In late 2017, before the start of my favorite season, he found me. Again.
After 21 questions, you made your third attempt to ask me out. Fueled with doubts and excitement, I finally agreed to see you.
You arrived just in time. I had a few drinks with friends which I told you about. I was feeling sleepy and nervous—that you did not need to know. You called me to check if you were in the right area. I was already outside the bar, my phone in hand, looking for you. Under the street lamp post, there you were. A silhouette of you, smiling at me. You wore a shirt without sleeves. A bold choice, I thought. Still holding the phone, you walked towards me. I could still not get a good view of your face, but I could feel you've changed. You leaned in to my cheek, but I was quick to dodge for a tap on a back. You got taller, and you smelled like a fresh shower.
We walked to your car. I pulled you from your wrist to lead the way and not pass by the bar my friends were still at. I could feel the two glasses of rhum Coke—fine, and a shot of tequila—I had was starting to kick in. You opened the car door for me. 'What a gentleman,' I uttered in my head while I tried to hide a smile. I was pleading to my brain not to send signals and turn my face red. Realized it was too late for that after the drinking. My workmates and I had an unspoken rule of drinking every Friday night. Everyone probably did. Some adults preferred alcohol to wash down the stress of the week that had passed—and the pain, the sorrow, the tears, and everything in between—that was still there. Basically, all of life's buffoonery. I wasn't sure if the drinking helped or not.
I sat on the passenger seat like it was not the first time. Even I shocked myself. It's the alcohol again. Weirdly enough, it was keeping me calm. Suspiciously too calm. On our way, I was browsing through Instagram while trying to make excuses in my head as to why I had to leave early. A bit tipsy, I felt good. It felt right, despite the alcohol. Messages sent.
I was starting to slouch. In your car. Which I rode for the first time. On the first night we officially met in person. Unbelievable. Of course, my anxieties were invited in this very important car ride. I made up scenarios in my head like any other human person, always going too far. Getting ahead of myself again. I shook my head, I was probably zoning out. Sit like a lady. Fix your hair. Stop using your goddamn phone, for crying out loud. The thoughts in my head. I did not think I have spoken a word for over ten minutes.
In between traffic light stops, you tried to get a glimpse of me. It's been six long years after all. Back in college, after that class one summer, we never saw each other again in campus. I graduated, and I did not know what happened to you. You asked for my number, but I lost my phone. I guess, I thought about you once or twice. But you never again crossed my mind. In times I tried to replay in my head the almost lovers I had, you never came up.
I subtly covered my face with my long hair. I had a tendency to do that. I hoped I was not being too obvious. I looked at you when I responded to your questions. God, now, why were I suddenly talking too much and too loud. Yet, you were smiling, and even laughing at my jokes. I knew I was funny. My confidence was surpassing the highest building in Makati. You must have really liked me, I almost said aloud.
My gaze was focused outside. Bright lights. Busy streets. Some on their way home. Some, hopeful, on their way to a night-out. "The city's pretty at night," I said as I looked at you. You did not take the usual route. You said it was not a short cut, but with a little less traffic. I'd take that little less traffic. It was still a long drive, but I did not mind.
My gaze was focused outside. Bright lights. Busy streets. Some on their way home. Some, hopeful, on their way to a night-out. "The city's pretty at night," I said as I looked at you. You did not take the usual route. You said it was not a short cut, but with a little less traffic. I'd take that little less traffic. It was still a long drive, but I did not mind.
(c)
