Silver Lining

Seeing, even imagining his face, brings a certain calm to my incessantly trembling soul. It seems alien to me, this feeling. The way my heart beats steadily, rhythmic, almost without fear; the way my lips produce gibberish fluidly, in the absence of consciousness for proper syntax and grammar; the obvious softening of my voice, far from the daily shrill and staccato spat on everyday faces; how my stomach does not hesitate to devour every dish on the table, minus the pacing and the manners and the caution. Being with him feels like being locked forever in a bear hug so comfortable I would be willing to open up to slumber till eternity.

And if it smelled like anything, it would always be jasmine or rosewater or fruits and flowers. And if tasted like something, it would be warm chocolate milk on a rainy night or semi-sweet pancakes with whipped cream and fresh strawberries or melon in the early morning. He would be day and night and night and day for me, for time never really passes and the seasons rarely change. His voice would sound like the steady chirping of warbles perched on a tree branch while I curl up with a good book on a hammock on a lazy afternoon. He would stand tall and proud of every feat I accomplish and I would be behind cheering him on when he takes a step closer to achieving his dreams. I will be wearing a smile brightly for everyone to see, for I am not ashamed. He and I would be competing on who gets to have the bigger smile.

This is too strange to me; almost too good to be true. We have been on many before, but none like this. It must have been for that reason that Fate chose to place her hand on our shoulders to bathe in that much coveted warm glow. Others would have killed for it. This is probably our reward for bearing the brunt of the past 22 and 27 years despite open wounds.

We just opened our arms, closed our eyes and anticipated the great, greater, plunge. It would be a sin not to take it.

5 more days till they arrive. During which, I expect to be an entirely different person.

My family hasn't been in Manila for almost 7 years. Like the typical lot from a relatively stress-free metropolis, I expect them to be in awe of this place. I wish I could tell them over the phone that there's nothing all that interesting in this part of the archipelago. I've been living here, independently, for quite a while already and my fascination has waned to just a slight appreciation of the hustle and bustle, of the fast-tracked lifestyle.

As a child growing up in Davao City, I used to think of Metro Manila as the place to be if I want to live "the life". I added years to my age believing that I would happier here, that it offers everything I could ever dream of. It does not. Not when you're away from the people you love and would truly support you no matter how messed up your choices are.

I miss them and the concept of their arrival and of seeing them fall in love with the city they all think is so fascinating gives birth to waves of nervousness in me. You see, the way I act here is polar to how I am when I visit home. It's the thought of having to change my ways, my language, my manner of walking, my usually blunt comments whenever I'm around them that spells unfamiliar territory. I will be in a city all too familiar to me, that which molded me into the gung-ho type; yet I have to act as if I was still same upright angel they thought I still am. And so I have to prepare for one of the biggest performances of my life. Just thinking about it makes me feel nauseous.

Mixed feelings, actually. I am not really prepared to face them when I am like this. Not in my territory where everyone else around me knows I am somebody else. Should I just be myself and expect not to shock them? Should I just go on with my typical life, always out at night, almost never showing emotion and merely breezing through the daily grind? It will be downright difficult. I can picture it now.

And it scares me.