HOW ARE YOU?

Seven years ago, cellular phones were not a thing.

I know this because seven years ago I could still hear our landline ring.

But today, PLDT has its own SIM card,

And your messages are just saved in my inbox.

You called that afternoon.

I remember you asking for yesterday’s homework.

I remember giving you the pages from our Filipino book.

I remember we both liked Edmundo Aguilar.

I remember you dumping Kurt Apolinar.

I knew you because you were the girl with the broken leg.

You were the girl with the seven older brothers.

You were the girl named after a woman in the Catholic bible.

You were the girl who was the complete opposite of me.

Then came another:

A small girl fresh from the desert

Who was poorly judged by others.

A girl who opened to us like we were sisters.

I was earth, as both of you were air;

I was fire, as both of you were water.

So how the hell did we end up

Finishing high school together?

From 6th grade to our senior year

I wanted nothing but to protect you two.

You were the only innocence left in me

That kept me believing that life

Isn’t as painful as it may seem.

You were the angels that tamed my demons.

You were the sun that calmed my seas.

The both of you loved me

Without the money,

Without the alcohol,

Without the cigarettes,

Without the boy talks.

The both of you cared

Like I wasn’t as bad as people thought.

The both of you read in between the lines,

And unlike the others,

The both of you finished the book

Before telling the lies.

After senior year,

We went our own ways.

I tried my hardest

To keep us contained.

But somewhere in the middle,

I became the friend who wasn’t gentle.

Somewhere in the middle,

I lacked the most important thing—

The thing people called “communication”.

A lot has happened,

A lot has changed.

And I’m terrified that if I tell you

I would feel nothing but shame.

And I hope to God that the both of you

Are not feeling the same way.

Because I want to know every story—

I want to know how the both of you met your Kims.

I want to know how Canada is treating you.

I want to know how Zap became this huge dog.

I want to know how life’s been handling you.

I’m not good with “I love you”-s.

I’m not good with asking “how are you”.

And I’m sorry, because I don’t know how to tell you how much I miss you two.

One day when we see each other again,

The three of us will laugh.

The three of us will cry.

But let them all know that our parade isn’t over.

This is just the storm’s eye.

Can I just tell you this?

That I’m sorry;