Bus Love

/ Wednesday, October 27, 2010 /

I

So there you are, sitting behind the driver's seat for the nth time. I assume that it's your favorite spot inside the bus. And you’re wearing that red dress again. I know you always wear that red polka-dotted dress on a Monday. I wonder if you also noticed that I always wear my favorite Deftones shirt on a Monday, too.

Perhaps, you don't.

Since I started taking the bus on my way to Manang’s house, the only time I saw you looked my way was when this toddler started crying like crazy behind my seat. Almost all passengers in front looked back, you included. I can vividly remember that knowing smile of yours when you saw how the doting mother simply planted small kisses to the child's forehead to stop him from crying. But aside from that day you looked back, what I can always see from here is the back of your head, slightly tilted down, engrossed in a book.

Today, you’re letting your hair down. In some days, you put it in a ponytail. But I like it most when you put it in a bun. How do I tell you that you are most beautiful when you put your hair in a messy sort of bun? You don't even look my way when I shout "Lugar lang!" a little bit louder the moment we pass by that old waiting shed under the town's largest acacia tree. Let me tell you a secret, I lost my virginity to a girl two years my senior under that waiting shed. But that was ages ago. For now, all I'm hoping for is that you look back inside the bus, even for just a few fleeting seconds. As always, I am just five rows behind to your right.

II

So there you were, you just went down the bus a few minutes ago. I live a few blocks away from that old waiting shed under the town's largest acacia tree. I heard you grew up in the city and that you're staying with your cousins the entire summer to take care of the family business. I really find your accent funny when you shout "Lugar lang!" at the top of your lungs. I wonder from which part of the city you’re from. All I can do is giggle by myself as I watch you go down the bus.

As much as I want to look back and catch a glimpse of you, I can’t and I won’t! I'll probably blush in a jiffy the moment our eyes will meet. But let me tell you a secret, the only time that I look back at you is every time we pass by Carcar; I know you're sound asleep by then. How can you sleep with those huge headphones? Maybe, you're into Vivaldi and The Four Seasons lulls you to sleep.

But I doubt it, I saw you once wearing a Deftones shirt. So I assume you're into them. Yet, I'm still hoping that you're really into Vivaldi because I like his violin pieces to bits. And… I like you, too.

I am fervently praying while crossing my fingers at the same time that you'll sit beside me next Monday, before you go back to the big city and totally forget your summer of 2003.

Photo not mine. 

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I usually say, in the end, okay, it’s love and it’s work — what else could there possibly be? -- Maira Kalman

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