Maine
In 2012, the World Health Organization released the Philippines' standing in terms of suicide rate. It is noted that out of the 170 or so countries, the Philippines is ranked at 150 with an average of 2.9 suicide deaths for every 100,000 people.
I don't want to be a statistic in that report.
The rooftop of the condominium I lived in housed a rarely used swimming pool and a stunning view of the city skyline. Very few people come in here, quite possibly because everyone who lived in the damn building had their lives revolving around work and nothing else. That leaves me to be alone in this place–on a rooftop so high up that it felt like it was another world.
I haven't thought of the darkness in a while. It was quite freeing, if you ask me, but there were other things in my mind that constantly makes itself known, like a memory that refuses to be forgotten. On cold, rainy mornings, my mind goes back to that rickety old table in the coffee shop with a pair of brown eyes looking intently at me.
I miss him. It was plain and simple–I miss him.
He still sends me messages. I replied to him once, but he never replied back and I figured he must be trying his best to save himself from me. I mean, I would totally do that, if you know what I mean.
The night is cold and it's windy up here even if it's only five in the afternoon. There are bars on the ledge of the condominium rooftop and I briefly wonder how many people have considered jumping from here? I thought of it before, but nowadays, I'm only thinking of what better thing to do for the next day.
"Ang ganda ng view, di ba?"
I spin around at the sound of the voice, my mouth hanging open in surprise when I find out who it is. Alden smiled as he walked towards me.
"H-hi," I stutter though a two-letter word as I look up to stare at him. "Hi?"
"Bakit ka nasa rooftop?"
"Um... mahangin."
He chortles in delight. "Oo nga naman."
"You're back," I tell him and he moves closer to my space. "Um... it's nice you're back."
"Na-miss din kita," Alden says and I knew he was talking about the last message I sent. "I'm sorry."
"Di mo kelangan mag-sorry."
He slips his arms around me and I feel myself get wrapped up in his embrace. He's home. He's finally home.
Alden
I had to come home.
She was nothing like the girl I dreamed of–but I had to come home. Maine was my home.
The sun was setting, leading the day into the night. She's wrapped up in my arms and at this very moment, I'm home.
