“I missed you, too,” he told me.

With that, the ten years between us were gone.

“Naibabalik pala ‘yung dati,” he said, with a shy smile.

But of course, it’s only an approximation of what we’ve had, and we both know it.

He’s married. And I’m gay.

It’s as if, I am awaiting you from a long journey. And I am selfish. I want to be the first to welcome you when you open your eyes.

It’s also like you’re being born again and I am your proud mother/father. One look in your eyes and we are connected, a perpetual bond is forged in between.

Or if it is me sleeping, I would like you to be the first one I see. It will be like I never left. Or have come back to home. I nestle between your chin and your chest.

Had that chance once. Some two seasons ago (because in this part of the world, there are only two). Before my father died. After I had died (but I am, right now, slowly being resurrected). When I met you for the first time.

I had that chance once. Only once.

You are awake. And I am left dreaming.

After two years I was back at her feet. This time, I swim confidently and take in the sun while I enjoy a few minutes floating.

Summer is here and I am renewed.

From the moment I saw that blue vastness, I knew I've recovered myself. There was a tiny pang of loneliness still but it quickly vanished, like the foam on the sand.

There was a sense of liberation, which, however long it took, was cherished for its coming.

I was back at her feet, but she knew it was a different person.

Last night when we left, I looked up the sky and saw the same constellations and for a minute wondered, if they would be the same constellations that P. would see. It would then be like we were looking into each other's eyes once again.

But suddenly, like epiphany, I muttered, would it matter?

I examined the black sky's vastness. What was that saying? "There are many fishes in the ocean?" The stars are as plenty as our chances of finding that one great love.

Some day, a shooting star will announce his arrival.

I wonder, if there’s magic in all of these that some things in constant, never changing.

I wonder, too, if we can, do the same with friendships, or lovers or the consequences of these relationships. Would remaining stagnant be actually better than moving it forward destructively.

What is then, the reality. Those scenes you see when your eyes are closed? Or the ones you wish your eyes are closed to.

That’s a good punctuation. A diversion. I’ll leave my personal storms behind for a while.

Or I can keep them both.