Remembering You

cropped-cropped-945051_576969178990030_6706747_n1.jpgI remember you. I remember every time you put your feet on the wheels of your bicycle while I was at your back, scared that I might fall and meet an accident down the road. I remember the popular songs we sing together, how you tried to teach me to dance along with the tune. I remember that night when you helped me climb my way to your house’s roof, and as we count all the stars, you told me your dream to be a pilot and your first flight, and though things are uncertain, I started dreaming about mine too. I was ten years old back then, and you were two years older than me. You were the first one to know my deepest, unearthed secrets. Until now, you are like a big bro to me, and that fact resonates in my heart and my mind everyday.

But sadly and unfortunately, you laid your own body inside a coffin and gave up your own flight.
At first, remembering you was indeed uneasy, and I found myself agitated as your face flashes into my vision. I felt anger and kept my silence about your very existence, about our friendship.

But now, my friend, I’m deliberately understanding the words you instilled in me. Now, whenever I remember you, whenever I cherish those moments, I feel sudden joy, even for just a few seconds, each time I feel down. I had promised to you before that when I fall in love for the first time and if that person reciprocates my love, we will scatter your ashes along the seashore, which is the fulfillment of your dream. I am truly sorry for not being able to fulfill such solely because the second requirement of my promise wasn’t even attained.

I will not be a pilot, just like you wanted to be for yourself. Like what I said to you before: we have our own paths to follow. I’ll be making my own flight towards my dream — a dangerous yet an adventurous one. Just like pilots, before commanding an airplane, who undergo training, a person who wants to be someone else in the future needs exposure and experience.

And that is what I’m doing. I wanted to be a writer, a medical doctor, a mathematician or a scientist, and I don’t care where these paths will lead me. But even though your breath don’t anymore contribute to the endless cycle of nature, I swear that I will continue your flight by directing mine.

I remember you. I feel your presence as I see a bike going down the dirty streets and as I get scratches and wounds whenever I try to learn how to run its pedals. I still sing those songs we sing in the kitchen or on the rooftop, and it was like I am traveling back in time, singing high notes of our favorite Boyband’s songs and even that of Michael Jackson’s. Warmth embraces me whenever I watch stars twinkle during a long night, remembering your dream, your first flight, and different possibilities.

Thanks for being my bestfriend. Thanks for letting me take over your plane. Enjoy the ride and be my passenger for a while.


Memoir Madness



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