But then there are times that it feels like they're falling apart.  Something would come up--an extension of a project at work, unforeseen expenses, sudden changes and developments that would make schedules indefinite, in a constant flux.  Suddenly, it would appear that things would overlap.  Speed bumps that had made me realize I don't have much of a plan if things fall apart.  And I'm not used to that.  I'm not used to having no plan B, no safety net that I could crash on when the best laid plans don't get laid.

And then there's this other kind of falling.  I was rushing to a coffee shop, book in hand, running a bit late.  I bumped on the glass door.  You turned around.  And smiled.

(to be continued.)

Strange, probably coincidental, that two people would ask me to watch the same movie because, they said, one of the characters reminded them of me.  Good thing I was able to download a copy of it online; it saved me from going to the cinemas.  (That meant getting myself out of the bed during the long weekend, which I had no intention of doing.) 

The story unfolded non-linearly jumping between days and events like a jumbled recollection of someone trying to make sense of what had happened.  A hazy, summery dream of some kind of love affair that was never quite defined and never went anywhere. 

After watching the movie, I went on to watch a TV series, a sitcom that required very little brain activity.  Then I read a few pages of a fantasy novel, a cosmic absurdity.  And then I slept.

The next day I went out for a walk, went to church, sat and prayed in a chapel.  I lighted a candle when I got back.  Three years and eight months.  I remember something from that time.  I was in the airport with my parents.  Just before we boarded the flight, my mom took my hand and told me to put up a brave front.  Funny how I had carried it through the years, never having learned to unlearn it.

Thinking about it, that's all it was: a front.  Some shield or armor that--while it has protected me from some things--has kept a lot of things at bay.  I've maintained distance to objectify experiences, try things out of curiosity, but never really gotten involve in anything that I couldn't let go of.  

This, I guess, was the side effect of being forcibly torn from whatever attachments I've had: I can't get myself to hold on to anything.  Not when I've seen how fast things can change; how transient things really are.  I never exerted any effort to make anyone stay.  Especially if I couldn't be certain of anything.

I lighted another candle, placed it under a molded container and put a few drops of potpourri oil.  I picked up the fantasy novel and started reading where I left off.  I wanted not to think about heavy things.  But the weekend--what it meant, what it tried to commemorate--made it hard for me not to unearth things I have never forgotten.  In the background, a song was playing.

You go to war for love like a soldier, I wanna run away.  You're never scared to walk through the fire, I wish I had your faith.  I'm so afraid to lay down my armor.  I'm not brave.  

At the back of my head, echoes from the movie I had seen the night before ran.

I just woke up one day and I knew.

Knew what?

What I was never sure of with you.

I continued reading.  I haven't reached that point yet.

Although BIG friends weren't there, having done the MASS exodus already.  It was nerdy friend who took their place.  And paid the dinner bill.  We ate some place else, not at Bellini's; but we did go to Starbucks after going for a walk along Shoe Expo.  It was four years ago, almost exactly to the night.  I was getting wasted then for the board exam.  Now, it's Tall friend's brother who's getting ready for the same board exam.  Funny how time flies.  How it hurled us to the present with different lives and different concerns; a storied past, but still connected by the same things--food, mostly, and books and alcohol.

BIG friends left March the following year, celebrating their 23rd birthday up in the air, while I was stoically trying not to breakdown.  Things have changed since then, but we managed through the changes and the dramas of our separate lives--Tall friend's never-ending pests, BIG friends' finances and the novelty that go with living with your entire family for the first time in more than two decades, and mine, drifting off to a half-life, mostly asleep.  We have lived somewhat vicariously through each other's stories.  Mine and tall friend's ordinary lives here in Manila, and BIG friends' exciting lives outside the country, where the sight of a new guy in the office can set their hearts fluttering, dreaming of riding off to the sunset on a blue, blue caravan while balancing sheets and plates on both hands.  Feeding our hopes and dreams that one day we will all wake up 40 and single and bitter and getting at each other's throats, having coffee mixed with gin for breakfast. 

By then we would, at least, be rich.  Filthy.  BIG friends would have a collection of Hermes, cats, and boys.  Tall friend, by then, would have heartlessly killed not a few pests while jetsetting all over Europe shopping for clothes, a wedding ring, and a guy who will wear that ring.  Tall friend's parents would've built so many churches in Bicol already, ceaselessly praying that Tall friend will get married in one of them.  That would be the time when I could buy a Zegna everyday, but not the love of my life.

One foot in, one foot out.  That's what the card reader told me last week.  The first of the milestones I have been waiting for months arrived in my email last Friday.  I'm still waiting for a couple of the more important things to push through and work.  Standing on a curbside, waiting for my rocket, they will come.  Meanwhile, I should get busy and I should get ready, tie up loose ends, and make peace with the past.  Another era is ending and a new one is waiting.

Hey! Long time! I smiled.

My friend sat on the chair in front of me and we started talking.

Why are you here?  I asked.  Di ba you're usually at RS?

Not today.  I'm going to work late pa naman e.  So dito na lang ako sa Fort.

So how are you?

I'm good, good.

And?  How are you and--I'm sorry--I forgot the name.

We're, he paused a bit then said, somewhere.

Exclusively dating? Or just no formal talk?

We're exclusively dating, pero we haven't really talked about us.

That's good progress na ah.  The last time I had a chance to talk to you, you weren't even exclusive.

Onga e.  Tagal na nun ah.  Seven, eight months ago?

Is there a need to rush?

Hmm. I guess wala naman.

Anyway, I'll go ahead na. Still got work.

Sige, sige.

See you around.

When I stepped out of Fort Strip, the sun was up.  Perfectly bright, not too hot after days of rain, drizzle, and cloud.  There was a feeling of lightness everywhere, as if the worst was over, the weekend's coming, and whatever storm the coming days would bring, there will always be this day--caught between rains and storms--when the parking space seemed luminous; the sky was azure, and there was a gentle, soft breeze in the air.  There were leaves falling from the trees lined along the sidewalk, scattered and windswept.  There were ladies chattering, laughing; you see a friend you haven't seen for a long time.  One fine day.  It might not be the right time, but it's a good time to fall in love.

In the last four weeks, I have managed to finish three books, including the tedious The Lost Symbol, and I'm in the middle of my fourth book.  I eschewed the life I had been living in the past months, settled for something quieter. Like the stillness of a silent water.  Storms and floods notwithstanding, it seems I have lived on a separate peace.  With its own set of skirmishes and little victories.  Still incomparable and significantly insignificant to what others had gone through the past few weeks.

I may have gone through this, initially, with mixed emotions.  On the one hand, there was a month ahead littered with leaves, of not having to wake up every morning to go to work, doing all the usual stuff.  On the other hand, I had thought how this--to borrow Vienna Teng's song--could be the last snowfall.  If I were that kind of grateful, what would I try to say?

BIG friends have wondered about this, about what next year would bring.  If this were the last slow curling of your fingers in my palm; if this were the last I felt you breathing, how would I carry on?  Then I would be reminded of what Gandalf had said, All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.

I had been given this time to make what I could out of it, to see how it would be like if nothing would change.  To achieve that work-life balance that the corporate world shouts, but rarely encourages.  I realized, looking back through all the ordinariness of the past four weeks, that I want this.  I want not just a sliver of it, but the whole damn thing.  I felt good about it, almost happy.  But if life were to throw me in another loop, which might change everything, then at least I had this moment.  That's enough to be grateful.

Natatawa ako sa binabasa ko.

Ano ba yan?

Discworld.

Sorry, late.  Hindi ako makaalis ng bahay agad.

Okay lang.  Lagi ka namang late.

Hindi no, lagi ka lang maaga.

My friend and I talked randomly while I was sipping my fourth cup of brewed coffee early Saturday evening.  When it decidedly went serious.

Alam mo, I've always wanted the corporate world.  Kahit nung college pa ako, naiimagine ko na ang sarili ko sa corporate.  Pero ngayon naisip ko na mas gusto ko na lang ng simpleng buhay.  Yung certification nga na pinapakuha sakin sa office, tinatamad na ako kunin.

Ano ba yun?

Parang certification for financial analysts.  Eh mahal yun.  50k ata yun per level tapos three levels.

O bat ayaw mo kunin?

Ewan ko.

May cash-out ka?

Wala. Company magbabayad ng lahat.

Walang bond?

Wala.

Kunin mo na.  Take it and be done with it.  Kahit yung first level lang.

Ewan ko, nawawalan ako ng gana lately.  Although alam kong bragging rights yun.  Siguro noon, pinatos ko na yan.  Mejo nag-shift ata ang perspective ko.

Nasa phase ka lang siguro na burnout ka.  Matagal ka na ring nagwowork e.  Seven or 8 years already.

Onga, matapos lang 'tong mga obligasyon ko sa bahay.

Baka sinasabi mo lang yan ngayon kasi pagod ka.  If you live the simple life everyday for the rest of your life, I'm sure you'll wish that your life would be more exciting.  It's human tendency to always see the grass is greener on the other side.  Especially kung nakikita mo yung mga batchmates mo ng college na successful na sa mga career nila.  I'm sure you'll wish you're living their kind of life.  May tendency ka pa namang ganun. 

Yung alin?

Yung kino-compare mo sarili mo sa mga batchmates mo.  Eh di ba more than a year ago nagrereklamo ka sakin na buti pa yung mga batchmates mo nakarating na sa ganito, ganyang lugar, nakabili na ng ganitong bagay.  Tapos ikaw parang walang nangyayari sa buhay mo.  Then now na ikaw naman yung okay, gusto mo naman manahimik.  You'll always be curious about what you don't have and you will always want your curiousity satiated.

Haay.  Ewan ko.  I mean, siguro ngayon alam ko na yung talagang gusto ko.  Since I know what it's like to be successful sa corporate.  Hindi na yun curiousity sakin.  Parang, tapos na ako jan.  I want a simple life.

Mangyayari din naman yun.  Pag natapos na lahat ng obligasyon mo siguro.  You can settle for a simple life.  Just make sure that you won't want to go back in the fast-paced world when everyone's running and ikaw nagsa-sashay lang at inuungusan na ng lahat.

Hahaha.  Gago.

It's just something you need to think about.  Kasi noon, when I wanted a simple life--when it felt like my world was going crazy, too loud and too noisy--ayun pumasok ako ng seminaryo.  Haha.  Nothing could be more simple than that.  Halos walang internet, cellphone.  Ginagawa ko lang aral, dasal, at mga gawaing bahay.  Then I realized na parang hindi ko ata kaya yung ganun.  There were times I felt helpless lalo na pag may mga problema sa bahay.  Wala akong magawa kasi nasa loob ako.  Ang passive ng buhay ko dun, almost muted.  I realized, I wanted to earn for myself and earn well enough to have that kind of power that money gives you.  So ayun, nagcorporate ako.  Then naisip ko na gusto ko i-try yung night shift since gising naman talaga ako pag-gabi.  So night shift yung kinuha kong work.  Then gusto ko i-try yung lahat ng shifts, so lipat naman ako ng work na merong ganun.  Ayun, may time na ang shift ko e pabago-bago. Minsan umaga, minsan hapon, minsan gabi.  Haha.  Then naisip ko na siguro ganun lang talaga ako.  I cannot want a quiet, simple life when there are times na gusto ko rin ng excitement.  In the same manner, I cannot want a constantly fast-paced life kasi there are days na gusto ko lang na tahimik, doing ordinary stuff.

So ang ibig mong sabihin, hindi mo lang talaga alam kung ano gusto mo ngayon?  Eh kahit naman noon, hindi mo naman talaga alam kung ano gusto mo.  Lahat sinusubukan mo.  For the sake na magawa mo lang o ma-try mo man lang kahit once sa buhay mo.

Haha. Hindi naman.  I have a vague idea of what I want.

And ano naman yun, aber?

I want an extraordinary life.  With someone.

Ayan o.

Tawag jan caffeine overload.

Hahaha.

Tara, takbo tayo.

Saan?

Sa buong mundo.

Sira.

Suntukan na lang.

Gago.  Uminom ka nga ng tubig.

Wrapped up, packed up, ribbon with a bow on it.

Of what had happened.  Like creating a linear thread of disjointed events.  A melody hummed from the beginning to the fade out.

Of what had gone wrong.  Time.  There was never enough of it and it seems there was never a right one.  Effort.  The meeting point, the halfway place that was never defined.  Priorities.  Everything seems to have come first and this was merely an option.

Of what had gone right.

Of what could have been.  It'd have been good, probably great.

It was strange to have thought of you last Sunday night.  Strange, because it's been quite a long time already.  There are hardly any traces of you in my life.  You were a once upon a time without the fairy tale ending.  An open-ended question that seemed rhetorical.  A story that ended without a resolution.  An ellipsis rather than a period.

You were the thought that strayed in my mind when I'm not supposed to be looking elsewhere.  The sliding door from something that feels old to a new adventure.  From a dead-end to a dirt road barely seen.

What would it be like to be on that dirt road with you?

My cellphone rang, I looked at the time before picking it up: 2:46AM.  I heard my Mom's voice on the other end.  Don't shave your head from now on, she said. 

Okay, I'm going to sleep now, I said.  I got back to counting sheeps.  And my thoughts, for days, have strayed ever since.

I've always tried to caution myself from being too happy because I know, based from past experiences, that there has always been a corresponding pain or sadness that comes after being too happy.  Looking around, scanning the area from where I stand, seeing and hearing about lives lost and the damages done, this has been no exception.

I went with some friends to the wake earlier tonight, offered a prayer then sat silently in the pew.  I left after a few minutes, leaving the ones I came with behind.  I passed by familiar streets and avenues, where once I had a dead one to grieve on my own.  Death has always been on my mind, having seen it and come close to it a few years back.  It can happen fast and swift: everything alright then suddenly being rushed in the ICU, slipping into a coma, then dead.  I thought about life, about people struggling to survive, to live.  Fighting heavy rains and rushing waters.  I thought about a relative, fighting cancer in its last stages, diagnosed too late.  Of how it's being kept from his children who are thousands of miles away.  Of my friend who had seemed so healthy.  Of people in nearby villages and towns looking lost for the loved ones they've lost.  Death is on a harvest this season.

Maybe, too many good people deserve to be in a better place than this one.  As a character from a graphic novel I had read recently said: Why would we want to drag [them] back into this world of woes and heartbreak?  One thing I've learned recently is that there are, in fact, other lives possible after this one.  Places of reward and rest.  Don't you think [they've] earned a better life somewhere?

Amen.

I stepped out of the comedy bar after the last set was done.  It was 2am and it had been raining the whole night already.  There were several cabs lined up outside so I took one and headed home.  Another week was ending.  It was a week different from the ones I've had in months.  For one, there was no work to contend with.  I ditched the Internet for a few days, mildly surprised that I can live without it.  I hardly had my cellphone with me; I wasn't expecting any urgent call or text from anyone.  If I were in school, it'd have been like a sembreak.  A relatively short one.  I didn't have to go anywhere.  I just have to be here.

As the cab cautiously made its way to my place, I thought about how too swiftly the week has come to a close.  That's the great insight from Einstein's relativity.  How time moves differently for all of us.  How an hour to someone stuck in traffic can feel like an eternity; while a day to someone having a good time can feel like a blink-of-an-eye moment.  All too soon and it's gone.  There was hardly anything tangible to hold on to this.

Looking back, it seemed all too fluid.  Days going by smoothly, flowing from one moment to another.  There was nothing spectacular or exciting.  Just the motions of everyday.  Waking up early, making breakfast, lunch, dinner.  Going around the city, trying out new things as if for the first time, rediscovering Manila.  All boring stuff.  But to borrow a line from the movie Up: the boring stuff is the stuff I remember the most.

This was a glimpse through the looking glass.  What it'd be like when things have settled down.  When the noise, the jungle, and the wilderness are all behind and there's just the plain landscape ahead.  Excitement and surprises are muted.  And there's just stability. 

Last Thursday night, over dinner, I laid out my options.  Immediate plans and diverging roads.  This is why this will standout.  Because this too shall pass.  Like all things fluid, it will go and flow.  The stream forking into rivers and oceans.  It was poignant to think about last Thursday.  These are my options, I said, like a house of cards flat on the table.  Plans with friends and my parents' plans for me. 

So I have to take a leave on June.

You don't have to, I said.

Of course I would want to join you and your friends.

That's nice.

How about this?  What's the timeframe?

Probably next year, I replied.

I can get myself assigned there in two years.  I'll get there.  Anyway, it's always been my dream to be there.

Plans, all plans.  It will change and it will accomodate change.  I wonder just how much change I can accomodate and for how long before things break apart and move in different directions.  From the very beginning, this has always been a fragile link.  How much more stress can it take before it fizzles out, I don't know.  It's easier to just keep on moving forward, dealing with the challenges of the present and holding on to whatever memory that can strengthen the ties.  Like a survivor on the aftermath of a deluge, surveying the landscape of all that's ruined and left, picking out what can still be used and taking stock of what has been lost, I need to cherish whatever memory I can make today before the good is gone.