It was 2:00 in the morning, I left Jim, Mica, Migs, Jico and Mang Mike drinking. I lit a stick and walked by the beach. The view from the shore was pitch-black. From where I was standing, I could hear the group’s boisterous laughter jiving with the sound of the waves hitting the shore. Nonetheless, the sky that night was peaceful.
I decided to sit beside a small tree trunk that used to be a part of a bonfire, and survived the flames. I wanted to lie on the sand to get a better view of the sky, but I opted not to. I just sat there and began breathing, puffing my almost finished stick.
I told myself, “this is where it ends”, out of the blue. The waves reminded me of the simpler life I used to have, where everything was easy, and life was very beautiful. Another voice inside my head replied, “this is me all grown up!”. I frowned and finished my stick.
I saw an old hut from a distance. The place was well-lit by a gas lamp sitting peacefully on top of a table. Their window was wide open so I was able to see clearly what was inside the house. Sitting in tranquility, I saw the humble hut as a metaphor of how life should have been, in this case, for myself. The hut’s windows were opened as if nothing evil could occur that night.
The house was boasting its shabby interior even with the queer eye of the tourists all judgmental. I wish I could be as humble and proud and as perfect as the hut altogether.
A shooting star. I closed my eyes and made a wish.
The group gave away another round of laughter. I wasn’t jealous at all. I knew having a conversation with myself would be more appropriate. For the longest time, I have been away from myself. I was always divided among the people around me, my band, my friends, my family, school, organizations. I pity myself for not having made a special time for myself earlier.
Things wouldn’t have gotten this far. I am certain I went far.
I took me a while before I finally found myself again, all contained and exhausted. For the very first time, I felt tired. In silence, I found peace.
A dog passed by and sat a meter away from me. Like me, he seemed tired from walking. The both of us remained dumbfounded by the wonderful display of stars above.
Another shooting star. I let the dog wish on this one.
Mica called me and asked if I were doing okay. I smiled and honestly said “yes”. After a short walk by the beach, we returned to the table and picked up from where we left off. I saw a plate of bagnet ( a Vigan dish- deep fried pork) on the table all lonely. I remembered the dog staring at it earlier at dinner. I called him and gave him all the bagnet he wanted.
At least one of us got what we wished for. I’m still keeping my fingers crossed with mine.
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