My dear, Today,
How are you today?: that I asked you so many yesterdays ago and will surely ask in the coming weeks and years. You met me back when I was that starry-eyed girl who was head over heels over another man.
He always picked me up with his expensive cars: one day, with his Ferrari, another day, with his Bugatti Veyron. There never was a day when I saw him in jeans; he preferred suits and man,those were carefully crafted just for such dazzling man!
He drove me to where menus cost an entire living and coffee mugs were of brands unheard of. Whenever it rained, we both never really cared for there was always a way not to get wet: ride the helicopter or stay in his car, coffee in hands, relaxing music touching the windows.
And then, he walked away, slowly disappearing as you marched with that broken umbrella of yours.
You brought me to noisy streets filled with people of all ugly faces and concerns. You held my hand and pulled me through that crowd as if telling me,
“There will always be annoying things and
creatures but there’s always some kind of a way
We never rode sports cars, we rode trains and buses and jeepneys and of course, we walked. We walked under both the rain and sunlight where there were never real rainbows, just some colorful hope that things are to get more hue.
You urged me to throw my bag out of the window for fun and then I saw many doors slam themselves upon my face. Dear, was it painful to hear the knob lock and forever never let me in!
You told me that the future, although most beautiful and desired, isn’t here yet.
At that moment, as the wind blew gently through my hair, you held my hand and I looked at that face of yours.
But I’m some kind of a rebel, I breathe with a heart that is still in love with another man.
The future. The future.
I still wait for him.
And I terribly hate your face!