The Sun Sends My Regards

March 30, 2004 at 1:25 am | Posted in Emotions | 1 Comment

In your sky-deprived world, how often do you get to see stars? Are you afraid of heights? Where do you go on your lunch breaks? Do you take the subway? Are you married?

There are so many things I would have loved to ask you, but I don�t know how. Three continents, two oceans and a dozen time zones stand in the way. While I wake up to the smell of coffee, you watch the lights flicker against the blanket of night. Indeed, as Seal sings, time is the space between you and me.


How did you learn Japanese? What instrument do you play? Did you grow up in Ohio? How many brothers and sisters do you have? What do your parents do for a living?

As embarrassing as it may sound, I admit I did a little homework on you. Impressive record, may I add, but what I�ve heard is not enough. You inspire a fascination that in turn inspires a dozen questions in me. From what I�ve learned so far about you I can tell there�s a free spirit within that seems to have mellowed down with time. So what happened?

Do you watch Letterman? Do you take walks along Central Park? Are you still dreaming of California? Are you worrying? Are you happy?

On Saturday mornings, I think about where you might be. Are you home watching TV? Are you out there getting laid? I think of you in someone else�s arms and I feel jealous, for some strange reason. I can�t think of a reason why would I even want to feel that way.

Have you been to the Empire State Building? What does it feel like to be up there in the clouds? Were you with someone? Do you have kids? What school do they go to?

Questions, and more questions. The truth is you�re just an e-mail away. I can just as easily type this all up and shoot a message your way. But how do I explain why I write to you?

But do I ever even cross your mind? Do you ever wonder where I might be or what I am doing? Do you even care that I have left my job?

My guess is you�re too busy worrying about your reports. Or maybe you�re much too busy thinking about somebody else, whether in your city or in the West Coast. Or maybe it�s just my usual paranoia working its way around my head.

What if I told you one of my life goals is to go there for graduate studies? When and if I get there, would you be open to spending some time showing me your town? Would you like to have coffee sometime? Pancakes? Pasta? How about you cooking for me instead?

But that�s a big if. I may never get to see you again. I don�t know if I�ll ever leave Manila, and heaven knows when you�ll ever be in town again. But don�t think much of this; this isn�t much. This is just about the questions I never got to ask you before I left Cebu. These are the things I wish I knew about you, but would rather really not know. It helps keep your mystery, which is what I think makes me think about you more often. If I knew the answers, would I even bother to write about you? Then again I just might, because you�re so damn good-looking.

(written back in September 2002, for Peter, who got me thinking about him even six months after we briefly met)

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  1. Brilliant literature!! Absolutely adore it.


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