Look where a piece of junk got me

I was just fiddling with my wallet, when I chance upon a piece of junk that triggered the tear ducts from flowing and the memory cells from remembering him...

Yes. Him. Again.

You see, I never knew that I carry that piece of junk in my wallet for a couple of months already. I never even knew that I placed it there. But I must have. Back in that time when I must have wanted to keep a physical evidence or a souvenir or a physical trace of memory of a wonderful time spent together. It was a piece of movie theater ticket from a nearby cinema place we went to when we watched Barber Shop 2 last February.

Seeing that ticket again, and recalling the event that came along with it made me suddenly miss him, miss talking to him, miss listening to his crazy but wonderful stories and simply miss the old friendship.

In that moment of weakness, I succumbed to the urge of sending him an SMS.

"Hey, for what it's worth, I miss my friend... no need to reply. juz wanted you to know that. Take care."

It wasn't, and still isn't, my intention to revive an old friendship to life. No. The fire of our old friendship was already doused by lies, deceptions, hurtful accusations, mistrusts and disappointments.

So, my message was, simply just that. A message to convey what I was feeling at that time. I couldn't say I regret ever sending that message. I do miss him, and the friendship he had taken away along with his departure. But missing the person, and trying to patch up the broken pieces, are two different matters. When a glass is broken, you cannot paste it back wholly. 

It also made me reflect that, sad to say, our kind of friendship did not pass the insurmountable test that suddenly came. Both parties gave up easily. So maybe it wasn't even true friendship at all. Maybe it was just some fleeting fancy on both our parts that we both were prepared to drop at the first signs of distress.

(-wait... that suddenly scared me. That just meant to show on what kind of a person I am, as was  shown time and again. I am a person who gives up too easily at the first signs of trouble... That scares me. When wiill I learn my lesson and stay and tough it out? --)

And although his reply, "I miz my fren 2.. take care"  made me smile, I don't believe him. Not really.

***

On other News

I am not yet ready to date. I am not yet ready to get involved with another man.

Not even if he is this cute 25-year-old blue-eyed, blonde-head hunk of an American. Okay, I'm exaggerating. He's not really a hunk. But he's cute. And he's interested in me. Problem is, I'm not.

Earlier at work, while I was taking my break, he sat in-front of me, and we began talking about the Filipino lifestyle and food... which eventually led me to daring him to eat Balut, which, I think we can buy here in China Town in Philly.

I smirked at him and told him that I bet he wouldn't eat that.

"Well," he said, "I'll eat one balut and in exchange we go out and watch a movie."

I didn't know how to answer him. My brain says let him down gently, or daan mo sa joke, or just simply say hell no. In the end, I gave him a non-answer. I just smiled.

And then humirit pa, "I'll even eat two baluts and in exchange we watch a movie..."

I just smiled... again, and said, "I bet you couldn't eat it even if you tried. You'll just end up puking all over."

Then I suddenly remembered Ivy's comment when I told her about this American guy. She suddenly laughed and said, "I couldn't imagine you with an American."

That's funny Ivy. I couldn't either.

***

Talk about Paranoia

But one couldn't really be too careful, right?

When I got home from work, at about four in the  morning, I couldn't find a single parking space at our apartment complex. As I was driving slowly, looking for a space, a black guy walked to my car gesturing at me to roll down my windows. I got scared. No one is around except me and him.  He came closer and closer to the car, and I panicked! Imagination kicked over time. What if he has a gun and he points it at me if I rolled down the window? What if he rapes me? What if no one will hear my scream for help? What if  he kills me?

I quickly reversed the car and drove out of the apartment complex. I then called my dad and told him about the guy, and asked him to come out of the apartment because I'm scared.

When I came back at  the apartment complex, my dad was waiting for me at the door. The guy was still there, standing besides a van whose hood was opened. When I got out of my car, he approached me and I looked at him warily, ready to scream at the first sign of danger.

But all he said was," Miss, do you have a jumper for a car?"

Say what?

Turns out his car had broke down and he needed a jumper for it to start.

Well, my dad ended up helping him, and the guy finally got to drive out of the place.

But see, I believe I did the right thing of not rolling down my window and talking to to the guy when he gestured for me to roll down my window. Safety first, ika nga.

***

Apparently, the mind can still function wonderfully even for having not slept for 24 hours already.

Or can it? Coherent pa ba ang mga sentences ko?

O sya, time to sleep na.