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I do not look forward to the day when all I have are those memories of us walking around the campus, talking about everything under the sun. Like for example, places we’ve always wanted to go to. You told me you want to go backpacking throughout Europe and see all those historic places. I told you that I’ve always wanted to go to Tibet and be a monk there, meditating and chanting all those ancient sutras and conversing with other monks regarding the status of Tibet under China. And you smiled when I told you this because you said it’s weird and I said I am serious and you laughed a little. I wanted to make you laugh and smile because I needed solid proof that life was worth living. I don’t know what it is that I feel about you, but I sometimes have dreams with you in them. I know it sounds pathetic and maybe it is, but I think I may be in love with you. Writing these words I feel like a total fool, and maybe I really am. I have always questioned my sanity, but this craziness that I feel regarding you is of a totally different dimension. I have always imagined myself as a statue, a being made of cement, something that is incapable of emotions beyond apathy. But as that Siakol song goes, ‘mukhang pinasukan ng daga ang puso kong bato.’ And all that I can say is, ‘hardcore.’ But let us be realistic. For this world, I concede, is actually real and not some hallucination by some primeval Hindu god. The socioeconomic distance between us is farther than the distance separating our sun from its nearest neighbouring star. But more than that is the fact that I can never seem to summon the courage to tell you these things. I had this plan where I would pretend to be drunk and then would send you a message about my true and pure feelings. I later abandoned the idea, realizing that it’s just juvenile and that maybe you would think me weirder than you thought I am and would never want to see me again. And so I prepare myself for the inevitable. I remember the most unforgettable moments I had with you, and tell myself to be content with them and be thankful for the privilege of being near your shadow. I remember that perfect afternoon when the sun was so bright and millions of tiny dried up leaves were falling and being carried by the wind. I remember that time I walked with you towards that spot beneath the overpass where you say you always wait for the bus. I remember that moment before you bounded up the steps of the bus, looked at me, and waved goodbye. Feb27,2009,3:48am