Friday, December 02, 2005
11:23 AM |
was just here, to spend his two-day leave from the sleep-deprivation experiment he calls his job. It used to be a weekend leave, but contact centers have a universe of their own, with constantly changing schedules and shifts. Naturally, I was glad there were no classes this week in Silliman -- the campus is busy flexing its muscles for the annual intramurals -- and so there was ample time to do nothing else but just reacquianting our senses with each other's presence. Like all long-time romances, it didn't take more than a second: it's just a wonder how one falls into the remembered rhythms, and the nuances of each other's ticks. The one thing that is our saving grace, given the fact that we are perfect opposites of each other, is the fact that we have never misstepped with regards reading the other perfectly; when we are together, we also take care of each other well. We've traveled a lot. Remember the maxim that one can measure one's bonds with others with a three-day bus trip? We've done more than that, and we always come out having so much fun. Which is to say that the past three days with Mark have been wonderful. We watched Brillante Mendoza's Masahista
and Hayao Miyazaki's Howl's Moving Castle
-- two odd films to watch together back-to-back. We ate ice cream. We shopped for shirts and jeans. We ate burgers. He cleaned his dog's pen while I went off to get cold water for the dog. (Yes.)
We raided the temporary trade fair in front of City Hall, and we brisked-walked through the city. We wanted to see the fake mermaid at the perya
, but got there too late. Yesterday, when he boarded the outrigger boat for the short ride back to Cebu, I swore there was no getting used to the goodbyes. On the ride home from Sibulan town to Dumaguete, I told myself that this was how I'm going to remember many of my days to come. I find it immensely amusing and strange how devotion can claim us to doing things, like send-offs and the longing for next week's leave. Sometimes I cannot believe it's been more than two years since I've met Mark. Two years, and counting.
That has got to say for something.
I miss you, bubu.
[On that note, give Dean
your congratulations. Ten years!
Labels: life, love
 This is Where You Bite the Sandwich
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