Someday, I'll Find My Way Home

Axel wishes he doesn't exist.

There are times when I wish I didn't exist at all, then come back at a later date or time. And, there are also times when I wish I was there when I wasn't. It's a universal thing of regret and longing for the times that I could've done but I didn't and the times I could've prevented from happening if I was thinking clearly. And trust me, my body acts more before it thinks.

I know it has been years since I graduated from college, but I still find myself visiting my old university from time to time. It was a spontaneous thing--something that happens frequently these days. I went to the gasoline station after work to pump up my pickup truck, and the next thing I knew I was taking a different road to home. And then, I drove to the expressway, and when Harry Styles' Fine Line entered its third loop, I was home. Or at least, my previous home.

This is one of those times I wish I could've thought of this further before jumping into action. It wasn't like the old times when I could crash to my friend's apartment and sleep. Now, I had no connections to anyone nor I was familiar of the changes around the university.

We moved on--or they did--and had new lives after graduation. I felt nothing new, except for the bustle of the Metro and the hustle of the workplace. I was one of the privileged because I never needed to work in the first place, but I told myself to make use of the diploma I earned. And my job felt like a shortcut in the road as well. But that's for another story.

I reminded myself of the places around UP Los Banos. I parked my car at Centtro Mall and walked my way around the seemingly quiet street of Grove, bringing my gym bag with me because it had my spare clothes and mouthwash.

It was 9PM of a Wednesday, and it seemed weird to not see students walking around with their peers after dinner. Maybe they were hanging out later than usual?

I walked towards Selinas, one of my favorite restaurants near the university, and reminded myself of how it smells like home-cooked meals and leave with it. The tables are packed and the noise was somewhat comforting, as if five years hadn't passed. It felt normal, which relieved me, as long as I have something that stayed and never changed.

Selinas felt as if I could see myself eating with someone on the far end of the restaurant, near the counter, as we share a bowl of Sinigang na Baboy together because we were both broke at that time. The walls were filled more with the picture frames with 2x2 pictures of their customers. Somewhere, I knew my picture was there next to that someone.

As long as it stays the same, I am sane.

I saw the new Mernel's, famous of their chocolate cakes. I never liked their cakes, but their Chocolate-Yema cake was an exception. The store is closed, unfortunately. The glass walls were graduation-themed, with cut-outs of toga and confetti and the words Congratulations Batch 2021!

Moving forward.

The corner of F.O. Santos was bustling with students who were buying alcoholic drinks from the right store, and buying cigarettes from the left store. I never knew the names of these stores but I knew their main function. Ah, the memories. I walked past the students buying and smoking cigarettes.

I asked the landlady of the apartment in between G-Spot and Minute Burger if they had rooms for transient, and it turns out they have one! A lucky night for me. It was a dormitory with four floors. In front of the apartment was a Goldilocks shop and two floors of a coffee shop named Productivity Cafe.

I walked to the third floor and opened an empty room with two double-decks. For such a cheap rate, this wasn't so bad.

I dropped my gym bag, brought the keys to the room, and went out again.

I stopped myself in front of the apartment complex and checked my phone for messages. I ignored the texts from my family and co-workers. I went online and chatted to my friends that I was in the university. Before turning off my mobile data, I looked up to check the cafe again.

I froze. I almost dropped my phone, but I managed to catch it before falling. Without my brain thinking once again, my feet went on its own and walked towards the stairs, and inside the cafe.

The guy didn't look back, as if entranced in his laptop and music out his earphones. But some people do once the bell chimed when I entered. And a few even took a couple more glances. I didn't mind them and went straight to the counter.

They handed me the menu and ordered the first thing I knew I would eat--Spamsilog, and they gave me the password for the WiFi. I took a picture of it and seated on the high stools near the wall.

I could see him. I traced back my actions for this day and asked myself, why do I keep on doing things that torture me? And he was the answer. I looked at the way he focuses himself on the laptop and never minding other people. He sits quietly while sipping his cup of coffee. Even the way he types was never disturbing.

He wore a familiar jacket--a maroon jacket with a gold zipper. I couldn't help myself but to jump to conclusions, but I knew it was mine.

I removed my black jacket and placed it on my lap. I loosened my tie and unbuttoned the first button on my polo. I opened my phone and snapped a photo of him, even if his back is facing, just to remind me that I saw him again tonight.

I wasn't even paying attention to my food. I felt--no, I am--a stalker watching him and it makes me happy. But even this made me more confused. Why do this make me happy? Why does seeing him make me happy again?

I am lost for answers. It seemed like he was the right answer, but I reminded myself--people were never the answer to my personal problems.

A few minutes passed by and he fixed his bag below him. I turned my back and focused on my phone. I tapped my feet faster as I tried to keep myself busy. The last thing I would want is for him to go to the comfort room in front of me.

Luckily, he didn't. He carried his bag and went out of the cafe.

I don't know what I'm doing. I gulped my food as fast as I could and exited the cafe as well. The only good thing that I did here was to think: what was I supposed to do? Doing these things were not the right answer.

So I stopped in front of the apartment complex and thought--what should I do?

Right. Walk in Freedom Park. That's a step forward for me.

I forgot to check where he was headed. But I walked forward while walking and chatting with my friends on Messenger.

When I looked to the road, I saw a guy in a maroon jacket standing still in the intersection of the street, looking at me puzzled. His eyebrows were knitted together, but he still looked like the friend I knew way back. 

His look tell everything that I kept on escaping. I wasn't supposed to be here, and I should not exist anymore.

I wish it too. I wish I didn't exist at that time.