Missing

If it weren’t for my friends, college years will not be exciting. I am, by nature, an introvert, more like the introspective kind who keeps things to herself. Not that I can’t handle conversation, I was just not loud or vocal to somehow get people’s attention. But for some reason, we gravitated towards each other and began sharing stories, interests and views about so many things. We hit it off like puzzle, so to speak. Like suman and a ripe mango. Nut and bolt. Peg and a hole. Next thing we know, we were godparents to our children.

But years have passed and the bond slowly deteriorates. Aside from occasional rendezvous at birthdays, baptismal, wake, etc, life happens without them. Suddenly, I could no longer reach them and I was not part of their stories, dreams and lives anymore. And I became distant myself. Though our relationships were not completely soured; disinterest and lack of concern have not surely sweetened them either.

I almost got reunited with them. I looked forward to our class reunion with trepidation, expecting that things will get better. I could almost hear the guffaws, the never ending shriek. I can imagine us rolling with laughter. Then again, it seemed that all creations conspire to prevent me from coming. And I missed it. And I realized that I missed them all the more.