‘READINGS’
BY: GMSLATIZA
©giadre2014
❦OBLATION ❦
MA PSYCHOLOGY. NOVEMBER
2005
PHAN 201. UNIVERSITY OF
THE PHILIPPINES, DILIMAN
Every student in
UP is greeted by the statue of a naked man that guards the entrance to the
campus in Diliman. This best represents UP’s approach to all education and the
respect for students that is the center of its educational philosophy.
Apparently, all who come to this University, regardless of origin, bring
themselves naked, carrying nothing but their thirst; like the proverbial empty
teacup, making an offering of self, waiting to be filled.
Yes. Exactly,
waiting to be filled.
I am Gabriele Ang,
a graduate student with no plan to graduate. How ironic isn’t it? I
entered graduate school for the right reason of just being pre-occupied because
I am empty, broken and lambasted. It is also a chastisement for being stubborn,
dull and most of all for wearing my heart on my sleeve.
As I passed
through the naked man, I can’t help but roll my eyes.
Men and that thing
between their thighs; I thought to myself. They think that by being
superior they all have permission to do whatever they wish and get away just
like that.
No. Do not misinterpret
me. I am not a man-hater but I am so close to it.
You see my life was
perfect. I have my life planned out and created a road
map of my future plan in major life areas such as family, work and lifelong
learning. I have fleshed out ideas and charted the successful patterns of
my life and use them as a tool for future decisions. Right on track after
graduation, I got a job as a writer in one of the biggest consulting company in
the Philippines. Not amiable but I got the chance to meet big players in the
business industry. These big players play a significant role in the society
because they hold enormous power and money.
Some of them are normal. A lot
are eccentric and others are I don’t know- unidentifiable and indescribable.
My job as a resume
writer is to reshape them and make them more interesting in papers. I make them
look amazing if they are not. I make them remarkable if they are not. While I
was working on a bunch of resume, I happened to meet this cool guy.
He is a doctor
with an impressive resume and a knack to sweep off the feet of any woman living
on earth. He is so beautiful that I often wondered if he is genetically
engineered.
He is six feet
tall, olive skinned with deep set light brown eyes, aquiline straight nose,
perfect bow lips, chiselled jaw and jet-black hair. He is eight years my senior
and apparently the nephew of the company’s president.
One morning, he
came to the office looking for me. He
needed his resume to be rewritten though in my opinion there is no work to be
done. Dealing with him and his resume, I told myself, will be the hardest task
assigned to me. Aside from I can’t see the point of rewriting it. My client is
staring at me like a wolf ready to devour his prey.
“I’m sorry, I
wasn’t able to introduce myself, I..” without me finishing the last word of my
sentence, the cool guy abruptly cuts in and finished the sentence for me.
“You are Gabriele!”
said the cool guy in a matter-of-fact-tone.
“The smart-
beautiful resume writer” he quickly added.
There was a moment
of silence. I just don’t know where to pick-up the conversation. I’m startled.
He broke the
silence by saying, “Sorry ha. I just wanted you to smile. Feeling ko nasa
principal’s office ako. For a pretty girl like you, you needed to smile. Let me
greet you goodmorning. I am..” I snap back without him finishing the last word
of his sentence.
“You are Emmanuel Ma
Cupps, the doctor” I said nonchalantly.
“It says in your
resume” I added quickly.
He paused for a
while and commented, ‘You are good. I like that”.
I smiled and
continue with the interview.
His answers were
impressive like my interview questions were pre-empted. He knows exactly what I
wanted to hear and how to get away with all the loop holes his resume has.
“ Okay, it says
here in your resume that you worked for Makati Medical Center as a Quality
Control Officer and at the same time an OPD doctor at East Avenue and an ER
doctor at National Kidney and Transplant Institute, how come you are holding
too many positions at a time” I bluntly asked like what any detective would do.
“Ummmm… moonlighting.
Alam mo ba yung moonlighting?” He said while grinning.
Moonlighting.
What the hell is moonlighting? All I know is that there is a demi-god in front
of me who resembles like the beautiful moonlight in a pitch black night. The way he looks at me makes me melt giving me
a hard time concentrating.
“Oh yeah right… ummm… moonlighting” taking his
sarcasm lightly. “This is none of my business but I wanted to ask you a rather
personal question, hope you don’t mind” I smiled coyly.
“Go ahead, anong
tanong mo?” he said
“Why.. ah.. ummm..
would like to go to Canada, live there for good; when you… ahh.. ummm.. a
promising career in the Philippines” I stutter.
He looked away,
stared at the window and when he looked back at me. His expression brightens as
he blurted the words, “Can I answer that with a mug of coffee?”
Surprisingly, I
answered “Yes”.
Our coffee
hang-outs became lunch dates. From lunch dates it progressed to lovely dinner
to invitation of meeting the parents.
It was Christmas
Eve when I met his parents. They have a large beautiful house in Alabang with enormous
garage and swimming pool. They have an orchid garden and a fountain at their
door opening. His dad was standing near it when we arrived. As soon as I
stepped out of the car, Eman’s dad hugged me tight.
“Finally, I was
able to meet my son’s girl, welcome!” He was warm and very accommodating.
“Come in. I want
you to meet my wife and my daughter,” he continued.
As Eman’s dad
ushered me inside their house to their dining area, I saw a funny childhood
picture of him at the console. He was doing hula-hoops while wearing a red mid-rib
shirt that looks like he borrowed from his sister. Eman saw me starring at it
and was quick to comment.
“My mom has a very
good fashion sense; she made me wear that crazy outfit for the United Nations
Day.”
Puzzled. Mid-rib
shirt and tight pants. What country represents that costume? I thought to
myself.
When we made it to
the dining area, Eman’s dad immediately introduces me to the rest of the family
and beacons me to sit while he passed the roasted chicken.
“San kayo
nagkakilala? At gaano na katagal?” Eman’s mom asks me.
“Sa… office po” I
replied
“Ah alam ko na
kung sino ang match maker” as she gently shakes her head.
Our dinner was not
enjoyable as I pictured it in my dreams. Aside from the uncomfortable questions
Eman’s mom is throwing. His sister is looking at me like some kind of a whore.
Eman drove me home
after dinner. We made a stop at a coffee shop to grab some coffee and dessert.
“Eman, di ako type
ng mom mo no?” I ask.
“Nah, she likes
you. She’s just afraid that I might get married soon. Look… Gabriele, you are
the first girl na dinala ko sa bahay so it is a natural reaction I supposed…
like separation anxiety? Relax okey.” he assured me and I believed him.
We were a couple for
good four years not until Eman’s immigrant visa came in the picture. The
immigrant lawyer advice us to let Eman established his residency in Canada.
Once established, he could file a fiancé visa for easy processing of
application.
Just as planned,
he flew to Canada. Everything was smooth not until I received an e-mail that he
met someone else and his name is Paul. I couldn’t believe what I am reading at
that moment that I have to read it aloud 10 times.
Sorry Gabriele... I met Paul.
What?! I kept on
reading it. This can’t be happening I told to myself. He can’t be serious of
breaking up with me a day before my interview at the Canadian Embassy. I am his
fiancé; there must be some mistake.
I kept on calling
and e-mailing him every second to seek for some answer about what went wrong,
what happened and how to go about the application. But there was no response;
not even a call nor a reply to my e-mails. He left me just like that. No
goodbyes; just a simple heartbreaking note that he met someone named Paul.
Apparently, his simple e-mail sends hundred of interpretations; that Eman is
gay, I am gullible, I am a fool to fall in love, his going to Canada is his
scapegoat, his mom and sister wanted me to pick-up the clues and that I am his
perfect cover-up.
Literally,
figuratively I’m broken.
He took my heart,
my future and my plans.
After a week, the
president of our company called me in his office and handed a check from Eman.
I didn’t want to get the check but his uncle insisted and gently explained that
it was gift from his nephew and his family though I didn’t hear from his
family. I accepted the check, thinking that it is my consolation prize for being
stupid and gullible.
The most annoying
part of breaking is that it leaves you in a vulnerable and defenseless
state. There are no concrete guidelines on how to sew yourself back up.
Everything is shattered, broken and lambasted. My family didn’t say a word but
I could feel their unconditional love and unwavering support to help me get
through the pain by putting up family retreats, out of town travels and night
out together.
Attending social
events are like attending funerals where friends greet you with “okey ka lang?
Iiyak mo lang yan Gabriele” and “I’m sorry about what happened to you”. There
are also numerous unsolicited advices on how to cope up and move on. Suddenly,
LIFE is not beautiful.
After a year I
decided to stand up and pick up the broken pieces. I spun changes in my life in
the best way possible and become my own internal PR department. I promised
myself to thrive and never to fall in love again. With the handsome pay check
Eman gave me, I resigned from his uncle’s company, took a freelance job and a
Master’s degree. I took MA Psychology.
“58 units; 18
units of Math and Statistics and 20 units of core subjects, field work and
thesis! eto na syllabus and registration mo, iha” said Amy, the college
secretary.
“Oh, wow! That’s a
lot of work” I mumbled.
“Post Graduate
kinuha mo, iha. Isipin mo muna bago ka mag-enroll. Dami ninyong di gumagraduate!”
Amy added.
“Ate, sino dito ’yung
mabait na professor,” I asked.
“Lahat naman yan mabait
at may saltik din. UP ito kaya wala yung bait-bait! Alam mo na dapat iyan bago
ka pumasok!” Amy wryly answered.
My few weeks as a
Psychology post graduate student are uneventful. We introduced ourselves and
did class briefings. My classmates are the typical nerdy-geeky type with thick
glasses, baggy clothes and old-fashioned hairstyles. Our classrooms are like
convents where you could hear the sound of a gentle fart.
Odd as it may
seem, I loved the deafening silence and intellectual inclined discussion where
zeitgeist of modern psychology are being discussed and scrutinized like a showbiz
gossip. Psychology contemporaries like Sigmund Freud, Karen Horney and Abraham
Maslow were also among the popular discussion of graduate students in MA
Psychology.
My class standing
was quite impressive for a Communication Arts graduate. I got an average of 1.5
for my major subjects and 1.75 for my pre-requisites.
Second semester
came in. All graduate students are required to take at least 2-3 subjects of
Math and Statistics.
Brave enough, I
took 2 out of the required 6 major statistics subjects.
Statistics was
like a therapy to the broken hearted. In an instant I forgot everything I went
through just by being at the class of Dr. Dela Rosa, who perfectly resembles a
monk. He is pale, thin and likes to do weird chants before the class starts to
eliminate the negative vibes. He also has this habit of calling me every so
often to solve statistical problems in front of the class.
“In a school, 60%
of pupils have access to the internet at home. A group of 8 students is chosen
at random. Find the probability that letter a… exactly 5 have access to the
internet and letter b…at least 6 students have access to the internet. Let’s
hear it from Ms. Ang”
“Sir, If ummm… a pupil is selected ummm at random and
asked if he/she has an internet connection at home, the answer would be yes?
Ahhh… ummm.. sorry no? ummmm… therefore it is ahhhh binomial experiment? The
probability of the student answering yes is 60% = 0.6.?”
“Will someone
help, Ms Ang, Yes Mr. Iwa.”
“Let X be the
number of students answering yes when 8 students are selected at random and
asked the same question. The probability that X = 5 is given by the binomial
probability formula as follows”
Then my nerdy classmate
flashed a grin at the whole class as if he is mocking me then proceeded in
writing the formula at the board
P(X = 5) = 8C5 (0.6)5 (1-0.6)3
= 0.278691
b) P(X ≥ 6) = P(X = 6 or X = 7 or X = 8)
Since all the events X = 6, X = 7 and X = 8 are mutually exclusive, then
P(X ≥ 6) = P(X = 6) + P(x = 7) + P(X = 8)
= 8C6 (0.6)6 (1-0.6)2 + 8C7 (0.6)7 (1-0.6)1 + 8C8 (0.6)8 (1-0.6)0
= 0.315394
b) P(X ≥ 6) = P(X = 6 or X = 7 or X = 8)
Since all the events X = 6, X = 7 and X = 8 are mutually exclusive, then
P(X ≥ 6) = P(X = 6) + P(x = 7) + P(X = 8)
= 8C6 (0.6)6 (1-0.6)2 + 8C7 (0.6)7 (1-0.6)1 + 8C8 (0.6)8 (1-0.6)0
= 0.315394
A day before the mid-term exams, Dr. Dela Rosa asked me to see him at his office at 8pm. He wanted to discuss my class standing. Just as the clock strikes 8, I knock at the door of Dr. Dela Rosa’s office.
“Goodevening Dr. Dela Rosa, I believe you
wanted to discuss something” I asked politely.
“Come in, Ms. Ang”
he said flatly.
“Yes, please sit
down.. I will be direct to the point. I think magaling ka naman at masipag but
I don’t think that this graduate course is for you. Reflecting on your
exercises.. You only got 1 out of 10. Your solutions are almost correct but
your answers are disturbingly wrong…. And yesterday’s quiz... you just got it
all wrong…” as Dr. Dela Rosa shook his head in dismay and continued talking. I
am motionless struggling to inhale, to exhale, to do anything; unable to speak
and totally stunned.
“Ms. Ang, I think
you better drop the subject because I have no way of passing you, I’m sorry”
said Dr. Dela Rosa with pained expression on his face.
The moment of
truth I have been waiting. After he explained the procedure in dropping major
subjects, he handed out the signed form 26 or the dropping slip and opened the
door for me.
Without a word, I
rise to my seat and walk towards the door.
I tried my
hardest. Still, I flunked. Flunked. The word bounces around the inside of my
skull until I heard someone saying, “Try applying for graduate studies in
College of Arts and Letters. I have read your application essay and heard your
speech during the interview. It is good” Dr. Dela Rosa gave a pat on my back as
he slowly walked down the dim hallway to the AS Building.
Next day, I found
myself at the graduate office of College of Arts and Letters, submitting my
records for transfer.
❦SP 201❦
MA SPEECH
COMMUNICATION. November 2007
AS 132. UNIVERSITY OF
THE PHILIPPINES, DILIMAN
I arrived 30
minutes early for my first class in Speech Communication. As I wait for my
classmates and professor to come in, I scribble down my goals on my planner “to
thrive and finish this semester unscathed”.
Because I am
anal-retentive, I wrote the step by step plan on how to excel and ace my way
through the top while mentally taking notes of the details.
One,
I would get the syllabus and requirements.
Two,
I would get the list of the books and do advance reading.
Three,
I wouldn’t come to class unprepared.
Four,
take note of the expectations and do advance research.
Fifth,
always be at class 30 minutes early.
Sixth,
meditate and focus.
Seventh,
do not fall in love. Never ever fall in love. Tell thy heart that its function
is to pump blood only.
I was about to
write my eighth goal, when a man who seems to be in his mid-50’s came in.
“Good morning
graduate students” he warbles as he attempts to save his last cigarette which
has fallen before he was able to light it. “I’m Dr. Lazatin, this is SP 201,
Introduction to Speech Communication. As I call your name please introduce
yourself to the class and hand over your registration cards. Let’s start with
Kristine Cruz” he continued.
My classmates are
mostly professors and teachers. I am the only writer and Freelance PR
practitioner in the class. Half way through the introduction, Dr Lazatin called
the second male specie in the class.
“Next. May we have
Mr. Re… Remington P. Banez” Dr. Lazatin said.
“Mr. Remington Banez” Dr. Lazatin repeated.
There was silence
and exchange of look to each other trying to locate the second male species.
“Mr. Banez,
Remington” Dr. Lazatin called again. “Is he around?” he continues.
Dr. Lazatin was
about to mark his attendance when a lanky man came rushing in like a bolt of
lightning. I watched him as he makes his way toward the stage of the classroom.
Medium height, skinny build, baggy clothes; distressed is registering
on his face. You can see his struggle to remain calm as he was 45 minutes late.
“Okey class, let’s
give it up to the late Mr. Remington Banez” Dr. Lazatin exclaimed with sarcasm.
There was a wild
laughter at the audience that Dr. Lazatin must stand up to signal that much
needed ‘silence’.
“Good morning, I
am Remington Banez, a professor … residing at Malolos Bulacan” while the lanky
guy introduce himself. I was interrupted by my seatmate, who donned 90’s high
waist pants and boxy shirt with subtle incorporation of butch- femme dualities
--- the tradition poles of lesbian sartorial identity.
“Gabriele, right?”
she said.
“Yep,” I
reluctantly answered.
“Hi!” She quickly
offered her hand.
Puzzled, I looked
at her deciphering if she is a lesbian.
“Sorry, I’m Jhen…
straight” she quickly explained.
“Your name is Jhen
Straight?” I teased her.
“Sira ulo ka
talaga, Gabriele,” She let out a sigh of relief as I smiled at her.
Remington was
about to finished his long introduction, when Dr. Lazatin ask him about his
nickname.
“So what are we
going to call you?” Dr Lazatin asked.
“You could call me
RR” he snaps.
Unexpectedly I
laugh.
“RR! Kaloka! Pangalan
ng aso ko yun nung 10 years old ako.”
“Ulol, bold star!
RR Enriquez, yung nasa FHM. Idol siguro ni kuya ” Jhen explained.
“Pustahan tayo,
bading yan!” laughing uncontrollably.
“What the hell!” Jhen
laughed.
As Jhen and I
laughed uncontrollably, Dr. Lazatin called our attention.
“What is so funny
Ms. Ang?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I
chuckled.
The whole class
turned silent as they turned their attention to me.
“Mayday Mayday”
Jhen whispered.
Dr. Lazatin was
still waiting for my explanation. I decided to straighten up and answer in a
serious tone “Nothing serious Dr. Lazatin” I explained further.
“What is not
serious in this University Ms. Ang? We are all serious, aren’t we? That is why
you are taking post graduate degree.” says Dr. Lazatin.
“I understand…
Believe me it is nothing serious,” I lamely explained, hoping the professor
would let me off the hook.
“Ok, just this
once, Ms. Ang….This is Speech Communications and you are supposed to articulate
your thoughts,” Dr. Lazatin reiterates.
Feeling the blood
drained in my face. I darted a glance to our laughing stock, Remington Banez
and found him staring back at me. I quickly lowered my gaze and pretended like
nothing happened. I reminded myself that the class will be over soon. As I look
up again, I found Remington’s eyes still trained on mine.
Is he reading my
thoughts? Has he heard our conversation; about him being gay and his odd
name that reminds me of my dog?
“Okey, let’s do
groupings... ” As Dr. Lazatin announced how to go about the groupings and
report requirements, we wrote our name at a piece of paper and drop it at the
fish bowl for draw lots.
“Sana Gabriele
magkagroup tayo” Jhen beamed with excitement.
“First group to
report ‘Intrapersonal Communication’ will be Ms. Bayang and Ms. Reyes.. Second
Group to report ‘Interpersonal Communication’ will be Ms. Panes and Ms. Maida
Fox..” as Dr. Lazatin calls the name of the reporters, I kept on thinking whether
to ask for an apology to Remington for laughing loud while he is introducing
himself or to let the issue dissipate into thin air.
“Last group to
report ‘Intercultural communication’ will be Mr. Banez and Ms. Ang” says Dr.
Lazatin.
Is Dr. Lazatin
playing god? I thought to myself. He must be joking to partner me with my new
found enemy?
“Oh my God girl!
Sineryoso ang pagiging man’s bestfriend mo?” Jhen shouted in high pitch.
After class I
decided to approach Remington to make peace and work on our reporting. He was
sitting at the extreme right end of the classroom near the AVP door, filling up
his class card for SP 201.
“Hi RR, about the
reporting, how do we go about it?” I heard my voice cracked as I was lil bit
nervous.
“Matagal pa naman
yun, ‘di ba?” He casually commented.
“Oo pero baka
gusto mong simulan na ngayon, para we would not cram?” I politely asked.
He stops writing
and shot a look at me like a warning to never to mess up with him.
I smiled coyly,
“Ummm…”
He took hold of my
gaze for a while and nod. Like an unspoken command, I wrote my number in a
piece of paper from my notebook and handed it over to him.
“Sige sa library
na lang, Saturday 10 am” he said dryly as he pick up his back pack and storm
out of the room leaving me puzzled.
It crosses my mind
that Remington’s calm and normal demeanor masks a complete madman. He must have
a terrible childhood.
I misjudged him.
He must be gay.
❦LIBRARY❦
Because Dr.
Lazatin understands that all of us are working professionals and the class is
7:30 in the morning, he gave us leeway for group collaboration, research and
report preparation.
UP CAL library
opens eight in the morning on weekends and closes 12 noon. With a simple text
message, Remington reminded me to meet him at 10 in the morning at the general
reference section.
On my way to the
library, I decided to drop by the nearby cafeteria to grab freshly baked
cupcakes. I plan to give it to my report partner, hoping that it will be a sign
of goodwill.
CAL Library is
the newest library in UP. It is always jam packed with students though it is
large. It holds all of the references for Communication Students including the
new limited edition books of which should be given a week reservation prior to
borrowing. As, I head to the general reference section, I saw Remington with a
bunch of books neatly piled in front of him. Before I opened my mouth to say
something, he handed my papers.
“Eto na readings
mo… Tapos na… o paano kailangan ko na umalis may gagawin kasi ako” he picked up
the books and in a flash was gone.
As I sift through
the pages of the readings, I have noticed that Remington had taken out the
first few chapters leaving me clueless on what has been discussed on the
earlier readings. I decided to ask the Librarian regarding the references that
Remington used.
“Ay sorry, nakuha
na yung libro. Isa lang kasi yun”
“Ate, wala na
talagang copy nun? Isa lang talaga yung libro?”
“Oo isa lang
talaga,” said the librarian
Furious, I called
up Jhen to vent out.
“Hello….Jhen?”
“Yes, Gabriele?”
“You would
not believe this, my dog just set me up”
“Ano?”
“Kagroup ko si
Remington, di ba? Kanina nagkita kami sa Library para pag-usapan yung report. Pinazerox
niya ‘yung report ko .. but the problem was he took the first few chapters.
Sympre interrelated yun… How could I get the history, eh, isa lang yung libro?…
Hiniram pa niya”
“Gumaganti sa iyo
girl… Sinabi mo kasi na aso siya”
“Sabi ko,
kapangalan niya aso ko… ‘Di ko sinabing aso siya!”
“Gan’un na rin ‘yun,
Nasaan ka na ba?”
“I’m near the
bahay ng alumni”
“Malapit na rin
ako…Alam mo, dyan nagumpisa ang lolo’t lola ko… wala kang bf ‘di ba? Baka iyan
na hinihintay mo?”
“Che! Leche!”
❦REPORTING ❦
Days became
weeks. I didn’t bother to talk to Remington about the report. I decided to have
it my way and look for alternative references. Every Saturday after our class
in SP 201, I would see Remington on the same spot in the library working on his
part of our report and I, on the other hand, would go on the opposite aisle to
look for references.
While looking and
digging on books, I caught his eyes trained on me, only to quickly flit away.
He must be guilty I thought.
A week before the
reporting, Remington approached me and asked me if I am all set.
I nod and gave
him a fake smile.
“So see you next
Saturday?” Remington politely asked.
Without looking
at him, I answered flatly “Yeah, sure”.
My week before
the reporting was filled with deadlines and reports. I spent sleepless nights
reading and writing research papers for my other subjects. In between breaks, I
do my presentation for SP 201.
Saturday came and
the bad news broke: I woke up at the
wrong side of the bed and was late for class.
“The foundation
of Intercultural Communication Competence is the capacity to avoid Ethnocentrism.
When we say Ethnocentrism…” hearing Remington reporting my part was enough to
scare the hell out of me. I am an hour late! I can’t suppress my disappointment
in myself for the lack of discipline.
For a moment, I
didn’t know what to do. Should I come in and apologize? I thought to myself.
Should I call in sick or better yet- should I get in and take over?
Gaining
confidence, I decided to do the latter. I counted one, two …. three..
I swung the door
opened and blurted “Thank you Mr. Remington Banez for that nice introduction.
Good morning everyone!”
I could see how
stunned my professor and classmates were when I took over just the way I did.
So brave. So
stupid.
Even Remington
was appalled that his mouth was left opened and could not utter a word.
I decided to
continue with my stupidity. I talked swiftly and pretended to be confident.
Remington was still standing near the stage when I finished my report.
“You have taken
us by surprise, Ms. Ang” Dr. Lazatin commented.
I half smiled.
“I just have some
few questions here.. actually .. ummm.. a lot I suppose.. When you said Ethnocentrism..what..
do…” while Dr. Lazatin was formulating his questions. I froze. I feel my
insides contracting with anxiety. All I could hear is the beating and pounding
of my heart slamming at my rib cage. I stared at Dr. Lazatin as he opens his
mouth to utter words. I was hoping to figure out and read what he is saying but
I couldn’t hear it.
“Ms. Ang… Ms. Ang”
I can hear my
name being called by Dr. Lazatin but could not utter a word. It’s not until Remington
decided to answer in my behalf that I realize I must have completely stopped
the circulation in his hand. That I have been tightly holding to it all
throughout the reporting.
“Okay… though I
am not satisfied with your group’s reporting… I guess there is a team work
there as implied by the tightly gripped hands” Dr. Lazatin sarcastically
commented.
“Okay class,” Dr.
Lazatin continued “will be using the same groupings; your final requirement
will be three research papers on….” As Dr. Lazatin discussed our final
requirement, I keep on replaying the scenes during the reporting. Am I too
fast, too slow- I just couldn’t point out what went wrong?
“Those who
didn’t do well in the reporting must do well in the three research papers or
else I don’t have any choice but to fail you” Dr. Lazatin reiterates.
Fail you. The
phrase bounces back and forth in my ears. Not again I told myself.
“And, Ms. Ang,
you may let go of Mr. Banez’s hand. You may also take your seat,” Dr. Lazatin
smiled.
Dr. Lazatin’s
words sent shivers in my spine because I am half failing and I realize that
I am still glued to Remington. Holding his hand so tight. As I force my stiff
fingers to open, Remington massages his hand and looked up to me with concern.
“Are you okay?
Thank you for showing up… You actually discussed things in my report that I
wasn’t able to tackle well,” Remington gives me a smile that seems so genuinely
sweet with a touch of shyness that unexpectedly warm my heart.
“Care for a walk?
Let’s discuss our final requirement” Remington says with a faint smile.
❦ VARGAS MUSEUM ❦
Jorge B. Vargas
Museum is few blocks away from the AS Building. It houses the collection of
art, stamps and coins, personal papers and several memorabilia that provide
students an important narrative of the Philippine modern art history from the
realism of the European salon to post-impressionism. The museum also includes
the painting of the masters of Philippine art such as Fernando Amorsolo, Juan
Luna, and Felix Resurrección Hidalgo to name a few.
Right past the
steps of the building is a little café meant to serve students as well as the
university's visitors. I saw several Koreans dining and sipping their cups of
coffee as Remington head to the café bar.
Disoriented. I
sat near the entrance of the museum and let my thoughts wander while I wait for
Remington. Inside the museum were students mostly foreigners surveying some of
the artworks currently displayed in the vast exhibition halls of the Vargas. It
was a Saturday, and yet, the museum was so alive. Though my surroundings are
very much alive, in my mind, the images wedged itself in a wash of beiges, cast
in sepia, as if forever trapped in the half-light of either dusk or dawn.
“Binili kita” Remington
handed out the Iced Frappuccino to me as I stared at him with no response.
“Alam ko yung mga
katulad mo mahilig sa mga frappuccino ‘di ba?.. Sandali lang ha? nakalimutan ko
humingi ng kutsara.”
Returning back,
Remington asks me, “Gusto mo?”
I shake my head
sideways and wondered what the spoon is for.
“Tara na” Remington
smiled as he paced down the stairs.
❦ SUNKEN GARDEN ❦
There was silence
as we walk together aimlessly for an hour at the most famous landmark of the
campus, the sunken garden.
I watched the
jeepneys, cars and joggers passed by. Not until I got distracted by the
crashing sound of ice in Remington’s cup.
“Chak! Chak!
Chak! Chak!”
He apparently has
an odd way of drinking or should I say eating Frappuccino. He would crash the
ice first using a spoon and mix it thoroughly until there is no lump. Then he
will eat it like that of ‘halo-halo’ dessert. I find it weird that he ditches the
straw and use spoon instead.
Remington caught
me watching him intently. He turned red. I decided to break awkward silence by
asking him.
“Whose idea was
the hand holding anyway?”
Remington smiled
and relax a bit.
“Mine, I guess?”
he teases.
Remington quickly
picks up with comment “Walang babaeng humawak ng kamay ko ng ganun kahigpit…
maliban sa nanay ko nung bata ako.. pag tumatawid ng kalye.” He laughs.
There was silence
again. This time it was Remington who broke the silence.
“Teka, Bakit ka
nagmasters?” He asks
I let out a sigh “Para
tumalino.” I answered.
Unsatisfied with
the answer, he follows up with a question “Ito ba talaga and gusto mo Speech Communications?”
“Hindi. Nag-psychology
ako”
He asks again,
“Ummm… Bakit ka nag psychology?”
“Para gamutin
sarili ko,” I say, observing him carefully
“Bakit? Baliw ka
ba?” He teases.
“Siguro… Oo”
Remington laughs
and asks the question right on cue, “Ang baliw di niya alam na baliw siya. So,
good news ‘yun dahil ibig sabihin ‘di ka baliw.. ‘di ba?”
I decided not to
answer.
“May problema ka
ba?.. Masama ba ang childhood mo?”
Again, I decided
not to respond to his question.
“May bf ka?” He asks
again.
I nod,
unreadable.
“Gaano na
katagal?”
Void of emotion,
I answered “Mag-four sana”
“Sige, kwento mo
sa akin… but first, let’s get something to eat…gutom na ko.. puro inom tayo eh
okey lang ba? My treat.. beach house tayo?” Remington suggests.
I grin at him and
realize that I’m starving and the coffee is not enough. I accepted his offer of
goodwill.
❦ FINAL REQUIREMENTS ❦
Remington was
surprisingly likeable. His companionship replaced my long solitary hours in the
coffee shop and library trying to decipher what went wrong to my almost-perfect
life. He turned into so much more than a report partner. He became my
confidante- someone with whom I could share my deepest thoughts. In exchange,
he trusted me with his.
Remington is the
eldest child with three younger siblings. His dad is a church preacher and his
mom is a teacher. He grew up in the province of Bulacan. Most of his childhood
memories are spent in attending to his three younger siblings. He is a hard
worker who is fiercely devoted in protecting his family and providing support
for them. He loves film, poetry and nature. He loves taking pictures of strange
things and seeing beauty in it. As he would always say in the words of late
poet Edgar Allan Poe, “There is no exquisite beauty-without some strangeness in
the proportion”.
He enjoys viewing
photographs in black and white. In his opinion, black and white photos evoke a
different set of emotions. Pictures become more alive, more dramatic and
convincing simply because other elements like lighting, contrast, texture,
tonal qualities and composition take on a bigger role in telling the story. The
part of stripping away the vibrancy of color, allow him to get down to the real
essence of the image, to re-think and to have better eye for its true
meaning. He also has this habit of
taking snap pictures of me and right after pressing the camera button he would
ask me the question “What are you thinking Gabriele?”
He is also a traveller and by nature a nomad. I love hearing his adventure and compelling stories
about his travels; the peculiar culture, and the people he met as well as the
cuisine he has tasted to how he got food poisoned from an exotic food he tried
in the mountain province of Benguet and how lucky he was to get out alive when fell
from what looks like a gorge.
His kind, gentle
and caring nature draws me closer to him. Unknowingly, I always packed extra
spoons with me for his Frappuccino. I would do the crashing of ice and mixing until
his Frapuccino resembles a melted ice cream while he, on the other hand, took
pictures of me. Doing little favours for him make me happy.
We were
inseparable. Our social hours were well spent on long walks at the sunken
garden, photo shoots of places in UP and at the library where we exchange readings,
write our term papers, and brain storm to probe on circumstances that nobody
else has thought or at least in our opinion.
One time while we
were walking at the sunken garden, Remington asks me:
“What impressed
you most since you studied here?”
I racked my brain
for an answer.
“I guess it
is the educational freedom. Oh! And me holding your hand when I froze? Your
turn… What impressed you most since you studied here?”
There was a
moment of silence. Then he looked at me and locked his gaze while he uttered
the answer.
“The readings…
Because it is hard to find that perfect readings and once you find it, its
beauty unfolds each time you read it… like there are new revelations and
information to love”
I sighed. That
was deep, I thought to myself. I couldn’t even fathom what he meant by that
phrase.
❦ SEMESTRAL BREAK ❦
Final week came
in and we were able to pass our requirements just on time. I agreed to meet Remington
at the coffee shop of Vargas Museum for a mini celebration.
It has been a
week and a half since I last saw Remington. I have to admit that I missed him. There
was also mixed emotions going on inside of me. I am both sad and happy at the
same time. I’m sad because the semester ended up quickly and happy because I
was able to finish unscathed.
Remington was sitting
in the coffee shop when I spotted him. He was wearing denim long sleeves,
fitted jeans and suede boots that gave him just the right amount of ‘swag’.
“Whoa! Someone
has that ‘swag’ tonight! San ang date?” I commented in conversational tone.
“Wala para maiba
naman tingin mo sa akin. Sabi mo kasi dugyot ako,” He teases.
We decided to
take that long walk to chocolate kiss so we could catch up with our plans and
other post graduate happenings.
“So, tell me, Mr.
Swag… Who is your date tonight that you look, oh, so beautiful?” I tease him.
Remington gives
an unconvincing shake of his head.
“Okay… I’m
serious. Do you already have a girlfriend back home?” I ask.
Remington gives
another unconvincing shake of his head.
“Come on… Remington,
I am really serious… What’s her name and what is she like?” I insisted.
“Well… ummmm…Meron
akong babaeng nagustuhan… It was love at first sight. I guess… She is beautiful
and she is not aware of it…Actually, the more I look at her the more she blooms.
She is not the ordinary girl you would encounter… Smart, unpredictably interesting…
like she is very opinionated, at times animated and fussy. I fell in love with
her beautiful mind, her passion, the way her eyes light up when she talks about
the thing she loves. She also loves to travel like me. She is a visionary. Pero ‘di ko alam kung alam niya na interesado
ako sa kanya… She’s not likable but she’s unforgettable”
“Wow! What a
description. Then, why don’t you tell her?”
There was a
poignant look at Remington’s face, “I am not what she wants. I am not what she
is looking for.”
“I guess, she has
a name right?”
“Yeah… May
pangalan yun… Tao naman siya… hindi statwa..she’s someone close to you”
“To me?”
“She is my …”
before Remington could even blurt out the name, my phone rings hysterically.
It was my mom.
She called to say my dad died.
Our mini
celebration was cancelled. I said goodbye to Remington.
❦ AWOL ❦
When I learned
the news that my dad passed away without me by his side, I was devastated. It
was like everything was taken away from me. I lost all my hope and my plans to
succeed in life.
I am a daddy’s
girl. My dad was a talented microbiologist, a loving husband, and caring father
to three girls. He was my inspiration and my hero simply because he believes in
me. My dad has his special way of loving, motivating and disciplining the
‘stubborn mule’ in me. When I was little, my teacher asked us to color the
leaves green, because I am an experiential learner; I decided to color it
black-brown and even suggested it to the whole class while my teacher took
bathroom break. When my teacher returns, she was furious because I orchestrate
the whole thing of not following instructions. I was immediately sent at the principal’s
office for some serious reprimand.
My dad came later
that afternoon to see the principal and my teacher. They explained my
uncontrollable conduct and how I am getting to their nerves by my opposing
behaviour. After visiting the principal, he talked to me at the corner of the room.
“Why did you
color the leaves brown and black?”
“Because it is
November?”
“And…go ahead I’m
listening…”
“It is cold”
“And…”
“It is fall! I
read it in a book that leaves turn into brown when it is fall”
My dad let out a
loud laugh.
“Just as I suspected…
then why did you instructed your classmates to color it brown?”
“because I don’t
want to be different and I don’t want them to laugh at me… are you angry?”
My dad hugged me and
said “No, I think you are a born leader. You want a Jollibee ice cream?” This
was the most vivid memory of my dad. He was my epitome of success, of love and
of hope. His passing away inflicted a severe blow in my life; like everything
was ruin.
My mom and I
immediately schedule our flight to United States of America to arrange the
funeral rites of my father. While waiting for our flight, I received a call
from Remington.
“ Hello” I
answered.
“Gabriele, alam
ko paalis ka na ngayon… just wanted to say ummm ‘ingat’ and have a safe flight.
I am sorry to hear about your dad”
“ Ummm..
Thanks…RR…Hey thanks for everything… I wasn’t able to tell you that I
appreciate your help”
“Sus!… Wala ‘yun…
It was my pleasure… ummmm…ah…”
“Yes?”
“Well, It is not
a good timing… but, I may ahh.. ummm”
“Oh sorry…. I
have to cut you… We have to go on board now… E-mail me, okay? Bye RR…Gonna miss
you!”
I cut the call
and turn off my cellphone.
Life in America
was different. Days were quick and nights were short. Because the cost of
living is high in New York, I have to juggle 3 to 4 jobs to be able to pay
bills, rent and other miscellaneous. In the morning, I would work as a
copywriter, then hotel receptionist in the evening. My weekend job entails
running errands and doing personal shopping for the rich and famous.
Occasionally, I walk dogs and clean houses of A-list artists. Living abroad is
not a bed of roses. Contrary to what most Filipinos claim.
Of course, my
fascination to learning has not changed. In my free days, I would visit museums
and spend hours in the library reading. I would usually open my e-mail at the
library because internet connection is free. This is the time when I check
Remington’s messages. His e-mails make me feel I’m back home. He often shares
his researches, how his day went, and his writing about gender communication of
which was inspired by me. He sent his initial draft with a title “Initial Exploration
of Maloleños’ Verbal Patterns in romantic relationships”. Suddenly, I missed
going back to school.
Before Remington’s
graduation, he e-mailed me a couple of invitations for his panel defense in CAL
auditorium and kept me posted on his whereabouts. Apparently, he was nominated
for best thesis for Masters of Arts.
I could not be
happier after learning through his e-mail that he received the award for best
thesis of the year for Masters of Arts. After his graduation, I received
several e-mails of his pictures and snippets of the video taken while he is
doing his speech. Later that night, he e-mailed me again and asked if I am
going back to the Philippines.
I replied “NO”
Then a few
minutes later, I received an e-mail saying “Goodbye.”
That was his last
e-mail. It broke my heart that I would not hear from him again but I guess,
everything happens for a reason. That reason is the thing I need to find out
and accept.
Eight years
later, America was struck by bad recession. The economy in the US was doing
poorly that my family was forced to go back to the Philippines.
❦ MAXIMUM RESIDENCY ❦
As soon as we
arrived, I decided to go back to UP to finish what I started. I went to the
places Remington and I used to go and spend hours hanging out. They were not
the same. A lot of things changed.
My favourite
Beach House was closed and relocated. The spot where I used to hang out was
replaced by a large bookshelf. The card catalog was replaced by computers.
Everything has changed in a span of ten years.
I went to the
graduate office, which was at the ground floor before, but was relocated at the
4th floor. I filed for a Maximum Residency and re-applied for post
graduate studies.
“Ms. Ang, welcome
back!” The graduate secretary hugged me.
“Ang tagal mo
nawala. Are you still single o nag-asawa ka na?”
“Ay single pa po.”
“Yang ganda mo na
yan… Single ka pa rin? Anong nangyari at napauwi ka?”
“Tapusin ko lang
ito, ate, para wala na ‘kong iisipin ‘pag bumalik ako sa America”
“Oo, mahirap ‘yung
may unfinished business. Eto, iha… ‘punta ka sa VP for academic affairs… Submit
your letter of intent to re-apply”
“Okay, salamat po.”
“Tapusin mo na
yan. Lahat ng kasabayan mo tapos na.”
After completing
my re-application, I enrolled for second semester and thought of RR.
❦ SP 204❦
Days turned into
months and months progressed into year. I was down to my last core subject while
writing my thesis. I took qualitative research, my last subject before I
graduate.
Staying true to
my goals, I came to class 30 minutes early. I was happy to see that Room AS 132
is still the same; the stage was still there, though the blackboard was
replaced by white board. Chairs are still rustic. The feeling was still the
same when I first entered the room ten years ago.
My classmates
came in. They are all young and fresh. They talked about selfies, instagrams and
social media happenings of which I could not relate to. I decided to put my
earphones on and focus on writing my thoughts in my journal.
Few minutes more,
someone came in and introduced himself very briefly. I didn’t bother to look at
him as I was paying close attention to what I am writing.
“Welcome to SP
204 class. This is qualitative research … please hand over your registration
forms and introduce yourselves staring from the left”
While my classmates
introduce themselves, I am busy writing my plans on how to go about my thesis.
I enumerated my objectives and how to accomplish them. I calculate the days,
hours and minutes on how to finish my thesis. Literally, I wasn’t paying
attention to our class because I was numbering my days. I was so engrossed with
my planning that I forgot it is my turn to introduce myself.
“Next please,” the
professor repeated.
As soon as I stood
up and look at our professor. I was stunned- it was Remington. For a minute or
two, I was just standing staring at him. He, on the other hand, was appalled
that he could not even utter a word.
As I got back to
my senses, I quickly head to the stage of the classroom to introduce myself.
“Hi, everyone, I
am a returning MA student” as I continue introducing myself I looked at
Remington and saw his eyes was still fix on me.
“I’m almost done
with my thesis right now about Organ Donation. My thesis is very personal to me
because my dad died without an organ donor. I came back in the Philippines to
finish my post graduate degree….. Because you know… no one wants an unfinished
business”
My classmates
began to chuckle at my statement. But it’s true I return to finish what I
started.
“Moving on, I am
a PR Practitioner and a Freelance Writer. I am Gabriele Ang”
The professor
still holds my gaze and his face turned pale like seeing a ghost from his past.
After class, he
approached me while I am talking to my group mates.
“Could I excuse
us for a second?” He told my group mates as he ushers me outside towards the
hallway.
Outside, the air
gone cold suddenly it feels like Christmas.
“I don’t know
where to start… You still haven’t change. Ikaw pa rin yung babaeng ‘full of
surprises’… One moment you are gone and the next thing …You are here”
I pretended to be
lost in thoughts that his words make no sense.
“You don’t
remember me, do you?” He asks.
I shake my head
sideways. Then he animatedly tells the story of how we met.
The truth is I
know who he is. I just don’t want to complicate things. It has been more than eight
years and he might have been married or probably engage. How could I forget the
man who has done me favours and who made me believe that life is beautiful.
“I guess… I am
sorry… You could go back to your group mates. I have to go then” He said with a
pain look in his eyes.
When he is about
to walk away, I got hold of his hand.
“So how’s your
hand, is it still working?” I said sheepishly.
He turned with a
smile “Well, I have to say I did miss your sarcasm. Wow! Look at you. You look
so different. I would not recognize you at all if you hadn’t say your name back
there… Just kidding.. I know who you are from the moment I entered the room. I
was actually glancing – You were so busy writing stuff on your journal- as usual.”
“You know me
well. You changed too.” I replied. “You got that swag and you’re bit buff. I
could see muscles in there. I mean you’re not the lil boy I used to mock inside
the classroom. You have grown up… I like your wrinkles and you are no longer my
puppy” I laughed.
He turned
serious.
“I wasn’t
expecting to see you again. I’m happy to see you. By the way, I wasn’t able to
introduce myself. I’m Remington P. Banez, your report partner”
I smiled and
replied, “Glad to meet you, Dr. Banez, I am Gabriele Ang your student in SP
204. Hope I would be able to meet you expectations.”
“You already
did.Coffee?”
“Sure. Dr. Banez.”
❦ THESIS ❦
Remington and I
would go for a long walk along the Academic Oval every after class. He has not
changed. He is still the interesting guy I knew way back then though I feel a
bit uneasy calling him Dr. Banez. Perhaps the title gives me a cringe. His point
of view is deep. His kindness never falters. He also seems to have this
unending source of willpower and passion. He is no doubt a talented professor
and an engaging lecturer who helps even students who have no interest in
research enjoy the subject.
Students
universally enjoy his teaching because he tries hard to connect with them on an
individual level, and is incredibly accessible if students need help or
mentoring. His impact on the campus has been nothing if not positive. Students
praise him for not only his knowledge of the subject, but also his genuine
desire to help his students improve as researchers.
“Congratulations.
You passed the defense. I was watching you while you were defending your thesis.
You did great.”
“Thank you for
coaching me, Dr. Banez. Never would have made it without you.”
“So, this is the
reason why you came back right?”
“Oo… para magtapos…
Matatapos na rin kasi”
“Alin ang matatapos?”
“Ummm… ‘yung MA ko.”
“ Ah okey…
Naweirduhan ako sa sagot mo… Weird ka talaga. So how does it feel to finished
the unfinished business?”
“Masaya. Malungkot”
“Malungkot? O,
bakit naman malungkot?”
“Because everything
is coming to an end”
Remington stared at
me, trying to fathom what I meant by my last statement. Before he could open
his mouth to say something, I stop his lips with a kiss and he returns my kiss.
This could be my
last day in UP. Last day to see Remington.
❦ READINGS ❦
I woke up with a
delicious feeling of happiness. This feeling is eternal it feeds me more than
any nourishment. I couldn’t stop thinking about Gabriele. Today, I would tell her how I feel. That I
have been waiting for her all these years just to say the complicated phrase ‘I
love you’.
I arm myself with
courage and strength and head out to attend to my SP 204 class.
“Good afternoon class,
let’s continue with the report…” my eyes search for Gabriele. I slowly scanned
the four corners of the classroom and found that she is not in her seat. I felt
a sudden sadness and jolt of pain.
Gabriele. I can’t bear
the idea of her leaving me again. All I have right now is a memory of her. I
began to hold on to those memories; for fear that if I should ever loosen my
grip on them the memories will escape me and never come back … that it will
vanish in the same way she did ten years ago, with no promise of return.
“Sir? Sir? Finish
na po”
“Okay class
dismissed. Don’t forget to pass your requirements. See you on next meeting”
Days passed by and
there was no sight of Gabriele in class. I checked my class record and she has
a total of 3 absences. There was no e-mail. No text message. No. Nothing. Anxiety
filled me with restless dreams at night and remained with me the next following
days. I could not comprehend the existential anguish of Gabriele leaving me
that I couldn’t sleep and even eat. She was very much a part of me. How could
someone so amazing, so loving and so caring turn so cold? How can two hearts so
closely welded together come apart so easily?
How could I ever possibly say good bye when the only words that seem to
escape my lips are “I love you. Please come back.”
I feel very angry
at myself for letting down the walls and entertaining that feeling. I should
have repressed my feelings for Gabriele a long time ago. After my class, I
decided to look up at the CRS of UP. It is the Computerized Registration System
of the University that details the student information. As soon as I have seen
her student profile, I immediately scribble her address. She lives in an
apartment in Leviste Street, Salcedo Village in Makati. I took a cab and rush,
hoping to see her again.
While at the cab, I
replay our last conversation.
“
Ah okey… Naweirduhan ako sa sagot mo… Weird ka talaga. So how does it feel to
finish the unfinished business”
“Masaya.
Malungkot”
“Malungkot?
O bakit naman malungkot?”
“Because
everything is coming to an end”
Her last phrase bothers
me. What does she meant by that phrase? Because everything is coming to an end. I remember her face. There was a long pause
when she answered my last question. Could she be in love with someone else or worst
could she be marrying someone else?
I knocked at the
door of her house. It was 4 in the afternoon. I could hear from the inside that
someone is ready to move out. There was a sound of packaging tape being torn
from the roll.
“ Tao po… Gab?
Gabriele?.. Tao po”
The front door
opened and a bald man in late 60s answered.
“Sino po sila?”
“Ah manong,
Kaibigan po ako ni Gabriele. Tanong ko lang po kung nandyan siya. Di po kasi
siya pumasok ng ilang araw sa klase.”
“Naku! Wala na
siya! Di mo ba alam?”
“Wala na po siya?”
“Oo nasa America
na. Kinuha na siya ng mommy niya at kapatid niya”
“Talaga po? Kailan
pa?”
“Ummm… n’ung isang
linggo pa.. Naospital kasi siya.. ‘tapos ‘ayun di na niya nakayanan… ‘eto nga inaayos
ko na yung mga karton at iba pang naiwang gamit niya… kasi darating na yung
magrerenta ng apartment”
“Meron po ba kayong
number niya sa America?”
“Wala eh…’Teka iho…
di yata tayo nagkakaintindihan… namatay na siya nung isang linggo… biglaan yung
pagkamatay niya… pero ang sabi ng mga doktor matagal na raw na may sakit yun.
Sayang nga kasi ang bata bata pa… Napakabait ng batang ‘yun…” While the
landlord talks, his words make no sense to me as my heart literally stops.
She died. I can’t
believe what I am hearing right now. A sharp pain stabs my heart. I was
completely unprepared.
Memories flashed
back; our first meeting, the way she held my hand tight, our long walks and the
kiss. It flashed so fast in my mind that I could not hold any longer, my heart
bleeds. She’s gone.
“ Okey ka lang? ‘Nga
pala parang may naiwan siya na mga papel sa taas.. nakasuksok sa kama yun… baka
kailangan mo yun, kunin mo na lang sa taas”
Immediately I went
upstairs and found two papers that were neatly bound.
First bound, was
over 400 pages, it was the final draft of her Master’s degree thesis. In the
first page was a dedication that says.
Every event
that has taken place in this universe has led me to you. Every star exploded,
every planet colliding, every molecule combining, every quantum occurrence,
every life that arises, every adaptation, every evolution of every species,
every birth, every death, every thought, every realization, and every action
taken by anyone who has ever lived. You are the perfect reading. You have shown
me that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses.
Thank you Remington
Banez
The second bound
has 50 worn pages. It is the readings of our first report in SP 201. Sifting
through the pages, I found the untidy scribble that says
I came to see you again. One last time.
My eyes started to
well up in tears. She loved me.
Ⓖ ♣
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Giadre is a free-spirited writer who loves music and coffee. Currently, she is mentally dating a fictional character who doesn't exist. |