I had three hours to kill so when you invited me to your place, I found I had no reason to decline.

I wanted to stop half-way through the stairs. There was something almost sacrilegious about going to your place. I was hesitant, and you felt it. But then there was the top of the stairs, then the door and then I just knew, I couldn't leave unless you asked me to.

I came in to your room expecting a mess. A terrible mess, actually. But there was none. It was spotless. No clothes on the floor. No unfinished food on tables. No dirty dishes. Nothing. It was absolutely clean. Wow. Coast guard ka nga.

You told me to make myself comfortable. You said you were going to sleep and my first thoughts were about leaving, and then they were about why you could have possible invited me over when you wanted to sleep. I don't actually know if you were sleeping. I honestly don't. But I found it quite comfortable on the foot of your bed. I opened the book Mai gave me and started reading.

One-hundred and fifty pages later, I had to take a break. I looked at you. You were stilll sleeping. I looked around. There weren't a lot of stuff in your room, but there was enough to learn while waiting.

I stood and walked towards your shelves. There were two stuffed animals there. (Not very manly, but still adorable.) There were scented candles. There was your prized basketball.

Then there were two bottles that gleamed with the light. I did not need to come closer to them to know what they were. I owned the very same ones and recognized them from a mile away. But just to be sure, I picked one of them up, the orange one. Mango Mandarin, the label read. I held the bottle in my hand, unable to believe it. I took the cap of and smelled it. Yes. Mango Mandarin. I set it down and picked up the blue one. Cotton Blossom.

I found, soon enough, that I was smiling. Mango Mandarin and Cotton Blossom were the very same splashes I wore to work. You had them in your shelves. *sigh*

I looked at you; you were still sleeping. I walked towards the foot of your bed, sat myself down, and brushed my finger to your foot. You warmed my heart.

Then you woke up. I took my hands away. My face was hot. You got up and did some stuff and I was too ashamed to see what. You didn't ask why.

We didn't talk. It wasn't an awkward kind of silence, really. It was the silence of understanding.

If that was the first of many visits to your house, I am glad. If it was the last, I am glad anyway.

Everyday, the more I think I don't need you in my life, the more I realize that I do. You warm my heart.

---------------
Last Saturday, I was standing near the halo-halo station (I think it should be so called because halo-halo ang mga nangyayari sa dun sa lugar na yun.), when I saw a cute little kid standing beyond the empoyee's only line. I admired him for a second or two and started walking back to the counter. I had my back turned away from the station when I was surprised by someone grabbing my hand. The cute kid held my hand and squeezed it. He stood so close to me it was like he had known me for a long time.

Tita! he screamed. I squinted my eyes, trying to figure out how this kid could have possible mistaken me for her aunt. I looked around the store, searching for someone who possibly resembled me. Nada.

Tita! he screamed again. I smiled. He was sooo cute. But there was something about him that made him different... He wasn't looking into my eyes. He would look, but only for a second.

I was on my knees. How old are you? I asked him.

*Gibberish, gibberish, gibberish*

I couldn't stop myself from raising an eyebrow. How old are you? I asked again.

*Gibberish, gibberish, gibberish*

You're confusing me. I told him.

He laughed an incredible laugh, as if he was playing a nasty trick on me. He spoke more gibberish, covered his face with hands and laughed some more. He was too cute. I stroked his hair.

Then someone said How old are you, Jonathan? She's asking how old you are. I turned to see a lady. He's five. she said to me. I forced a smile.

Toys R Us! he screamed this time.

No Toys R Us here, sweetie. I said.

He grabbed my face, like he was trying to make me look at him, and said slowly: Toys R Us. That's when I understood what made this child so different from the so many I meet everyday. He was autistic. What he just did, other people must do to him all the time to get his attention and to get him to understand a variety of things.

You'd think my heart would sink, but it didn't. Instead, it was filled with unbelievable love. The kind you feel for strangers who tell you about the bad days they are having. The kind that is more than compassion. The kind that other people wouldn't understand no matter how hard you try to explain it to them.

I stood. I had things to do. It was Saturday, and the store was busy. Bye. I said to him while waving my hand. Tita! Tita! he screamed at me. I couldn't have walked away if I tried.

He stood on his toes with his arms outstretched. I went back into my knees, because I thought he wanted me to pick him up. Instead, he wrapped his tiny arms around me and gave me a hug. I held him, closing my eyes and revelling at the moment. Then he gave me a kiss. Not the quick brushing kind that kids are used to giving, but the long, sloppy kind you give your mom for Christmas. Bye, Tita. Bye. he said. I gave his body one last squeeze before I got up and walked away.

Labels: love

kitten posted @ 10:07 AM