My Symphony: State of Our Affairs by Mt. Desolation
The morning wears a veil of rain in the city I live in. The traffic’s edging forward again, but no one knows where they’re going…
Upon looking at the collage of pictures at the very beginning of this post, you must know up front that this write-up is about me and another human being. However, this won’t be just about us. I decided to write this one because of two reasons. One, I have been missing high school since graduation day last March 24, 2010 (I just don’t admit it to myself and to other people); two, I know for a fact that looking back at what was always comes with a lot of lessons. You know, you take a walk down memory lane, you see the first signs of trouble, and then you get back to the present with a much clearer understanding of why things happened and why some people aren’t where you had imagined they would be in your life today. If you choose to read on, you might actually learn something from this.
So for many many years, I have been known by the people close to me as someone who is emotionally and socially unstable. About three or four months ago, I posted a status in Facebook that went like: “Can somebody please tell me what it feels like to have a life-long bestfriend? Just curious.” There are at least about 30 likes and 12 comments on that post. One comment that stood out to me was “I bet you have been wondering about this for a long time.” Not the exact words, but it went something like that. Well it’s true. I have been wondering what it feels like to have an ultimate partner in crime that will stand by you no matter what. Both of my brothers have such amazing bestfriends. Most of my friends also have partners in crime of their own. Even my aunt and cousins also live in this world with the foundations of very cool, very long-lasting friendships. And so I start to ask myself, what’s wrong with me?
For those who didn’t get the chance to know me when I was in high school, the guy with me in the pictures is Jerome. I am pretty sure that it is very safe to say that he is my ex-bestfriend. But don’t get ahead of yourself. This won’t be focused on him or on us. I am just using him as a certain symbol that is best to represent something else.
Jerome and I were bestfriends. It’s been almost two years since we last talked (like really talked). But on those old days, we would always have lunch together. I can’t really remember all the names of the food we used to order on a daily basis at our high school’s canteen, but they were mostly beef steak and pork barbecue. We would order what the other ordered. We would walk along the halls of the school with people looking at us wearing strange and bewildered layers of skin on their faces (yes, I always knew what most people thought that time). We would help each other out on assignments, projects, quizzes and most of all, research and thesis-writing. We would go out and drink with our other buddies, sleep over at each other’s house, meet and greet each other’s parents and siblings, talk about our dreams and most importantly, we would unconsciously learn from each other given our obvious differences.
I remember that time at Saga-sa. I’m sure not a lot of people know that place. Well, it’s a small strip of land not very far from Bacolod City. It’s where Jerome lives. Well there was that one time when I went there for a sleepover and just before the sun set, I sensed this incredible smell of nature. I don’t even know how to effectively describe it, but the way it smelled reminded me of green leaves, tall, shady trees and fresh air. We went outside his house, I looked up and saw a pale orange atmosphere in the skies. All I could really think at that moment was how idyllic his hometown is and how stress-relieving that kind of view was. A couple of hours later, we were called for dinner, and Tita Leila (Jerome’s mother) really left me in amazement the moment I tasted her green shells and grilled fish. Nothing really beats what’s fresh and natural. And that’s what I learned from that fateful day.
Later that night, I introduced my favorite tv series to him. At first he was really reluctant and skeptical. But I didn’t mind. I mean, I can be such a persistent influence on someone most of the time (HAHA). So we started with of course, the first episode of the first season of the series. That was like 9:00pm or something. At the end of the episode, he was saying that he loved it and that he wanted to watch one more episode. And so we continued. It was actually sort of weird because I had watched the first season literally three or four times before, but I still kept on watching it again and even found that I still think it’s very interesting and entertaining. The next thing I knew, we were already watching the eleventh episode, and the clock read 01:45am of Sunday. I was already very sleepy and exhausted that I actually begged him to stop watching. But my plead for mercy was of no sign of use. He kept on watching and even though I was already lying down the bed, I could hear the dialogue and I was simply playing the scenes in my head. So there. Within the period of eight hours, there we were watching 90210, my favorite tv series. We finished the season at nearly five in the morning and I was like “HOLY SH*T! We finished one full season in one sitting!”. What’s very memorable about that night is that I wasn’t really expecting that someone who plays soccer, listens to hard metal songs, knows how to cut woods and carries the image of a totally manly jock who makes all the girls go asdfghjkl could ever appreciate an American TV series so dramatic and flashy as 90210. But he did. He liked it, and on top of that, he also liked Annie Wilson (Shenae Grimes) the most in the show. She was our crush. Well, I don’t know with him now, but Shenae Grimes will always be my celebrity fantasy. *grin
So those were the days. I could elaborate more on the drunken nights, the sleepless talks, the shopping sprees and everything in between, but I won’t. What’s major with this reminiscence is the realization that comes with remembering certain people in our lives who somehow weren’t able to make it to our present. I am not saying that it was Jerome’s or my fault. Because really, it is nobody’s fault. Quite frankly, I can’t even remember why and when we started being cold to each other anymore. It’s almost like the reason is no longer there, but the effect remains iridescent. Sometimes we hate some people, we despise them and we curse them like there’s no tomorrow. But a day comes when we begin to forget why we’re mad on the first place. And this is where the wake-up call kicks in. The day we forget the reason why we are mad at somebody is the day that we realize that we were never really mad to begin with; we were only sad. We were sad because things didn’t turn out the way we wanted them to; because our expectations outshined the outcome; because as we grow up, we acquire the sufficient knowledge and wisdom that enable us to understand that life is an almost never-ending scope of closing cycles. And we don’t want that. No one wants that. No one wants that kind of life where he has to deal with the fact that good things always come to an end. But it’s neither a good nor a bad thing. It’s just the way life is.
My ex-bestfriend and I are probably never gonna be the same. We might see each other again a couple of years from now, or we might not even get a glimpse of each other at all. We might be friends again someday, or remain strangers for the remainder of our lives. We might bump into each other someday and naturally recall those days when we were almost like brothers, or we might forever be a mere memory of two high school buddies who used to dwell in the energy of one another but are now reduced to faces without names and names without faces…
It doesn’t really matter. Whatever our relationships with certain people have turned into, wherever they are right now (whether you two are living in the same block or in two places which are miles and miles away from each other), whoever they have become and however you live your life right now, there is absolutely no reason for you to be sad about the things and people that were. Because at the end of the day, “losing” someone isn’t a tragedy. It is just the current state of your affairs.