and if it ever was there and it left, does it mean it was never true?

"I could go crazy on a night like tonight
When summer's beginning to give up her fight
And every thought's a possibility
And the voices are heard but nothing is seen
Why do you spend this time with me
Maybe an equal mystery"
-- Indigo Girls, "Mystery"

I remember singing this over the phone with you in a duet, many years ago, in what we thought was going to be the last long conversation we'd ever have. How bittersweet it was to hear you say the nicest things, and for me to tell you how much you've overwhelmed me, knowing that I might as well tell you everything since we had reached the end of the line. You were leaving, and I was finally letting go.

I wish you knew how valuable you are. Despite your failed endeavors, your missed chances, your misunderstood actions, you are, still, a blessing.

I believe it was a divine Hand that nudged me into changing my usual walking route around the UP oval one evening in April 2007. I went to our old haunts: the lutong-bahay house behind the post office where I had my first Bicol Express, the isaw stall near IS, the Math building where we queued to enrol for your sister, NIGS where I had my STS class right before your Nat Sci II, FA and its disjointed cafeteria across the street, PHAN where you'd pick me up at 5:30pm so we could go to practice in a studio in Anonas, and ISSI where we'd fetch your mom at 7:30pm on the way home.

A day after that memory walk, I was jogging at the oval again and I mustered enough courage and battled 3 years' worth of willpower to call you up at your house. Luckily, you were there. And you were happy to hear from me, as I was. I asked you how things were at home and you told me your older brother passed away a couple of days back. I sensed the grief in your hushed voice, and I knew I had to see you soon. And we did.

We would see each other not too often on occasions after that -- at the wake of your best friend's dad and the 9th day service, on your birthday, at a random evening where you had a 2-hour window for dinner before picking up your mom from work.

Early this year, you came to my aid on the week I broke up with my boyfriend, and the first day my dad was brought to the hospital. You never left me since then, calling almost everyday, hitching a ride from my office every now and then, cheering me up by taking me to badminton tournaments and designer parties, or just showing up at my doorstep with either a chocolate bar or a couple of beers to share. You accompanied me to a wedding dinner in Pasay even if you were sick, and you drove all the way to Caloocan even if you came from Paranaque just to take my friends home because I passed out after too many vodka sprites. And, one drunken morning, "without hope or agenda", you kissed me quick on the lips, and I told you I loved you and you said the same, but a couple of days after when we were sober we decided to charge it to experience and to stay friends.

We're not ready. I don't know if we'll ever be. I'm not sure if we could fathom the consequences of dating you even if you're my best friend's ex, forever worrying about money and the lack of it, thinking about the right time to tell our families about how we've been going out too often, and dashing my hopes of marrying within the next 12 months. I know it's too much to think about these things this soon, but we've been getting in and out of this awkward intimacy for almost 10 years, and it's not cute anymore. It's either we step up or we firmly decide to stop going pseudo-steady.

The love has always been there. But is it enough for us to stay?