Chapter 11

195 13 15
                                    


Rinig ko ang bawat tambol ng puso.

I was lying on my back and staring blankly at our stale ceiling. The cricket noises reigned around.

His innocent, smiling face flashed in my mind. Those deep chuckles he made, the frown in his face, the blush in his ears, those calm and unbothered expression, those little gestures he's enacting. The way he spats something I can't comprehend that quick. And the way he laughs and how he stops himself from bursting more.

Noong una ko siyang nakita ay parang wala lang sa kanya na tinulugan ko siya. Nahuli ko itong nakangiti nang matanaw ang rearview mirror ng jeep. A curve was also visible on his lips when we met again at that night.

I'm not his long-lost friend nor a just-now clown. Yet he seems happy . . . to see me again.

Kinuha ko sa bag ang note na binigay niya noon at binasa iyon ulit.

Hope that was a good rest :)

"Ang weird mo. Pero sweet ka pa rin." My heart nestled on warm emotions. I traced his calligraphy. Ito 'yong gabing kahit puyat at pagod na pagod na ako sa trabaho, sa bahay, at sa sarili ay nakuha ko pa ring ngumiti.

This would never sound ridiculous to me. Kahit kailan hindi mababago ang halaga nito. Because ever since, I've never had someone did this to me.

Never have I ever received or even heard reassurance from someone; I've never been recognized nor even have called by my first name; I've never ever went with someone who's passionate giving acts of concern; and I've never had someone tending to me before, of course, all of that until him.

Tanda ko pa noong elementary, umabot ako ng national level sa MTAP. And I won it. Thankfully. Masayang-masaya ako nang makita ang trophy na binigay sa akin ng isang math professor at sabi, napakahusay ko raw. Masayang-masaya ako nang makita ang ngiti ng coach ko. Masayang-masaya ako nang mapanalunan 'yon.

Pero nang makauwi ako, wala man lang ni isang pagbati sa akin. Mula sa magulang ko.

Tanda ko rin noong senior highschool ako, pagkatapos kong mapanalo ang isang impromptu speech contest ay walang sumalubong sa akin sa bahay. That was my first time joining and when I successfully grabbed my prize, I thought someone would congratulate me the time I'll go home.

But none. Naibsan man ang lungkot ko sa ngiti nila Jed at Esma ay hindi pa rin nawala ang bigat sa loob ko.

Tanda ko noong nasa first year pa ako, nasa isang field trip kami tapos ginawa pa akong spokesperson ng aming squad ay nasabihan akong ang husay ko raw sa team management. Magaling daw ako sa Field Actions & Reports. Partida pa na galing sa isang professional environmentalist and forest manager iyon. I was rewarded a special certificate and a cash prize. Contest daw pala 'yon.

At pagkauwi ko, hindi na ako nagtaka nang bumalik na naman sa akin ang pakiramdam na walang nakakakita sa nagawa ko, sa nakamit ko. Parang walang nangyari.

I've grown up carrying myself. Validating and giving acknowledgement to myself, so receiving it from other people feels overwhelming and surreal at the same time.

That he didn't just have seen me, but he'd also recognized me.

Nakikita ko ang bawat ngiti niya tuwing nagpupunta ako sa shed kung saan siya naghihintay. 'Yong pagbagsak ng balikat tuwing aalis ako. Ang pagkamahiyain niya at walang malay.

Are you mad? Ano bang dapat kong ikagalit sa kanya? He's the one who should be mad at me!

I'm sorry. Para saan? Anong ibig niyang hingiin ng tawad? Hindi siya ang may kasalanan.

Drives Under NightlightsWhere stories live. Discover now