Dream of You

Cleaning up my data files, photos and websites on my hdd tonight, I found this old blog entry of mine dated January 27, 2005. I can’t seem to reconcile that I wrote this though I do remember the dream I had of her years after her death.

“Dream of You…”

i walk on a long narrow pathway filled with gravel and sand as though time couldn’t care, vaguely noticing the vibrant green bushes along side that mark my way. everything else is a blur.

she was only twenty one when she died, and she was one of my college friends. she was frank, quiet around others but not with
friends, and seemingly cold and aloof to those who don’t know her well. she was also outgoing yet in a reserved kind of way.

even my destination is obscured, the path just seems to stretch on and on and on, with a bright almost-blinding white light ahead of me.

we were alphabetically seated one chair apart on our first term in freshman year in college. i guess you could say convenience in
seat plan and our last names begot our friendship as we often would be groupmates.

i hear a faint voice eventually becoming discernible, and incoherent words i can hardly fathom, now getting clearer.

she lived only with her mother in a slightly above-average apartment somewhere in buendia. her father, not of filipino descent,
died of a ruptured aneurism in the brain when she was just a little girl. her older, much older, and only brother has been living
in the united states for years now as a military man.

i look to my right, and realized she was in stride with me all along. she was wearing her favorite pink collared shirt and faded blue jeans folded at the ends.

i graduated one term ahead of her. she got delayed because of their thesis. with our busy schedules, we seldom see each other
though our ‘barkada’ do make it a point to get together once in a while especially on special occassions. few months after her
graduation, i heard she got into one of the top i.t. companies in makati.

“how are you?”, i asked. “fine. don’t worry, i’m happy.” was her reply, with a serene smile.

during our latter years in college, she often complained of head-splitting migraines. stubborn as she is, she would dismiss our
constant nagging for her to see a doctor.

we talked some more, of things i vaguely remember, for what seemed like hours, the scenery unchanging, the walk growing tedious.

one uneventful day, another friend of ours, who is also her officemate, called me at my office with the news…
A: have you heard?
me: heard of what?
A: of mitch.
me: what of mitch?
A: she’s at st. luke’s. clinically dead…

suddenly everything started to blur… the pathway, the light, her face, her voice…

my body went limp, my world spinning, hearing the news yet disbelieving, unaccepting. i have to see her. we all do. i forced
myself to move, to stand, to walk, to drive…

an aneurism in the brain that ruptured took her life. just like her father. but she at twenty one.

i had just enough time to bid her goodbye before all disappeared and i was left standing… alone. in the darkness. but with content and light-heartedness.

i suddenly awaken. i was in my own bed. with a heavy heart, the bare truth hit me. hard. very hard.

but i remembered.

i know that she is happy now…