The Twelve Seasons of Summer

Someone once told me that for most of us, the first heart beat happens around the thirty-fifth day after we were conceived. Some would say it happens on the fortieth. Some would tell it beats as early as the twentyeighth. I wonder how they ever knew. I wonder how they ever felt. Mine? It happened the first time I saw you.

I tried to decide whether to stay or just leave the class and enroll in it the following term. But by some twist of fate, he called someone to stand up and give the physical definition of the Law of Gravity. And that someone happened to be you. You gave an ordinary answer. But you were extraordinarily beautiful. For some, you might not be the typical girl-of-their-dreams. Perhaps by standard definition, youre just an average girl in class. But beyond that, I sense some aura of weakness in you. Of past hurts. Of someone trying to hide inside a shell. And being the I-can-save-the-world and knight-inshining-armor type of guy that I have always been, I found you exceptionally wonderful. And the decision whether or not to take Physics that semester was immediately over. Now who ever said about the laws of gravity not being responsible for people falling in love? The afternoon that ensued saw me digging in the library trying to find some Philosophy books. I was actually looking for some quotes or at least a quote that I would tell you the following morning. Of course I plan to seat next to you after seeing you earlier. And I wanted to make a first impression of being an intelligent, wisdom-filled (minus the gray hairs), approachable guy. Maybe its your look of being wounded, or perhaps my sheer stupidity that I settled for the clichd quote that time heals all wounds. Time heals all wounds I said seconds after I sat beside you. You looked at me. Smiled. Told me your name and everything turned pink and there were rainbows and butterflies. Of course that was silly. And of course that didnt happen. Well in my original script, I should have added some clever remarks about the quote being said by a psychologist, and the story behind it and perhaps formally introduce myself as one of your classmates. But maybe the whole weight of that precious moment came down raging at me and struck me frozen cold that I lost for words.

From a distance and for countless days, I stared at you holding a bottle, your skin partially bathed by the late afternoon sun. Theres something about your free flowing hair that captivates me. It must be part of the same invisible force that drew me enchanted to you all these years; the same magic that had my heart beating for the first time. You were under the tree atop a small hill that overlooked our campus. You were crying. And whispering words I could not hear. As I wonder why, the yellow leaves fell gently as the colors of the late afternoon sky spilled over the distant horizon. And for one fleeting moment, I remembered that day I first saw you. The moment you look me in the eyes that day must have been the definition of the word beautiful. And it was indeed beautiful. ------------------------------------------------------------The day I first saw you was also the day I proved Albert Einstein wrong. That mad genius once remarked that the laws of gravity cannot be held responsible for people falling in love. That was really cute coming from Einstein. But Ill be darned. You see, it was a rainy Monday morning when I first saw you in our Physics class. I heard rumors that the professor for that subject was some sort of a terror and I have no intentions of flunking a subject on my first year in college. Well, the moment the professor came in and thus confirmed the rumors that it was really he who will teach Physics for the whole semester,

For five agonizing minutes I swore I could hear the crickets chirped. You said nothing, never looked in my direction and I felt the blood down from my feet dam towards my face painting it bloody red in embarrassment. But like a moment of salvation, you turned your face towards mine, gave me a broken smile and said It doesnt. It just makes you dont give a crap. I forced a smile and that same moment, I saw the scar on your wrist. And just as you turn your gaze away from my direction I saw the hundred colors of sadness in your eyes and it could not have been more vivid. Maybe it cannot heal the wounds. But at least it heals what reason cannot. This time, you smiled. A genuine smile. After my failed attempt yesterday, I found redemption in a quote by a Roman philosopher which I found after two hours of time spent in the library. I figured that maybe after years of trying to rationalize your fears and hurts and frustrations you finally realize that time had been passing by. And maybe it had passed by long enough. That same moment you smiled was the same moment in time when all the universe and its full glory stopped and was captured in a frame. It was beautiful. The days and months that followed saw me magnificently drawn to you. You love to hear stories about the stars and the rain and the moon. So I spent sleepless nights trying to make stories out of those. Id tell you how the moon chased the sun for eight hundred years only to find the sun not loving her back. Id make stories why the rain has to fall in order for the earth and the sky to be together. You loved the story of us being the wind for seven days to bid farewell to the ones we loved before crossing the afterlife. Four hundred eighty two days after we first met, you told me about your scar. It was a tragic story of your parents meeting a car accident one night that sent your whole life tumbling down. Months after that incident, you tried to take away your life, alone in your room, not wanting the pressure

anymore. But the One that holds the heavens in place wouldnt let it happen and you were found and were saved on time. The night of the same day, we were under the tree atop the hill that overlooked the campus. The sky was filled with stars and that was when you told me about the story of the secret strings. See the stars up there? Each one has a string attached to our hearts down here. When you see a star falls, it means a heart has been broken. The star becomes dusts and gets scattered in the wind. Magical, I thought. So how do you get the star to shine again? I asked. You collect the dusts and tie the string again. Most people spend their lifetime searching but never finding a purpose for their very existence. Mine was found in collecting stardusts and tying a broken string. ---------------------------------------------------------------------From a distance and for the seventh day, I stared at you holding a bottle, your skin partially bathed by the late afternoon sun. You were under the tree atop a small hill that overlooked our campus. You were crying. And whispering words I could not hear. As I wonder why, the yellow leaves fell gently as the colors of the late afternoon sky spilled over the distant horizon. And for another fleeting moment, I remembered the bottle you were holding was the same bottle I used to collect the raindrops that fell that day we first met. I was supposed to finally give it to you exactly two years after that night you told me the story of the stars and the strings. And I remember driving my way here. And there were flashes of light after that.

It was the seventh day. And as I find my way closer to you, tears flowed like rivers from your eyes. And where they fell, they soaked the mound of earth where a wooden cross stood. Written on it was my name.

And as the day gave way to the night, a star falls from the distance and the wind asked the Keeper of star to send someone to gather the stardust. This time, shell be stronger, the wind said.