The Millennial Writer

Time heals all wounds, they say. Time gently pushes you to move forward and to never stay on the same ground, for the reason that you simply deserve a new beginning. Time naturally filters memories of which you are supposed to leave behind or bring with you. Time lets you embrace the pain for a while, and then teaches you to let go eventually. I have always believed in its power to heal and to reinforce a wounded soul, not until I saw this person again whom time may have forgotten to deal with for many years.

11 years ago, February 14, 2006, I was an excited 15-year old girl, for her first prom night. I was also on my recovery from my first ever break-up, so it was quite a sad Valentine’s season for me. Was patiently waiting for that long program flow to get wrapped up so we could proceed to the final part which was the cotillion. I just wanted to dance with my partner again for I might never get to bond with him again as rehearsals were over and prom season was ending. Just as the host advised the pairs to assemble and prepare, I saw him from afar, walking towards me, in a black suit defining his fair complexion with those Asian eyes searching for me in the crowd, he grabbed my hand and led me to our post. That 16-year old young man became a really good friend of mine since then. He left for college on summer of that same year, and I never heard of him again. I missed him, but I moved on after that.

Five years after, summer of 2011 when we saw each other again. We were both over our college years, hopeful of what the real world had in store for us. I came from another break-up which was a lot more terrible than the first one. Well, he still looked the same, except that he already had a pair of glasses and a bit of a gained weight. Nothing has changed though, not even the feeling of comfort and inexplicable happiness brought by our companionship. We would see each other day in and day out for two months as review masters in that tutorial center. We knew it would end. I then left for my first job, and I never heard of him again. I was hurt. I got confused. I had questions. Still, I moved on after that.

Another five years went by fast, summer of 2016 when I called off my engagement, thinking I had things figured out as a struggling 25-year-old adult. I managed to get through the healing process a bit smooth though, I believe. Trusted God’s timing, and simply because I know better this time.

My 2017 started with a reunion with my highschool prom date. I stared at him across the table during dinner after a Sunday mass we attended. Caught up with updates about our respective lives, common friends, most significant life events in the past years and I slowly realized as we talked, that this man has always been a part of me. Questions were running in my head such as “Where did time go?”, “Why has it not changed a thing about how I see him?” “Why do I still feel this way after all these years?” “Why didn’t time heal us?”. It was so surprising to realize that it is actually possible to be constantly affected by someone despite years of being apart. One thing was made sure after that night, I knew I wanted this person to stay for good.

And today, 11 years after to be exact, February 14, 2017 – I stood outside our office, I saw him from afar, for me he still looks the same except that he now wears a white suit complementing his fair complexion, and a thicker pair of eye lenses on those Asian eyes searching for me in the crowd, he approached me and handed me a bunch of roses. Certain things came to mind. I have always stood on the same ground with this man. Just when I thought I have completely forgotten about him, when in fact, I never really moved on. I have always looked at him the same way I did, 11 years ago.

Maybe time sometimes doesn’t really mean to heal. Perhaps, sometimes it’s just supposed to prepare two people for a certain moment. Or it could be that two people are not really meant to move on, and that they are only supposed to wait.

Happy Valentine’s Day. 🙂