To my first playmate

Dear She,

We weren’t given the chance to have grown up together. Your family moved away right even before we even reached our teens. Yes, we spent some summer sleepovers together in our grandmother’s house during a few vacations. But we never shared secrets and stories and gushes over our school crushes. We did not bond over music. You didn’t like Dido and Eminem in grade school, so we never really shared earpods. We did have DVD marathons though, or was it VCD? We watched bad movies, covered our eyes while Claudine Barretto and Rico Yan shared an overtime kiss in Got to Believe. You laughed at me when I cried over that Rugrats in Paris scene where Chuckie longed for a mommy. You even sang “I want a mama who lasts forever” while I cry every time. That was hell embarrassing. Those were my few growing up memories with you.

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I no longer remember this day, we had fonder memories than playing with these hats.

We were each’s first playmate and each’s first bully. We neverhad Barbies. We played with rag dolls instead, in our make shift kubo our fathers built for us. I remember us running over to our tita’s hammock. I remember you making fun of me and I making fun of you. I remember how we pulled each other’s hair when we disagreed about things. I remember you running away with my nth pair of slippers because you just wanted to piss me off. You have made me cry until I turn gray.

I was envious of other kids who have shared great and even stupid memories of growing up with their cousins. We never helped each other escape for a date, never spoke about our first kisses, never sneaked out for a night out with friends, and never lied to save each other’s ass. I miss you then. I already missed you during the time we spent apart. And now, all I know is that I have no choice but to miss you for a much longer time.

These memories now, I cannot fathom whether forlorn or favorable. I cannot understand if tears coming forth these remembrances are of sorrow or joy. Your exempt from life is but a liberation from your 2-3 years battle from Cancer. I only seek comfort at the idea that you are in a better and safer place right now.

Until then, She. For now, watch us from up there. Be your husband’s inspiration, your kids’ guardian angel, the grown ups’ (parents, grandparents, uncles, and aunties) strength and wisdom, and of course, my partner in crime from up there.

Everyone misses you.

P.S. Only during the weekend have I known you kept a diary the time you knew you had and fighting cancer. How I wish we exchanged notes then, or composed entries together. But it’s too late now. I just hope your kids will read it so that they’d know how much you loved and wanted to have lived more lives with them.

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