Saturday, February 14, 2015

Untitled

I shivered a little.

The edge of this eastern sea was kissing my toes, its waves gently making love to the sprawling ivory sand. Birds have started singing their greetings to the wind, as the sun is just about to bring life to the silver-gray sky.

The seawater on the beach. Its allegory. I never wanted to forget. Not because I enjoy the pain, but that's how I am. Life was asking more than what our years could handle. He broke down. I couldn't handle it. And on that faithful Saturday afternoon, in the veranda of that city high rise, we parted ways. I was clutching the banisters as if I would fall. He came to me and put his hand over mine. "I'm leaving." My glance never met his, and I'll never know how long he lingered after, for he left in silence. The setting sun was witness. The anger, the sadness, the desperation. The anguish of not knowing what to do. The tears stopped when it seemed like there's nothing left in me. Of all the memories, this one is the most vivid.

"Hey," he greeted as he sat beside me. I wasn't warned of his approach. "Have you figured the secrets of the universe yet?" he chuckled. "Yes. It doesn't exist. Neither do we," I didn't shy away from the banter. "Ha! You and your musings. Well, there's one thing I'm sure does exist. Breakfast! Come on, before it gets cold." He winked. A habit he got from me. I winked back. We got upright, and dusted the sand off. At my first stride he held my hand, smiled, and led me to the small cottage. With his vision up front, I glanced at my hand in his, and smiled. Because unlike that afternoon when he held it to let me go, he is now leading me home.

Our gray silhouettes suddenly raced before us. The sun has finally risen.

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