Bitter Pills, Breathing Spaces

Those where the last sets of French phrases that I've heard from Clement and my classmates. December 6 marked the last day of my French class for 2008. We'll be resuming our classes in January next year. By then, I would've enjoyed my upcoming 16-day vacation wherein I'll surrender to my ever-growing pile of unread books and do some more writing. I have tons of things to blog about - movie reviews and hauls, just to name a few - but somehow, it'll feel inappropriate if I didn't blog about someone that mattered to me who I happily yet sadly surrendered to a dream that was fulfilled also on December 6.

When I got her text message saying that it was her last night in the Philippines, I felt sad. We've been friends since 2001. She, along with two other ladies, were as close as we could get. Our bond was forged by our love for training and our animosity towards one of our teammates. Then came issues of the heart and home. I was the lone single person and the youngest among the four of us. I was also the last to leave the company by 2004. Since then, we became witnesses to each other's life stories -- weddings to childbirths, new jobs and credit woes, getting bigger or slimmer -- sometimes silently, sometimes actively. The last time the four of us met was in January and we ate in our favorite restaurant. By that time, my brood of pseudo nephews and nieces grew by a fold. However, what didn't change is that I was still single but they were happy for me. Despite our apparent differences, we jelled together. And by now, one of us has already arrived in the United States to be with her husband. It was a dream of hers for as long as I could remember. I'm happy for her. But how do you say goodbye without shedding a tear or two? Trying to put on a brave face when, in fact, you absolutely feel sad?

I am in tears while I'm writing this because I'm terribly missing her. Everything about her. The last time I saw her was when we ate lunch with both of our mothers and her daughters last September. Since then, she spent her last few months in the country in her hometown of Olongapo. I got her farewell text message last December 5 and hit me hard enough since I know I'll never see her again unless I decide to pay her a visit which only God knows when.

Somehow, I'm glad that I didn't get to say goodbye to her in person or over the phone before she left because I know she'll be depressed to see/hear me in tears. Same goes for our other two friends if they see me this way, simply because I don't hold the cry-baby torch among the four of us. The one who left bore that torch. Perhaps, the three of us who remain here will pass it amongst ourselves, just to keep it lit.

Time can only tell what this milestone will do to our friendship. Hopefully, it'll be stronger across the distance. For now, all I can just do is to let go.


c,')

xoxo, l.p.