gatas ng kalabaw

all this talk about being healthy and going organic and raving about "truly pilipinas, worldclass!" and saving the earth makes me dizzy with excitement.

last night, i tried kalabaw's milk for the first time. i found it all of the above and more. it's surprisingly yummy. :)

sort of short

*

"i never have ..."

she woke up one morning happy to smell the grass dampened by a light rain. she had a dream. she was actually awaken by the dream. but like most dreams she had, she couldn't remember the one she just had. she felt this weird sad feeling that lingers. she got out of bed and chose to focus on the sweet smell of rain telling herself today's going to be a lovely day.

or so she said, and she was quite good at convincing herself.

the day after he was gone, more truthfully, after she said goodbye to him, she sat in front of her workstation and picked on giving the dream a memorial. she believed that one had to remember so one could forget. but she knew too that one doesn't really forget.

they were an unusual pair. like one was white chocolate and the other white gold. both ironies. theirs was a roller coaster ride. a happy one. a painful one. of course, like all other stories, she could only think of what went on in her mind and heart. she would not know of his. a glimpse, yes. a hunch, most probably, but she would never know.

in the dream, she saw him with another. she would dream with assumptions as she would dream of faceless people. but she knew it was him. and she knew it was not her beside him. but she knew all that a long time ago. long before she chose to take his hand in hers (or was it allowing him to take hers in his? ah remembering could get so confusing.) to walk the highway.

in the dream, she had wanted to call out his name. but telling herself she shouldn't, she didn't. however, he sensed her presence and turned to where she was. their eyes locked. understanding completely without really understanding. he excused himself from his companion and walked toward her. he said "i never have...".

she never heard the sentence completed because her alarm went off. but she never really needed to hear the sentence completed because she knew what that lingering sorrow meant - he said, "i never have loved you."

that day wasn't the day she said goodbye. the days after seemed to pass by so quickly. they talked, as usual. she even told him of the dream she forgotten.

but like all rides, theirs had to end. and as she was about to take her empty cup of tea to the sink, she asked herself, what if what she believed he said wasn't what he really said?

"i never have loved anyone like i have loved you."
she wouldn't really know.