I’ve never wondered why we are friends. You, on the other hand, asked me —-and I mustered a half-baked excuse of something I could not remember.
Maybe it was the crazy “cutter” days of joys that we had in high school.
How you terrified Jeffrey then. Or maybe it was the carefree attitude I had. Like how I was never really bothered by your psychotic fits (remember, how you would silently threaten anyone with anything sharp?). Or maybe, it was my shallow personality that never really needed any deep reason to laugh at anything silly no matter how corny the jokes are (not that you throw jokes anyway–but i laugh still). Or can it be the books? Aaahh! must be the books indeed! Before we got intellectual and funny with Carl Sagan and Tom Sharpe, it was harlequin romance novels then (and Fabio on the covers). When I got so hooked up, I wouldn’t leave my room and my mother thought I was into drugs. I think your mom, on the other hand, stern and strict, told you to pack it up and give it away.
That and the Sailormoon trips we indulged in after classes. Our mutual love for Mamuro Chiba was borderline nuerotic but it illuminated our path towards advocating anime galactic peace. We found our first advocacy.
Not to mention our birthdays are just one day apart. More often than not, I would always blow my birthday candles with hope that you would show up the next day to bring me chocolates you harbored from your dad’s stash of sweet bribes. More often than not, you would come and make my wish come true. And more often than not, in every visit, even after college, we’d end up sleeping all the sugar excitement off. No conversation needed. No updates of who we met, where we went, and what we were doing the months we didn’t see each other. Only giggles and present inquiries of what chocolates you bear and how you defended them from sibling theft.
Our emotional bond was a chocolate extract that put us in a poetic frenzy that produced delusions of many kinds. Which is ok. Precision was never our thing. I can’t even remember how we met! I know you’ve forgotten as well. But we both know we found the golden ball of friendship in grade three.
And now we are almost thirty.
Almost three decades of admirable patience with each other.
Three decades of disturbing adoration and trust between us.
Three decades worth of secrets shared.
Three must be our lucky number.
And now, living in different cities, I still follow your chocolate trail. I know I shall follow you to the ends of the earth and you, in turn, will stash chocolates for me, dangling it like a carrot in front of a donkey. At the ends of the earth, where we are bereft of it’s polite currency, we’d still be playing with swivel chairs, cut paper hearts, and maybe learn how to organize regattas. And at the ends of the earth, I can still imagine you laughing in brilliant blue at our unexpected successes. Except the world has no ends –but I don’t think that should be a problem.