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For Ron Ryan Reyes I was waiting for summer to arrive, even though it
was only the second week of June and I had kissed summer goodbye only a
fortnight ago. Standing on the third floor balcony of St. Bede Hall, I stared
at the dark, gray clouds hovering above. In my mind, the threatening nimbus
clouds transformed themselves into the dazzling white cumulus clouds of
summer. I envisioned these summer clouds taking the forms of ocean waves
crashing on the sand, of grass blades swaying in the wind, of lovers walking
side by side. “Soon it will be summer,” I whispered to the wind,
“And I can reminisce of love once more.” Those words had barely left my lips when the thunder
roared, mocking me for my wishful thinking. Suddenly, the rain fell and I
extended my hand to catch a few drops. In less than a minute, my palm held a
puddle of rainwater, and I could see my reflection on it being distorted by
the continuous falling rain. * * * In my dreams, I would always see the two of us
walking on the beach at night. There is no moon, and its absence increased
the multitude of stars that illuminated the evening summer sky. We would sit
on the damp sand and try to trace out constellations without any success. When words and laughter cease to pass between the
two of us, we would surrender to the sounds of nature – the ceaseless rolling
of the waves, the endless swaying of the grass blades. Upon seeing the first
shooting star, we would close our eyes and whisper our wishes. A few more
minutes of silence would elapse and we would start walking side by side once
more. * * * “Is everything all right?” I turned to face Mia, my girlfriend for the past
three years. She, of shoulder-length hair and cute dimples, was caressing my
hair with her dainty fingers. There was a look of concern etched on her face. “What do you mean?” I asked her. She stopped caressing my hair and stared at the
tiled floor of the gazebo. “I’m not sure myself,” she replied with a sigh,
“Since you came back from Boracay you’ve been a different person. It’s like I
don’t know you anymore.” She said those words with such sadness that I was
moved to put my arm around her. “Mia,” I told her, “I’m still me.” She looked deeply into my eyes, as if searching for
the “me” she wanted so badly. I stared back into her eyes, unable to say
anything for a moment. I wanted to tell her the truth, but the words failed
to form in my mouth. Tentatively, I reached for her hand. “I love you, Paolo,” she said, resting her head on
my chest. I stroked her hair and hummed our song. But in my
mind, all I could hear were the sounds of ocean waves crashing on the sand,
of grass blades swaying in the wind, of lovers walking side by side. * * * The sunset always looks beautiful when seen from the
seashore. Like a melting red candle in a jar of honey, the sunset bursts into
a kaleidoscope of colors, transforming the blue summer sky into a fiery red
canvass emblazoned with tints of luminous orange that eventually mellows down
into shades of cool purple and blue. The spectacle is reflected a hundred
times on the heaving sea, which distorts it and tries to create a masterpiece
of its own. The waves desperately try to bring the palette of colors to the
seemingly endless stretch of white sand to no avail. My afternoon ritual in Boracay that summer consisted
of retreating to an isolated part of the beach, and trying to preserve the
spectacle on film with my camera. When I felt I had exposed enough frames, I
would sit on a big gray rock on the beach and silently watch the powerful sun
slowly being engulfed by the wide open sea. * * * On the third day of my summer vacation, I decided to
stay on the beach longer than usual. The sun had barely set when the first
star appeared in the darkening sky. I immediately closed my eyes and
whispered a wish. “Are you aware that we’re all connected somehow, in
one way or another?” I opened my eyes and turned around to see who had
spoken. Standing at the foot of the big gray rock, clutching a black guitar,
was my cousin, Rene. Though we’ve known each other since we were children,
our conversations have never gone further than the customary “Hello” and
“Goodbye.” There was always an air of unease whenever we meet, as if we don’t
know what to say though we really want to talk with each other. “I don’t know what you mean,” I replied. He breathed in deeply. “We inhale billions of atoms
with each breath,” he explained, “And in each breath, we inhale billions of
atoms exhaled by every person since the beginning of time. Imagine;
circulating in our bodies are atoms exhaled by every person who ever lived on
this planet. And the billions of atoms we exhale now become part of a person
who is yet to be born.” “From what philosophy book did that come from?” He smiled and replied, “Conceptual Physics by Paul G. Hewitt.” “You read that in a physics book?” I asked in
disbelief, then added with a smile, “The only thing I can recall about
physics was the law of gravity.” He laughed at what I said. I watched the
colorless ocean waves as they crashed on the sand, pondering on what he just
said. “Breathing – it’s like making love then,” I said, “The only difference
is that there is no exchange of body fluids, but of atoms instead.” “Yes,” he replied, then added with a naughty grin,
“And just like we can’t live without breathing, so can’t we live without
making love.” I gave a soft chuckle and returned my gaze to the
moonless evening sky. I breathed in deeply as I absorbed each and every word
he said. In the silence that ensued, I could only hear myself breathing
deeply amidst the sounds of ocean waves crashing on the sand, of grass blades
swaying in the wind. It was he who finally broke the silence between us.
“Tell me something about Mia.” * * * I have never known anybody who loves me as much as
Mia does. Every thirty minutes she would send a text message with the words
“I love you!” She would patiently wait for me by the lobby until six, even
though her classes had ended by three. I never had a wound that she didn’t
kiss to ease the pain, or a fever that she didn’t cure with her warm
embraces. A day would not pass by without her saying, “I love you.” The last time I told her that was on the day I
arrived in Boracay. * * * Rene and I spent the rest of the evening till
daybreak discussing a wide range of topics, from pre-colonial Filipino
mythology to contemporary nihilism. It was rare for me to find someone who
belonged to the same intellectual sphere as I did, and I took advantage of
the situation to express the ideas that rested in the deep recesses of my
mind. We were unaware that the night had ended until Rene opened the windows. “Look,” Rene said, pointing to the rising sun, “A
new day has begun and here we are still clinging to the remnants of the past
evening.” He raised his bottle of beer and offered a toast to the new
morning. I did the same and we silently finished our drinks. At that exact moment, Karlo, his brother, walked in.
He handed me his cell phone and left the room without a word. Against the
bright white backlight, I could see the name “Mia” flashing frenziedly. I turned away from Rene, cleared my throat and
pressed the “answer” button. “Hello?” “Good morning,” Mia greeted me enthusiastically.
Then, in a softer tone, she said, “I miss you.” “I miss you, too.” Somehow, I couldn’t prevent my
voice from sounding mechanical. “I’ve been calling you for the past three days, but
your phone’s always turned off.” “Sorry. I forgot to recharge my phone,” I lied. There was a momentary pause as we both groped for
words to say to each other. The past three days we haven’t heard from each
other seemed like three years. “How are you?” she finally asked. “Pretty okay,” I replied, “I was out on the beach
last night with Rene.” “Rene?” “My cousin,” I replied. Then, I recounted to Mia all
the wonderful things Rene and I talked of last night. “After talking with
him, I realized how important breathing was…physically and emotionally,” I
told Mia, “The air I breathe in is the same air that he breathes, that you
breathe. And each time we breathe, we unconsciously take in a part of each
other.” There was a long pause before she said, “Okay.”
Another long pause followed, as I waited for her to support my statements, or
even refute them, but she never said anything else except, “I love you.” I struggled to say the same thing to her, but all I
could say was, “I know.” I made up an excuse that Karlo’s phone was on low
battery, and promised to call her back within the day. Ending the
conversation, I felt a wave of intense sadness overwhelming me. The past
three years I shared with Mia suddenly seemed hollow and meaningless. I tried
to remember the euphoria I felt when I fell in love with her, but I failed to
recapture it. Absorbed
in my musings, I barely heard the soft strains of a popular French song being
played on Rene’s guitar. The poignant music was sweetly accompanied by the
rhythm of the ocean waves crashing on the sand and the melody of the grass
blades swaying in the wind. I looked at Rene and saw his sympathetic eyes
staring back at me. No conversation took place between us, but I know we
understood each other. * * * I
closed my eyes and started to breathe in deeply. Breathe…so the two of us
will merge into one body, one soul. In each inhalation, the air explores our
bodies – circulating through our systems, giving life to each cell, fanning
the flames of our innermost desires, soothing the pain of past failures and
heartaches. In each exhalation, we breathe out the wishes we can never put in
words, the hurt we can never release through tears. And as we breathe in
again, we partake of each other’s silent desires and silent pain. If
we can only have the air for the two of us, then we will never have to share
ourselves with anybody else. * * * “Paolo!” I took a final shot of the sunset before facing
Rene. He was running towards me, tugging along a beautiful, fair-skinned
woman with waist-length hair. When they reached me, they were both breathing
heavily from running and laughing. Rene immediately placed his arm around my shoulder
and introduced me to the woman. “Elena, this is Paolo, my cousin.” I extended my hand and Elena shook it. “It’s nice to
meet you, Paolo.” I smiled at her. “Same here.” Paolo went to Elena’s side and held her by the
waist. “Paolo, this is Elena,” he said. Then, looking into her eyes, he
added, “The woman I love.” The smile on my face froze. I tried to say something
nice but I choked on my words. It was as if my whole being was caught in a
violent maelstrom of disbelief, confusion and pain. “I met her at the grill during lunch,” he explained
enthusiastically, “She’s also a Music student. You should hear her play the
piano, Paolo.” Then looking at her once more, he said, “I had never heard
such beautiful music.” He leaned forward and they shared a sweet kiss. I wanted to leave, but an unknown force rendered my
limbs immobile. I turned my head and faced the sunset instead, wishing it
were I who was being engulfed by the sea. “I have to go back,” Elena told Rene after the kiss,
“I’ll just get my shawl. It’s getting chilly out here.” She planted a kiss on
Rene’s cheek and waved at me before returning to her hotel. We both watched
her walk away from us till we could not see her anymore. Rene smiled at me and knelt on the sand. With his
forefinger, he traced a heart on the wet sand, and inside he wrote “RENE
LOVES ELENA.” At that moment, I wanted to be the tide and race towards the
seashore to erase each and every word that he wrote. “You must love her so much,” I finally said. He looked at me, and in his eyes, I saw the fire of
love so intense it burned through me. “Yes, I love Elena. I love her very much.” I knelt beside him and traced a heart much bigger
than his. Inside I wrote “PAOLO LOVES ARLENE.” “I thought your girlfriend’s name was Mia.” I nodded in reply. “Then who’s Arlene?” I stared at the heart I drew. “Arlene…is someone
very special to me.” He stood up and asked, “Tell me, who do you really
love?” I could not answer his question. I stared
into his eyes and tried to say the truth, but nothing came out from my lips.
The only sounds we could hear were the ocean waves crashing on the sand and
the grass blades swaying in the wind. “Rene!” We turned around and saw Elena waving at us. Rene
smiled and waved back at her. “I have to go,” he told me. I waved him goodbye and watched him run towards
Elena. He lifted her in the air, and kissed her on the lips. I watched them
walk away side by side until they turned into hazy silhouettes on the sea of
sand. I shifted my gaze to the ocean waves. The setting
sun was but a sliver of golden red light on the horizon. It could not radiate
enough warmth to keep the cold from shrouding my entire body. Once more, I
looked at the heart I drew, focusing my gaze on the name “Arlene.” “I love you.” Slowly, I smoothed the sand to erase the A and the
L, and I softly whispered the name of the only person I truly loved. * * * The day I left Boracay, it was raining. I could
still hear the ocean waves crashing against the sand, the grass blades
swaying against the wind, but the sound of lovers walking side by side on the
pristine white sand had ceased. I tilted my head to face the sky, feeling the
raindrops mix with the steady flow of my tears. In the coolness of the rain
on the empty beach, the days of summer had finally ended. Published in The Sunday Times
Magazine (April 13, 2003) |
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The Days
of Summer |
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Pagod na ang pusong laging sinasaktan. |
