Walked this part of Makati where I used to frequent about two years ago. I miss this place. Sitting here in one of the classy chairs in this new coffee house in the corner across the street of my destination, my French school. Sipping my 155-peso cup of cold creamed coffee I drink few and far between. Sweldo naman. Holding Chuck Palahniuk's novel about some tortured promising artist in one hand. A fitting choice to start my book list for the year. The bitter taste of coffee. The cooling effect of black menthol cigarettes. I was the first customer in this place, and it felt like I own this corner. Watching people hurry to get to the other side of the street, going about their daily routine. Hearing cars honking. Some bossa music playing in the background. Then I looked up. Gloomy skies. The chilling wind. The jacket that covers my skin. And, for the longest time, I feel normal. Missing this part of me that's like this morning's weather. Finding elation in my own strangeness, depth, and solitude. This darkness is where my soul feels home. And for months, I turned my head away from that person, so I could make the most of what I thought would be a slimming time with my "coral", my "master". I never imagined that we would end up together, more so, that he would stay longer so he could be with me. But I could only turn my head from myself for so long, and I can't seem to fit him into my own private world. More than missing him, is missing myself. And no matter how it becomes more and more apparent how completely opposite we are with each other, still, I put a value in him and in our relationship. More than the comparison, seeing the biting reality in your face, is believing that we could bring out the better, if not the best, in each other.
...:::j u l i e:::...
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