Wrong Person, Write Love.

Prose 012: 'The Sound of Farewell'

***

And someday, you may go to our favorite meeting place and no longer find me waiting for you there. So don't. It's okay if you forget about me.

- Aries

***

Earlier, I went to the place where I remember you the most.

I was hesitant at first, but even though I was not yet done mentally arguing with myself why I should go, I still found myself a lot closer to the past I tried so hard to get out of my mind.

As soon as I walked past the entrance, I didn't smell the sweet familiar scent of sampaguita flowers usually sold on the sides of the always busy street. Right, I remembered, people are still not supposed to roam around, even to sell, until now.

Needless to say, though I still will, only few people are here. But even though that's the case, I still know deep inside me that with every step that I take, I was hoping that I'd see a familiar face I used to look for every time I go here.

But that's an impossibility, I know that very well. You would never be here-- one, because you're so far away and second, you only went here before because this is where I want to go.

Just as I reached the circular mossy stone brick surrounding the one-hundred and ten-year-old acacia tree in the middle of the courtyard, I can't help it but smile.

We used to sit under its shade every after class, talking about life and most often than not, playing with street children who we always share street foods with. I can still remember how amazed you look back then, right when I told you that a former Philippine President used to climb and play on that same tree.

Its trunk were huge and dark, and I've always loved how its leaves fall every start of August and its succeeding months. I even caught one fallen leaf when we were together once, and I still have it on my treasure box up until now.

That was one of the moments, I admit, that I've always wanted to relive if I ever had the chance to do so. It felt so simple and dear to me-- and I wish I was able to tell you how thankful I am to you for bringing me closer to Him.

You were a great guy, I hope you know that, and I never prayed for anything else in the world as much as I prayed for your happiness-- even this morning, as I kneeled in front of Him, I still do.

Only God knows how much I loved you.

As soon as I finished talking to Him, I stood up and turned around facing the church's wooden door.

Just like that beautiful summer morning two years ago, you were standing there, looking so happy while holding your guitar case in one hand and the strap of you backpack on your shoulder with the other.

That is now, I remembered, the last time I ever saw your love for me clearly evident on your deep hazel eyes and boyish yet genuine smile.

I was about to approach you, but just like what always happen every time the clock strikes six both in the morning and evening, the church bell rang.

It was so nostalgic in a sense that it makes me feel like this had happened a few lifetimes ago already-- the same story with the same ending over and over again.

I blinked once only to let a single tear drop down to my cheek, and then you were gone.

The sound of the bell was so loud, yet my heart beat was even more deafening.

Perhaps, I thought as I smiled and walked away, this is really what it feels like to wake up from dreaming with your eyes open.

- Aries Writes, "The Sound of Farewell."