One of my nicest memories was when I was four. My mom prepared my favorite snack, which was orange juice and ketchup filled pandesal. I took my snack in my little bag and went off to the field. I sat against a haystack and started munching away the pandesal as I watched my brother fly his kite. I don’t remember much about my childhood. There were too many sad things.
But I remember this one. I remember it as if I was still there, burning my skin with the afternoon sun, the taste of pandesal and ketchup on my tongue, the sound of hay whenever I moved my legs, the sound of other kids playing nearby, the soft breeze. And how happy I was. Just happy.
The last time I felt close to that was some time after Christmas of 2005. it must be around January because I remember we just had the sofa. It was one of those lazy afternoons and we were watching TV. I remember he was wearing my “El paso hothothot” shirt that made his tummy bulge. I looked at him and well, at that time, he still looked back at me, and we hugged. You know those hugs that go on forever? Those hugs that just feels right, no one bothers to let go? it was one of those. And I remember thinking I could die here. Right now. right here. In his arms. I was just so happy. so real. so home.
well, even that one didn’t last.
life is so predictable.
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