Two Minutes

My first intention was to keep this blog to myself, but since my someone (no name dropping, for "semi-anonimity's" sake) asked me a favor to help him tell a story...

It was the eleventh day of November last year. I think it was the fourth time that we were together on our monthsary... But that time, all we had was merely eleven hours. Eleven hours before he was to leave for the States.

That was one of the moments where I felt a strong mixture of feelings: I was tensed, I was excited, I was happy and I was lonely. Being with him is the only blissful thing I can imagine and at that time, I think it was being robbed from me.

I knew he had to go. I knew it is for us and for our future. I knew that it wasn't the end at all. But things are easier said; it was harder to condition your mind. I cried a lot.

Here's the story of that day:

He and I were together the whole day. The sky was gloomy. It surely felt how I feel.

He was in the mood to experience the Philippines as much as he could, like it was his first day here - ever! We were with his uncle, but I think they knew how we needed to spend some time together and alone, so they let us be.

I didn't care where we went, where we sat, where we ate. All that mattered was that I was with him.

1. Our first stop was at the playground at Mall of Asia's own "Baywalk". Yes, we played like we were toddlers - toddlers in love.
2. We had to fill our stomach so we went to Mang Inasal, where they failed to satisfy our cravings in the same fashion like Penong's can. Nonetheless, it was a treat!
3. The whole afternoon, we were nomads. Going to and fro. Roaming around Mall of Asia like a tourist couple.
4. Before the day ended, he made sure he'd said his goodbye's to people who mattered to him.
5. And then we met his uncle, who treated us to dinner. The food was more than enough.
6. And then the drama, or should I say suspense, began...

We left the mall at around 7:45PM, almost certaint that the airport is just less than 10 kilometers away; thus, a 20-minute drive. (His flight is at 10PM.) To our horror, the way to the airport was jampacked and traffic was heavy - so heavy that the vehicles only move about one to two meters every five minutes. (Yes, traffic in Manila is that heavy.) At first, we thought things will be all right. But come 9PM (yes, we were still in between barely-moving cars), we were tensed.

He was already leaning forward because he wasn't relaxed at all. His uncle kept on sighing and thinking of ways how we can get to the airport faster. To add up to the tension, his lola kept on calling and checking up on him. She even warned us of a $100 fine in case the passenger will be late for the flight. I, at the backseat, was praying and teary-eyed.

And so, we though of these ideas in case by 9:30, we are still stuck in traffic.

• Idea No. 1:He will get off the car and run to the airport instead.
• Idea No. 2: We will ask a motorcycle driver for a hitch. Or we can even pay him.

Thank goodness we need not do that, because either way, it will be difficult for him and for me. We arrived at the airport at around 9:40PM, just as soon as the boarding for his plane commenced.

Because of the traffic drama, we were only left with around two minutes to say our "later's" (not goodbye's, we never say goodbye). We cried, said our "I love you's" and renewed our commitments. And then, he had to leave...

Love, just jets.