sta. rita

last night, my friend, Rowell, came over.
it was a timely reunion, as we missed each other very much.
we took turns regaling the happenings over the last month.
we took turns crying.
and laughing.
and watching each other cry.
and just, basically, witnessing.
my heart opened a bit wider.
we cooked dinner like we do.
and inevitably, our dinner conversation flowed into the familiar territory of what we would do if we won the lottery.
we both laugh when we find ourselves there.
and relish our fantastic ideas of travel, business ventures, studies abroad.
where will we build our houses?
it's fun to name what we would buy each other.
i am reminded what a good friend he is and how grateful i am that he invited me to live here in his hometown of sta. rita.
he was born and bred here.
and he lives around the corner, and down the street.
when we walk down the streets together, he makes bati almost every ten steps.
i had a chance meeting with Lea Solonga in LAX this past december.
we had the same flight from manila.
she graciously gave me two autographs.
one for Olive, aka Mady, my pamangkin.
the other, for Rowell.
i told her that he was also a performer.
he loved the autograph.
i wish you could have seen the smile on his face.
Rowell and i sing to each other.
and sing together.
sometimes The Carpenters.
sometimes Wicked.
one time, as we rode bikes around and around Prado.
always laughing.
i played and sang Nathanel's song for him last night.
i'm not shy to play for him anymore.
it's only fair, as he is always singing for me.
he really does have an amazing voice.
i make song requests, and he sings them.
after dinner, i started cleaning up.
he fell asleep, as he often does.
he does too much.
running around from racket to racket.
and helping with the church.
i remember when he was studying for his teaching board exam.
i was a coach of sorts.
well, whipcracker, you might say.
for a week straight, we studied.
and i'll never forget attending his ArtiSta Rita performance the night before his exam.
and driving him to manila at 3am so that he could take it.
(he passed, btw.)
he left this morning at 4:15am.
the church bells woke me up for 5am mass, and i remembered him saying, "friend, i have to go," as he kissed my forehead.
i sleepily nodded, and heard the front door close gently behind him.
it was still dark out.
when i go back to the states, perhaps it is spending time with my friend, Rowell, that i will miss the most.