IRONIC: BUS RIDES MEAN GOODBYE AND HELLO.

written: February 15, 2010

Funny how one place can make you happy and sad at the same time.

You think that after five years or so, I’d get used to it by now? Because, yes, Victory Liner can make me both happy and sad. I’d like to think that it is my best friend, but somewhere in between, it is not.

I have spent countless nights (and days, even) on Victory Liner Cubao: to fetch someone, and for the very rare instances that I go down there from Baguio (for reasons I will not mention here), but most of the time, especially now, to accompany someone back to Baguio – where I left my heart.

I have also spent countless nights (and days, even) on Victory Liner Baguio: upon arrival, and when he drops me off after a good last-full-show movie or breakfast at 50’s Diner.

Goodbyes. Over and over. This is yet the most heart-breaking part of being in this ldr. You think I would have gotten over it by now. Pero gaya nga ng sabi ko sa kanya last night (or this morning, for that matter), talo ako, dahil umiyak na naman ako. What is it with me and goodbyes? I always end up crying. Always. Right after seeing him standing beside his ride where I was sitting at just a few minutes before – looking at me and waving, or standing on the front door of Victory holding a bottle of water he failed to give me. While special places like UPB, Sunshine Park, and Burnham Park pass by right in front of me, I have a flashback of everything that just happened and right then and there, I start to cry. While on the taxi on my way home, and realization hits me like bullet that the weekend was just the best weekend ever because it was with him, and that the days ahead would be empty again. Right after telling him that I’ll miss him or while in line (to get his ticket or for chance passengers), babbling about something random just to escape the inevitable truth that (and because I am too chicken to admit that this is a goodbye and face it right on, knowing that I would end up crying again, no matter how unholy the time is) bus rides mean goodbye.

But, for the good, half part of it: Hellos. Over and over. I’d like to think that hellos will never run out, for I need more hellos in my life than goodbyes. Because, yes, as heart-breaking as it may be, bus rides also mean hello. For that jittery feeling whenever he tells me that he’s already in Camias. For that uncontainable excitement whenever I’m already at BGH – knowing that he would be waiting with a warm hug, a candy, and a kiss. For the good weekend (or weekday) ahead of us. For the plans, ready to take place. That is why, no matter how my heart breaks with every goodbye, I hold in my heart a promise that will always be true: “I’ll see you soon.” (and no, this is not from that Dear John movie, but from my own love story).

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