Moving Forward

I remembered very well that the last time we seriously talked I told him that when I happen to come across him in the future, I would show my achievements, accomplishments and even wealth by pretending to not recognize him. I imagined myself walking past him as if he does not exist or in the event of an unavoidable conversation say, "Hi, have we met?" or the more dramatic, "Can you please introduce yourself? This is the first time I encountered such an abominable persona." That was how vengeful I was. Yes, vengeful is a substitute for bitter, something people associate with failed romantic fixations and which I associate with a certain vegetable. 

So when I graduated I decided to cut all possible means of communication. I deleted his numbers (yes, two different networks), and hid his facebook updates on my wall. To remove him from my list of friends was too bitter a move-- you know you're bitter when you deny being so.

 I longed for self-improvement: I took up a master's degree, spoke in front of people and delivered lectures-- all in the pursuit of something I could be proud of against him. In my fascination of ninjas I thought of all those as shurikens: things to hurl at him until he's ground to a pulp the moment we meet again.

To fuel my motives I thought of how he threw derogatory remarks on me, the curses, the expletives. How he slaughtered my confidence. How he condemned me for who I am. How verily he portrayed how terrible I was as a friend. The months of uncomfortable silence between us plus more months of half-hearted interactions were more than enough to torment me and kept me asking why. But those were to end because I'm going to throw it all upon him the next time we meet. Bastard, I'm gonna kick your ass without you knowing it. 

But time thwarted all my plans. Time, with its sharpened edges cut the chains that held my mind captive. Suddenly, there were new friends, new adventures and a lot of things to do and it all slowly, painstakingly removed the hate from me. It was like shouting at the top of your lungs in front of the vast ocean until the burden weighs no more.

And it confused me. 

Before, I was certain of what to do when we meet. Grind, pulp, feed to the dogs. Now I don't have any idea. I was supposed to rehearse my reaction upon seeing him but all I could ever think of was nothing. He thinks I hate him. A big smile and a warm welcome is ironic, not to mention so unlike me. A cold glance and stark indifference was out of the options anymore. In a moment of enlightenment I decided to stop thinking and let it all just happen.

And he was the same old friend I know.

Probably slimmer but the pounds he lost were gained by his ego. Mas yumabang pa nga eh. But this time I realized that I do not take that against him anymore. Before, I cannot stand him. In fact, I restated the Pauli Exclusion Principle to apply to us:  We cannot be in the same place at the same time without an argument. I hated him a lot, but I liked him more. Ironic but true. But now, I took his yabang as that usual attribute of a friend you would tolerate simply because he is your friend. I was not irked anymore and would not engage in a senseless banter with him anymore. Yet he was his usual self. The kind who teases, jokes and irritates you like a pesky little spoiled brat infuriating the yaya with his mischiefs. Before I would fuel his malevolence by striking back, now I just pass it off as his nature. 

When we met and sat down to a couple of drinks I must admit that I had the best conversation in years. No one can beat that guy's smart ass when it comes to things we talk about. That was why I liked him in the first place. And when we touched on religion, he said that we should not just call on God only when we need something from him. I felt the urge to insinuate that by extension, one should not do that to people, say for example, me. But I held my tongue. Something has really, remarkably changed. There was no pounding of the chest, there were no awkward moments for me and I could look at him straight in the eye and say the things I want to say. 

Have I forgotten all the hate? God forbid, have I been nice to any life form? I don't exactly know but one thing's for sure. I don't want to hurl at him all those shurikens anymore or ask him what kind of surgeon would operate on him if I shove an entire shoe collection up his ass. Time has been so kind to remove him from my death list. 

Was it indifference? No. I still care for that conceited member of the male species. However, what I probably had in excess before, to the point of staying up all night to answer his exams, I have now in the friendliest of form. The kind that refuses, says enough and says not what you want to hear but what you need to. I realized a major mistake I made all along. I was too engrossed on liking him that I did not notice the good friend that he was. It was unfortunate that we have to go through all these just to find ourselves enjoying each other's company now without the stigma that prevented us then. 

I found it amusing when he shook my hand really hard and patted my back like he's going to expel my lungs when we parted ways. I even thought we'd gonna do a chestbomb. You know, that gesture boys do when they're happy to see each other. Hilarious. But most of the time the ultimate manifestation that things move forward for the better is when you could simply laugh it off. And we laughed till we had abs. Then suddenly I remembered a line from the opening theme of Full Metal Alchemist: To regain the things we've lost we must keep on moving forward. I cannot stand the cheesiness but I agree.

And oh. He recently just officially became an engineer. I did not congratulate him. There is no point in doing so. I am not surprised that he would pass. I knew it all along. 

Keep well.