Just a few years back and he would insist the anniversary falls on the 21st of May instead of tomorrow.
I would challenge his claim by retelling our first meeting at Robinson's Manila; the long talk along Baywalk while the briny bayside wind wafts under our noses; and how such sudden evening downpour, which forced us to share a broken umbrella along Padre Faura became the cause of it all.
We remember.
Today, without a pang of bitterness.
Tomorrow, after dwelling over a past
we ought to forget.
