Dear friend,
Well, I guess, I have to stick with this format until I create another blog. Just to say, I was reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince and I was on the part where they were (Dumbledore and Harry) discussing about the Horcruxes so that explains the title.
I haven't taken a bath and was, in my own perception, in the mood not to talk or entertain any guests as I usually do these past few weeks. I was, as I have mentioned, very busy wracking my eyes to read the book and concentrating every single bit of my soul to keep track of the story. Although occasionally snatching my phone from the side table at my right to check if someone remembers me. This is what I hate about summer, it's like all your friends have their own world without you. But it doesn't matter, I say, I can see them in no time. Anyway there is... never mind.
I imagined my face: eyebrows are glued end-to-end; few drops of sweat on my nape and at the side of my face where muttonchops usually place themselves; eyeballs hovering relentlessly over the pages of the book; ears hearing nothing except the soft rustling of my turning the page; nose... well, I found no use for my nose as of that moment.
Believe me, I can almost bury myself deep within it and may even have the luck to see its spine. Then, as I was so engaged in my pleasurable pastime, I heard a distant voice of a girl calling some five miles away. Or at least that's how I assume the distance.
My mum went out to check and went back inside and talked to me. She said, in a state of wondering who might it be, "May naghahanap sa'yo sa labas."
My heart sank. I was literally gaping at my mum as if she's telling me something so stupid I just can't believe my ears. Who can that be... I was so nervous and I don't have the business to tell you why. Well, okay, let me tell you. I have this friend of mine who somehow wanted to see me and I accepted the invite but cancelled it eventually because I remembered we were bound to go to our province. Then I had known that our trip to our province was also cancelled and I never bothered to press on with my friend's hanging-out invite. So I was worrying, what if that person is the friend I'm talking about and that person found out I was here and that person would freak out, curse me, and would tell me I'm a popped-up liar-in-the-making? This was the worst feeling for this day.
I continued gaping at my mum and asked her, fear creeping through me, "Sino raw?" I only had speculations but was never sure if one of it was correct.
As if expecting this question, she continued to stare at me and replied, "Hindi ko kilala eh..."
All my blood seemed to have dried out and my brain was stifling. Who the ruddy hell will visit me, cut out my 'pleasurable pastime', and never mention a word of his/her visit?
I reluctantly stood up, desperately thinking how I look like. I have no time to look at the mirror so I simply put my hand on my mouth, I'm really wondering. I know I look stupid, like I haven't been touched by the sun for months. Hair tied in a ponytail, headband put on (because I don't like a single strand dangling), my clothes, too! I swear if we weren't Muggles and we study in a school called Hogwarts, you'd mistaken me for a house-elf.
I opened the screen door and saw to my disbelief; a girl in white shirt, almost-faded jeans which, by the look of it, was made from a cloth softer than the usual type you use for typical trousers, shoes that looks like boots in a nice way, made from --er--from what looks like black velvet cloth and a black, leather body bag the size of 5/6 short bond paper. I measured it just now.
I gawked at her for a moment, not sure who she was, but nevertheless made an exclamation of certainty. "Oh!" Then I smiled, I think I was right. "Uy! Haha!"
She was standing in a position where you could think she wanted a fight: chin held high in a side view, bangs in the left side of her forehead almost covering her left eye. She smiled and said, "Uy, bakit?"
I continued my pretension of knowing who she was one-hundred percent while having my mouth stretched ear-to-ear in a wide smile. "Uy! Oh my gosh. Ikaw yan?" I said it with a tone of disbelief plus amazement plus uncertainty.
She continued to smile, this time wider. "Uy bakit?"
I was almost laughing because it was my usual reaction, you know, when I meet people I know... or seemed to know in this occasion. Then reality came back from nowhere: what if she isn't who I thought she was? Oh my gosh, this is incredulous! The fact lives... I need to do something to know she really is who I thought she is.
I suppressed a laugh to make it more comical and so she can't notice I'm unsure of her personality, and said, "Wait. Haha. Oh my gosh. Ikaw ba yan? Sherween?"
The smile never left her face and then she nodded. I'm safe. My soul almost went mental.
I led her inside our house and regretted not cleaning it now. We talked about random things. Where she lives, where she studies, people we know who don't remember her anymore... everything we can talk about! It's a grand feeling to have someone back after long years. But the truth remains that we grew up differently from each other. Well, as I've observed, it wasn't a hindrance at all. It's just that I felt saying, "this awkward moment when you meet someone from your past unexpectedly".
How do I put it? I really missed her but as I have known myself, I don't enjoy talking in long conversations then and now having short pauses to think about what to say next.
Imagine, she and her family moved out when we were still on the fourth grade and suddenly, after seven long years, here she is at our front door without any say-so. It was awkward, really. But still, I enjoyed talking about the memories and the stupid things we did. If I could write a book about it, I definitely would. Unfortunately, I don't have the flair for writing so it won't do us any good.
Sherween was my bestfriend since birth. As in we grew up together and our houses were like ten steps away from each other. When we were just kids, we go to each other's house and dawdle the hell outta our lives. We even had a picture of us holding hands with only our underwear as an under garment.
After class, we don't go straight to our houses, instead, tell the school bus driver to drop us at the end of our street. We will then take out our left foods or rather "saved" foods (sometimes we don't eat our snacks) and play as if we're cooking them and eat it afterwards or else sneak through our kitchens and smuggle foods. Can you believe that? Once in our lives, we're inseparable.
I remembered the first time I didn't go home until the sky turned dark. It was on our second grade. Sherween's mom, Tita Rowena, had her flower business somewhere in Pasig and that time, they were supposed to visit the place. Sherween told her mum to bring me along and of course, I was a child and haven't thought of the consequences. Tita Wena asked if it would be alright for my mum. Well, I thought it would be since their a family friend so I hopped in and they told me to call home after we proceed to their relative's shelter after the business adventure.
We visited the shop and I thought to myself when I grow up, I want someone to give me a place full of flowers. A place, I say, not a bouquet. See how demanding I am? See now, I don't want guys to give me a bouquet, it's a waste of money. To date, there were (I think) two or three boys who gave me a bouquet and I never appreciated it. Well, I act as if but I never really did. It wasn't a practical move for me. They pick those flowers just to give them to me and what will I do to them if they withered? Throw them, right? So they left me with the guilt. But it wasn't what we were talking about a few moments ago.
After going to the place full of flowers, we proceeded to their relative's house for some dinner (there was a celebration that time) and they reminded me to call home so my parents won't be worried sick.
I do called them but the operator kept saying that the number I dialed blahblahblah. Tita Wena asked if we changed our number then I stared at the floor for a few seconds, trying to remember... Oh yes, unfortunately we had. And I can't remember what our recent number was at that time. So no other way...
I reached home at nine o'clock finding no one but my grandmother. She told me that my parents went looking for me and to tell you honestly, I don't know where they had looked for me.
I was so scared they might punish me or shout at me... so I feigned sleep.
Well, it's a story of stupidity, anyway. We never talked about what happened ever again.
Back in our house, I found it quite amusing that she has been exerting effort to communicate with me, because I was never the type to chase people (though sometimes I tend to). Anyway, I counted the years we were apart... it was seven. That's another explanation for the title.
I don't know what else to say. Oh, I remembered, she looks different from what I remembered of her. Really different. I guess, seven years of separation is a big change... well at least we can still talk to each other and laugh about things, though.
(R) Is this long? Curse me.
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