Catharsis of a living ghost

Almost two weeks had passed since that fateful evening. Until now, I’m still reliving and replaying the scenes over and over in my mind. Its one of those unforgettable moments that I know may never happen again. Again, this is me holding on to nothing but memories; just like a kid wants the candy in his mouth to never melt.

The moment I stepped off from the jeep I rode to get to the meeting point, I knew the evening was going to be exceptional. The atmosphere had a dreamlike quality with it, I noticed.

I was walking along the sidewalk when you passed me by and purposely ignored me. A brief moment of eye contact was all it took for me to understand. There could be people watching.

I watched you from afar while you smoked your cigarette. Amazingly, you seemed to have not lost a notch of class with your movements. Many times, I thought of you as a queen in your past life. You still have that uncanny ability to make heads turn, and you still have the same flair and nonchalant demeanor.

So we smoked away the minutes. And the minutes became hours. As expected, no one mentioned anything about the past. Perhaps it was because we were both afraid of unearthing the corpse of a dead concept. The conversations centered mostly on the present, which was something I found difficult to focus on. Small talk has never been my cup of tea. But yeah, I guess I just had to go with the flow that night. Your presence was enough to make up for everything, and seeing you again was the oasis I’ve been searching for in this long desert I’ve been traveling on.

The one thing I’m glad to hear about is you surviving everything and moving on with your life. I wish I could say the same thing for myself but unfortunately, I’m far from the state you’re in now.

As we bid each other goodbye that night, I felt the same set of pins pricking my chest hundreds of nights ago. It was a feeling reminiscent of false hopes and wilting Valentine ’s Day roses. But still I can say that that night was nothing less than stellar. And I’m thankful for it.

’cause if one day you wake up and find that you’re missing me/
And your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be/
Thinkin maybe you’ll come back here to the place that we’d meet/
And you’ll see me waiting for you on our corner of the street

- The man who can’t be moved. The script.