of those moments when you thought, "Why have I gone this way?"
I was supposed to ride a bus from EDSA after watching "Prime" (a movie which ending I truly appreciated) in Rockwell. Instead I rode a bus to Ayala and decided to take the shuttle from Landmark to Sucat. But that was not yet the deadly instead. Instead, I went to Greenbelt, despite my distaste for its crowd--both size and--
And there they were. At Starbucks, where else? Three of my former high schoolmates. They shouted my name. I heard the excitement in their voices.
What was I worried about? I was even frustrated. Why?
Because I didn't want to chat with them. Fake enthusiasm. You all know how a hoax smile hurt the jaw. Imagine the horror when it was a Saturday and you were expected to hang out till the early morn.
Why don't I want to chat with them? Because I don't like them. I don't hate them, I just don't like them.
We were not close buddies in high school and so what was there for us to talk about? That was exactly the anti-thesis they had in mind: we were not close buddies in high school, and so there was so much to talk about, know about.
What the--
"So sino ba yung mga naging cruch mo nung high school?" S. asked me with a straight face. Asked me like a grown up. The question with a tone no different with a question that goes like "May yosi ka ba diyan?" It was all casual. It was all in the distant past. Crushes were treated just as that: a crush.
Why was I hesitant to answer? In my mind, I was remembering my high school self, both in act and speech. Not in thought--I think I've always thought the same. Then I remember I was the quiet one whom everybody know has something spectacular about her. No kidding. (Sometimes, there would be a friend, or an acquaintance or two who'd say, I'd like to demystify you. As if! I always explain: you'll be disappointed, you'll find nothing further. What mystifies you is just that--the mystery.)
And so I took the easy way out, I lied. "Wala." (It's not right and wrong that are opposites, right? It's right and easy.)
As I eased myself into the site, I started to enjoy a bit. Names were digged out of oblivion, recolored. How could I have forgotten I had a friend called Hinkeyloo?
There is a number of people whom I truly love from my high school. Some of them I've envied, misesteemed, but later on I look at them with wonder and admiration. I am not yet ready for them to look at me. I would really rather do the seeing.
I was supposed to ride a bus from EDSA after watching "Prime" (a movie which ending I truly appreciated) in Rockwell. Instead I rode a bus to Ayala and decided to take the shuttle from Landmark to Sucat. But that was not yet the deadly instead. Instead, I went to Greenbelt, despite my distaste for its crowd--both size and--
And there they were. At Starbucks, where else? Three of my former high schoolmates. They shouted my name. I heard the excitement in their voices.
What was I worried about? I was even frustrated. Why?
Because I didn't want to chat with them. Fake enthusiasm. You all know how a hoax smile hurt the jaw. Imagine the horror when it was a Saturday and you were expected to hang out till the early morn.
Why don't I want to chat with them? Because I don't like them. I don't hate them, I just don't like them.
We were not close buddies in high school and so what was there for us to talk about? That was exactly the anti-thesis they had in mind: we were not close buddies in high school, and so there was so much to talk about, know about.
What the--
"So sino ba yung mga naging cruch mo nung high school?" S. asked me with a straight face. Asked me like a grown up. The question with a tone no different with a question that goes like "May yosi ka ba diyan?" It was all casual. It was all in the distant past. Crushes were treated just as that: a crush.
Why was I hesitant to answer? In my mind, I was remembering my high school self, both in act and speech. Not in thought--I think I've always thought the same. Then I remember I was the quiet one whom everybody know has something spectacular about her. No kidding. (Sometimes, there would be a friend, or an acquaintance or two who'd say, I'd like to demystify you. As if! I always explain: you'll be disappointed, you'll find nothing further. What mystifies you is just that--the mystery.)
And so I took the easy way out, I lied. "Wala." (It's not right and wrong that are opposites, right? It's right and easy.)
As I eased myself into the site, I started to enjoy a bit. Names were digged out of oblivion, recolored. How could I have forgotten I had a friend called Hinkeyloo?
There is a number of people whom I truly love from my high school. Some of them I've envied, misesteemed, but later on I look at them with wonder and admiration. I am not yet ready for them to look at me. I would really rather do the seeing.