"This is the captain speaking. Flight 972 has just been cleared for landing. Have a wonderful day in Manila, Philippines. Thank you for flying Philippine Airlines."
I unstrapped my seatbelt, grabbed my duffel bag from the overhead compartment and waited in line to exit the plane.
I spent the last 16 hours with my i-pod playing mostly Rascal Flatts and a few One Republic songs. These kinds of music always hit home for me plus they make excellent lullabies. I was even reading this book by Harlan Coben to tire my eyes to sleep. Obviously, I was trying to force myself to get some shut-eye throughout the whole flight, hoping it would keep me from thinking about her. But then again, my thoughts failed me.
It has been eight years since I last saw Trish, but her memories remained. I still remember the touch of her soft, gentle hands locked into mine. The sweet scent of her perfume lingered. I often hear her raspy yet cherubic voice whispering. But what echoes the most were her two final words. "Goodbye, Tom."
The taxi's horn shook me back to reality. The cab driver helped me get my luggages in the trunk, opened the door for me and asked for the destination. I slid down the back seat and heaved a sigh. Home at last, I thought.
Coming back to the Philippines is bittersweet. I earned a three-week vacation from the firm I work in. I am currently an accountant for a private company in New York. Getting a day off from work is like asking God for a miracle. You don't really know when it will happen, but it will--as long as you deserve it and the timing is right. And now everything seemed to fall into place. After four years of being drowned with numbers and stacks of paperwork, I deserved a break. It also helped when my bestfriend Chris told me of a get-together we were having this year. This also meant I was going to see her again...The thought of us seeing again still gives me quite the rush. I don't know what to expect. I didn't know what eight years of separation has done. You see, my family migrated to the United States six years ago, soon as I got my license as a CPA. It was tough adjusting to a new country. I got sick most of winter when we first moved there. Apparently, my body wasn't adapting well. But we got through it within a year. I immediately got hired by Ernst & Young--a private accounting firm in New York, New York. Everything went uphill from there. Honestly, I have more than a man could ask for--a well-paying job, wonderful family, a great life for a Filipino who's been in America for just a short span. But still, something felt missing.
Migraine sets in as I checked in to the hotel. Unfortunately, 16 hours of no sleep and traffic don't mix well for my now throbbing head. I threw my sports jacket over a black, leather ottoman, took off my Chucks and hopped on the bed. The room looked modern. I was actually impressed with the minimalist, black-and-white theme. It was awfully silent though, with the AC's soft whir filling the void. I decided to turn the TV on to keep me company. I randomly picked a channel and went back to bed.
" Can you find this star, right here?" a guy asked.
A girl replied hesitantly, "Sure. So why am I looking for this star?"
"Because I had it named for you. See? It’s official. It’s from the International Star Registry."
The girl sighed and simply said, "This is wonderful… I love you."
Those lines were vaguely familiar. I turned to face the TV and there it was. A Walk To Remember was playing on HBO. It suddenly took me back to where it started.
I was 17 and Trish was 16. We were on our fourth and final year in High School. We weren't really together together. We just always hung out. We did a lot of things together. I walked her home right after school. We had lunch everyday on "our" table. Our friends would leave the table by the window empty for us. It was an unwritten rule they thought was cute. That was our spot. We talked about anything and everything--from her little pranks to annoy her siblings to what we wanted to take up in college. Maybe that was what I liked about her. There was never a dull moment with Trish. We got real close. We started going out. " A Walk To Remember" was our first real date, if you may. It was the first time we watched a movie together. Just the two of us. No chaperones. No third, fourth or fifth wheels. Just us. A boy and a girl appreciating a wonderful story about true love. I guess you can call it a date, right? That day still felt as real as it was.
I remember how good she looked with her hair pulled back in a pony, and nothing but a simple blue shirt topped over a faded pair of jeans. Simplicity at its best. As I continued recounting that day, I noticed the final credits pulling up. The movie was over and so was my night. Insomnia wears off, replaced by an angry migraine. My eyes decided to droop. Calling it a day, I dozed off completely--leaving the TV and the lights on.
What will tomorrow be like? Will it be just like any other day for the past eight years--more memories of her?
(to be continued..)
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