You should not look for them in places they once were.
Look for them in places they are now.
In soft rain.
On starlit oceans
I Wrote This For You
"Ate," I sent on Viber one morning. "Nakakausap mo si JC?"
"Parang unusual na 24hours walang tweet."
"Yeah. Magkatext kami." My best friend replied after an hour.
"Busy siguro sa work."
"Ah oki." There was a sigh of relief. The assurance was enough for me to look for something else to worry.
It was a difficult inquiry. A log, I hesitate to send out of fear it will reach the ex's ears. But ever since resuming contact with him on Twitter last December, I get to read his Twitter updates when I check my micro blog's timeline. It has been a routine I pay little attention. Except, when his timeline falls silent for long periods or when interesting updates that tag his name catch my fancy.
The gesture, depending on one's interpretation is new to me. Never has I spoken with the Second when we went our separate ways. I've also been less forgiving to those who got my heart broken. Keeping in touch and actually caring run against my thorny personality. I'd still discourage someone who broke up to maintain contacts with the past.
But JC and I, were able to keep amicable ties. Common friends did their part. Also, by refraining from burning bridges when people around us refused to take sides worked in our favor. The commitment may have failed, but the goodwill is preserved.
And so, cliche as it may sound, but my awkward attempt to check him out through a common contact proves that ties do remain. It may resurface in a different guise, but when nature and character have stripped off the veils of ambivalence, there remains the unmistakable thought of the Other.
For the first time in memory, the string of failed unions ends in a poignant epilogue:
"Good, Wag mo na lang chika ha. Thank you Ate."
"It's ok. Ganyan din siya sa iyo pag nawawala ka." Rocco replied.