Final Distance

I wanna be with you 
Someday even this distance 
We'll be able to embrace 


Utada Hikaru
Final Distance 

It is half past midnight and I am on a bus heading to a place I have only seen in the front page of a daily newspaper. As to why my feet lead me there, only the heart could tell.

Beyond the glass window is a sea of darkness. Who would have thought that after living so long in the city, my soul would grow weary of the wilderness.

The mind is second guessing whether to proceed.

But the sea is calling in words I cannot refuse. Not just the sea but that jut of land at the edge of the landmass. My heart tells me to be there. I need to. There is a desire to shorten the oceanic distance.

A flash of lighting in the horizon, and then I remembered. A few days ago I was hard-pressed to pick the last location for the Larawan set. Must I choose the airport, where partings and eventual reunions take place?

I was there when JC left not just for abroad but at times when his presence was needed in his hometown. Two months ago, I was the last person he saw before boarding the plane. Come to think of it, he may end up in my arms should his plane lands at odd ours of the morning. 

Should I choose Contis instead, that fancy restaurant at Serendra? It is where Baabaa treated me for my birthday. To this day, the sweet aftertaste of the Mango Bravo lingers in my mouth. Like that memory of December when we strolled around The Fort, took pictures of big dogs and went shopping for my Christmas presents.

But in the end, what I chose was the most inconspicuous of places. The very spot where my heart was reborn and my words became one with the assembly of candles.

Monasterio De Santa Clara, Katipunan

“And I lit this second candle for the one who would come, so that in happiness and defeat, someone already cares.” And that one would be the Notthewimpykid, two years later. My life has remained in blissful recluse ever since.

If there is one reason I am temptation proof, and whose near-infinite patience can rival those of a monk despite my suppressed madness, it is because I gave my word while I was there – at the monasterio – and for all the times it was broken, my union with JC is my atonement.

Seldom are we given third chances.

Kapag nangungulila si kabiyak at magkausap kami sa Skype, he would joke around and tell me to buy a plane ticket so I could go to Ottawa and meet him at the park. He would sneak me inside his room so we could be together.

What he didn’t know is that I play with my imagination too. For someone who loves giving surprises, I would like a replay of what I did the first time we met.

“Baabaa! Grabe mamamatay na ako dito! Didn’t know the weather is a killer!”

“Huh asan ka ba?”

“Go out of your house, I’m trying to find a raccoon. Ayaw mo mag-take ng pictures eh.”

And then when he opens the door of his apartment building somewhere along Loretta Avenue, bigla ko na lang siya susurpresahin at sasabihing, 

“Happy Anniversary!”

Yeah Mugen, in your dreams.

But you know what, I am not the kind who would settle for anything less. Especially on special occasions. Maybe it is in my nature: to spring out of the box when nobody thought I could jump. I really don’t know. I guess I’m just saying that love can make people fly.

Conceived without anyone knowing; drawn without revealing the artist's true blueprint; executed precisely, hopefully, to the last detail, this is my resounding response to Baabaa’s wishful thinking:

Pacific Sunrise, Santa Ana, Cagayan

  

I know my feet won’t get me there, across the vast ocean, but let these currents carry my heartfelt words; no matter where you are, I will always find a way to walk after you.