7:14 AM
Just another story
Once upon a time, there was a 15 year-old-girl who was deeply infatuated with a 21-year-old guy. They met one summer in a play, where the girl was one of the lead actors and the guy, the assistant director. Weeks before the show opened, the actor playing opposite the girl backed out and the guy volunteered to take his place. However, the director replaced the guy with another actor at the last minute. The girl was disappointed, to say the least
The guy had always been the girl's fantasy—an unattainable one at that. The guy was what girls would call a “catch”— he was charismatic, charming and he came from a de buena family—so it was not surprising that girls swooned at his presence. Luckily, the guy loved girls almost as much as they loved him.
Unluckily, the girl witnessed the guy switch from one girlfriend to the next— this week it was a reed-thin model, the next it was someone he met at a bar— just as if he were changing shirts.
The guy also somewhat made the girl feel she meant nothing to him but a kid sister, as if careful not to give her even a glimmer of hope. One time, the girl thought she overheard him say he would never go out with kids. Perhaps the guy intended those words to reach the girl’s ears, sensing her crush on him. Perhaps the girl was just paranoid.
But when the guy was not playing the tough I'm-older-than-thou act, he was sweet to her. He saw to it that the girl was taken care of, and he provided her the most stimulating of conversations. At those times, she prayed he didn't see her as the kid. She thought he was very cute too.
She considered the times hanging out with him as one of her best. Occasionally they'd eat out (with the other theater people, of course), go to bars, or stay at the girl’s house until the wee hours of the morning, talking, goofing around, and filming silly commercials together— commercials directed by the guy and acted out by the girl and some of their friends. One time, after filming at the girl’s place, they decided to take a dip at the pool at 3 a.m. The others didn’t care for swimming, so it was just the two of them—the girl and the guy— chatting the night away. They stayed submerged in water till dawn. In a way, the girl was satisfied with just that. But of course, a kiss wouldn't hurt.
When summer—and their play—ended, their days together came to an end as well. They rarely saw each other after that, which saddened the girl a lot. But what did she expect? A few months later, the girl threw a party at her place, as an excuse to see him. And come he did, totting his new girlfriend along. The girl never threw a party for his expense again.
Time came when the girl no longer clung to her fantasy, although she never forgot the guy. She knew she had to be realistic, so she moved on to boys her age. From time to time, the girl would bump into the guy—at the mall, at a club, at a party thrown by a common friend. When that happened, she would act cool, calm and collected, as if the sight of him didn't affect her at all. She could be a very good actress when she wanted to.
Two years later they met again. This time during the guy's grandma's funeral. The girl was 18 now, and the guy 24. The girl was happy to see him, and quite surprised that the sight of him didn't set out butterflies in her stomach anymore. Time erases a lot of things—or does it really?
The girl noticed something different about the way guy acted towards her that night, but she couldn't really put a finger on it. Before the girl left, the guy asked for her number. They were in contact regularly after that.
The guy would ask the girl almost everyday how she was doing. They'd joke about things, exchange stories and talk about old times again. Guy would sometimes flatter her using sugary words, and she would ride on with it, assuming nothing. One day, the guy surprised her with a Chinese quote. He would sometimes refer to the girl as Chinese because she resembles one, but since she wasn’t, she had one of her Chinese friends translate the quote.
"It means 'I love you,'" explained the girl's friend. To say the girl was startled was an understatement. But it did explain the way he was acting the past few weeks. He couldn't be serious, the girl thought. It was so sudden, so soon. It seemed that she got what she had always wanted, what she had always craved for. But why did she feel that familiar sinking sensation at the pit of her stomach? She recalled the guy’s long line of girlfriends during their theater days. That was not what she wanted to end up being— just one of those girls he’d get and discard quickly.
She couldn't bring to ask him about it. But she didn't have to because the next night he told her again, this time in plain English. She didn’t say anything. They never talked about it again.
The guy suddenly stopped contacting her. In a way, the girl was relieved. The guy was a past chapter in her book, as far as she was concerned. But deep down, she knew she still liked him. But she told herself it was better that way. She wanted none of the pain, none of the complications that went with liking him.
Soon, the girl heard the guy had a new girlfriend. She didn't feel a thing this time--no stinging, no churning of the stomach. He would contact her from time to time to say "What's up?" to which she would obligingly reply "I'm fine. You?”
Then a year later, after months without contact, the girl received a call from the guy.
Guy: You doing anything later?
Girl: I'm doing stuff for work. Why?
Guy: I want to go out. But not alone...
She gave it a long thought. She knew she wanted him, wanted him still. But what he could give her was not enough. She wanted what her fantasy promised her—the whole deal. She wanted him for keeps. But she knew he couldn’t give her that because he still hasn’t changed—he was the same person she knew at 15. She knew what she had to do, although she wished she could be weak and not say…
Girl: Sorry I can't. Still have a lot to do. I have a deadline soon. Raincheck?
Guy: Sure.
Both girl and guy knew there was no raincheck. The guy got the hint. Still they played along, talked a bit about their lives and reminisced about old times again, both aware that it may be their last time to do so.
They haven’t spoken since.
*******
Once upon a time, there was a 15 year-old-girl who was deeply infatuated with a 21-year-old guy. They met in theater, where the girl played as one of the lead actors and the guy, the assistant director. The guy had always been the girl's fantasy--an unattainable one at that. And she was right. Because they were never together, and it seems never will be. At 20, the girl moved on. It took her a long time, didn’t it?
Still, sometimes, the girl would find herself, like now, remembering those summer nights she spent with him four years ago: Their stimulating conversations, their swim at 3 a.m. and, most especially, their acting together. He could be a very good actor when he wanted to. Just like her.
Exactly like her.
***********
Conversion in Palawan
ALTHOUGH Palawan is known for its beaches and crystal-clear waters rich in marine resources, not being keen on water sports and activities, I was not excited to be going there.
But everything changed when I set foot on the province. One look at the sparkling blue-green waters and I knew I couldn't spend my time just staring at it.
Palawan's waters felt like nothing else. Since it was the dry season, the weather was perfect for sunbathing and the lukewarm water delightful and soothing to the skin. Swimming alongside colorful fishes in the translucent waters was an added treat.
But the best part was the place's serenity. At Dos Palmas, where we stayed, the beach was secluded and was almost like our private enclave.
Time seemed to pass quickly while in the water, and I was amazed at how soon night fell.
Snorkeling mishap
I would have been more than happy to just wade in shallow waters, but the Dos Palmas people who organized the trip, had other plans for us.
Leeds Trompeta, sales manager of Dos Palmas, laughingly dismissed my reservations about snorkeling. "Don't worry, it's very easy. Even kids can do it," Trompeta said.
Snorkeling for the first time was a strange and awkward experience. I was too preoccupied with breathing at first to fully appreciate the rich marine life below. But soon, I forgot about the breathing business and focused my attention on the multihued soft corals and other aquatic
species underneath. It was spectacular!
But just when everything seemed okay, I absentmindedly inhaled air through my nose, forgetting that I should breathe through the snorkel. My mask wasn't tight enough so salty water got through my nose, gagging me.
On reflex, I raised my head to get some air and struggled to remove the mask and mouthpiece.
"Blow! Blow!" the snorkeling instructor commanded, meaning I should blow water off my air passage instead of removing my mask and snorkel. His instructions worked, but snorkeling suddenly ceased being leisurely and became hard work.
Scuba Diving 101
Next on the agenda was introduction to diving. If I was worried about snorkeling, I was terrified of diving! The choking I experienced when snorkeling was still on my mind.
My paranoid mind came up with possible underwater disasters: drowning, bursting my lungs by rushing too fast to the surface or even getting chewed to pieces by gigantic man-eating sea creatures. But though terrified, I was also drawn to the idea of being able to breathe underwater,
feeling weightless and swimming among the fishes. In the end, curiosity won over fear.
After a 15-minute orientation, we headed for Helen's Garden, a diving spot in Honda Bay perfect for beginners. My heart was pounding as I strapped on the buoyancy control device, a belt that can be inflated or deflated to control buoyancy, diving mask and the heavy compressed
air tank.
"Don't worry. You won't feel its weight once you're in the water," the dive master said. As I placed the regulator in my mouth, he also reminded me to, "Breathe in and out slowly. Don't hyperventilate."
After a few minutes of practice on the surface, the dive master and I started our descent to 10 then 20 feet below.
The feeling of sinking was both exhilarating and nerve-racking.
Although it felt invigorating to be underwater without holding my breath, I couldn't help but be conscious of my breathing. Equalizing the pressure in my ear also proved to be tricky.
But soon, my fear was replaced by wonder. My breathing became relaxed and, for the first time, I saw how beautiful it was down there! Various sea creatures that I used to see only on television and magazines, swam before my amazed eyes.
My dive master signaled for me to kneel on the ocean floor and touch the soft corals and giant clams. I tried to brush my fingers against the tropical fishes, which came in all colors of the rainbow, but they were too fast for me.
By the time the dive was over, I was already thinking about being back among the fish and corals again.
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