basta.

It has been so long but always you'd be the right person to walk with during afternoons along the Avenue, along the dusty streets of Naga, along the empty corridors and covered walks of Ateneo in summer. It has been so long but you are the one person I'd always ask out, not for a date, but to eat Biggs dinners or Greenwich lunches, and the usual kinalas. It has been so long but you'd be the first person I would come and look for to tell any small significant thing that made me see the world in another way. It has been so long but you're the only one who'd let me cry first before asking questions of why tears are there on her shoulders. It has been so long but there would be no other I'd want to be with, to listen to lazy rainy afternoons and let the comfortable silence tell all our stories for us. It has been so long but only you would jump right into the fantasy of our text messages without any cue, or inhibition. It has been so long but you still fall in love with my letters and turn of phrases and mean it when you say so. It has been so long but I still worry like a mother when I can't say exactly where you are. It has been so long but you still derail my thoughts and I wander along the wreckage, smiling; my favorite distraction. It has been so long but your eyes are the only pair I'd want to see squinting in the golden afternoon sun. It has been so long and I know I can only say so much.

It has been so long but the words come easy the way our hands easily fit into each other, and this is the way we have gotten too close our pores have become bestfriends.