Once upon a time...

I was to be married to this girl once in my first year at college. I tried to get out of it (by jumping from the 2nd floor of the Kalayaan dormitory), but decided I wasn't ready to lose my soccer legs just yet. How bad can it be? It's not like these high school antics could be the death of me. So I went out of the room I trapped myself in and then we were married, and there was an actual certificate too (but I didn't sign it with my real signature- I figured that little trick would help me on the annulment, haha). I guess it's true too what they say about girls and married men, coz then I got a few notes from the girls on the other wing telling me I was stupid to agree to get married (girls relax, I'd have the annulment papers done before you know it ;p). All kidding aside, that's not really the point of the story...

Bel and I actually became friends, even before the "wedding". She was sort of one of those people that most people would handle with "special" gloves. Hmmm, I realize it's hard to tell this story the way it is suppose to be told simply because I am quite a different individual to who I was 7 years ago, and I can't seem to get the "writing voice" right (that tends to be a problem when you’re a schizo). But I'll try to tell it in simple honest terms, although most of you will just think I'm just being my evil judgmental current self. Anyhow, as I was saying, Bel was... challenging. She was nice and easy to talk to, but we had different values systems and she was rather particularly hooked on the topic of relationships and sex. Some would even probably call her mababaw. Though it was of no particular difficulty to me to talk about those things even at those times, I was cautious as to where it would lead (and don't worry, that's not where the story is going). She wasn't really shallow though. Back in those days, I really made an effort to try and make sense of people, and usually it would pay off. She shared with me her problems (not just the ones on relationships), and they were real ones. I mean we're talking about messed up level problems here. I wasn't and couldn't be in a position to judge her. I figured, she like many other people with messed up lives just ended up looking to relationships and sex as a solution of sorts to their woes.

When formal dinner came, I naturally went stag (the cool term for dateless men at parties). When the program proper was over, and when everyone had had their fill from the buffet table, everyone went with their dates or pals and did their thing (some went to dark corners and most went to the dance floor). Bel found me and we ended up together for most of the night. To be quite honest, there was a part of me that really didn't want to hang around her, especially on a night like that, since I would have enjoyed so much more just feeling lonely in some corner. Really. And though she made it known that she was "interested" in me, there was a big part of me that was determined to be her friend, even on a night like that. We talked a great deal, and it took a lot of my skills and abilities just to keep the conversation in a level that would be more "helpful" to her. I didn't even really care when a few people were giving us odd looks. My memory fails me now as to how we parted ways that night, but I think I was called to do my duties as the dorm photographer.

Eventually, we sort of lost touch over time. A year ago, or maybe just a few months back, I got a message from her. She's a single mother now and tells me she's back in UP. Though the message isn't long, she tells me of remembering that night of the formal dinner, and the things I told her and how they've always stuck to her and how it's helped her. She asks how I've been and if we could meet up sometime, the usual stuff.

I haven't given her a reply, and it is unlikely that I will. A confirmation to myself that indeed I am not the same guy as before, not the same guy she is thankful to. I'm not really sure what the point of this story is. Maybe what I'm trying to say is that people change, and it's so hard to change back. Or maybe, some of the little things we tried to do for other people back then, weren't so little after all. And this time around, she is the one being a friend to me, reminding me of someone who was and maybe, just maybe...can still be.

....

"If one is estranged from oneself, then one is estranged from others too. If one is out of touch with oneself, then one cannot touch others." - Anne Morrow Lindbergh