Go Away, Pablo.

I was treading on wet land. Every now and then, I would have to hop a little or take bigger steps because small puddles are everywhere. A line of trees were uprooted and were helplessly scattered on the ground. Some houses stood intact but are now roofless. The Christmas lights were still attached on the huge mango tree only this time, they hang in an oddly fashion.

Finally, I’m home. I was hungry so I went right away to the kitchen. It’s a relief—no, it’s more than a relief—to find so many food on the table. Real food and cooked-- paksiw na Bangus, Chicken adobo, hotdog, tuna, and a casserole of rice. There are just so much of them to be consumed in a day or two. There are cookies, canned goods, noodles, a dozen of eggs, a gallon of drinking water, and boxes of milk too. Moreover, there are two flashlights, an umbrella, and a backpack of clothes. You would think someone is up for an overnight camping but no.

Pablo.

Everything is a testament that Pablo was here. The people knew he was coming and prepared for it. I was not here when he passed by but there are enough evidences to quantify what he has done.

Somehow I felt like I am Pablo. I come and I go. Only I am not sure if I have left enough traces for people to remember that I came. Or if I had done enough for people to feel my presence.

As Pablo was approaching CDO, I was also on my way to ZC. And as Pablo subsided, I was on my way back. Maybe I was off for an escape. Yes, it was an escape. But it was not Pablo that I was running away from. ZC could just be as vulnerable.

I was running away from…

Wait, was I running away from something? Or was I running to something?

Someone said it was an escape from reality. A break from the dreadful and busy world. A stolen moment of undue happiness. A short glimpse to the past. A dream.

I informed some people ahead of time that I’ll be there. They are people that I want to see. Maybe not just them, but they’re the ones I missed the most.

And there I was. I’m not really sure what to do. I just know I have to be there. It was a busy time for everyone but it didn’t made my stay any less wonderful. Yes, I wished I was able to talk more to people. It’s different when you personally ask somebody how he/she is doing than just inquiring someone else how everyone has been. But then again, the fact that people are being occupied means they are up to something relevant—they grew up, responsible, active, and happy. Isn’t that my goal? To know that they are all these? Somehow I succeed.

Some people showed up. Some people didn’t. Some people showed up but chose to ignore me. Some people were surprised I showed up. And some showed up when I thought they shouldn’t or wouldn’t.

Almost everybody changed. Longer hair. Skinnier. Taller. Bushy head. Mustache. Less friendly. Less hungry. Shorter hair. Chubbier. More daring. More sporty. More open.

And me. Maybe I changed too.

Or maybe I didn’t changed much.

I mean, everybody noticed how small I still am. I woke up in the dorm and still looked for coffee first thing in the morning. I’m still the shy girl who is overwhelmed by the crowd. I’m still the simple girl who refuses over-bearing accessories and heavy make-up.

Yes, I haven’t changed much.

I saw someone and my heart is still pounding so hard that I’m afraid to talk because my voice might shiver as well.

Yes, I haven’t changed much.

Somebody asked for me and I know I was willing to be dragged anywhere.

Yes, I haven’t changed much. I left. Again.

I wonder if there is something to remind the people that I was there. Just like Pablo—he has done so much that no one can deny his sudden appearance.

But nobody wants Pablo. He is dangerous and harmful. Everything he left only remind people of those tragic days. No one would like to be reminded of him coming.

Recently, people are saying that Pablo will come again to say “sorry”. But he wouldn’t. I mean, he might feel sorry for what he had done but he wouldn’t return.

It takes intense courage and a little insanity to go after a storm.