True Story: Summer in the Rain – A Sorrowful Serendipity

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Happy familyThe sound of rain was pounding thru the roof, hard. There is a slight melancholy to its sound making you doubt to go out and have fun. I stared at Dana, my small yet trusted motorcycle, Shall we ride today? With the crack of lightning, I guess not for today, something I barely refuse, riding in the rain.

I do ride my motorcycles, rain or shine. It’s refreshing riding in the rain. That exhilarating scent of water coming from the sky. Almost similar to how good it feels if you smell the freshly ground coffee on those cold December mornings.

The sound of raindrops tapping violently on your helmet, that exciting beats of water, having their own melody accompanied by the swish of wind you hear. An orchestra for your own pleasure, I must say.

The addictive adrenaline rush that you feel knowing that one overlooked decision might be your last. A rush that keeps you on the edge. As you push yourself harder to ride in the drizzling rain. A constant pull between life and death, between rage and calm.

But not today. For some reason, I decided to suppress the urge to play in the rain. With a deep frown in my face knowing I would miss the grand performance of the rain today. And go thru hell with the city traffic. A 15-minute travel on a bike is not as easy as 2-hour commute sitting idle with some stranger’s vehicle with. Another stranger, I pray that whoever I sit with doesn’t smell like hell. I grabbed my phone, wallet and a fancy pink umbrella and threaded the rain.

Stood by the waiting shed and waited for the cursed ride to arrive. After a few minutes, it stopped right in front of me.

Shit! I almost blurted out. I saw the summer in the middle of a typhoon. Even on that gloomy, rainy day. Her radiance immediately filled every inched of my soul. Creeped every crevice on my body. Her warmth was unlike any other I have ever experienced. It was like finding the sun the first time my entire life.

There she was sitting in front of me. Skin as pale and yellowish as a Chinese woman. It looked so smooth and soft. Very much like porcelain. As if her skin would shatter to a thousand pieces if hands like mine, unrefined, unworthy to touch them.

Eyes like arrows that pierces through you. Eyes that would know all of those darkest secrets you hide. Those deep drown eyes would later on see all through the bullshit I have. All the darkest secrets and fears, would still love me after everything and wouldn’t falter. Eyes that would see me as I am and not be afraid to be judged or misunderstood.

Huge breast, (oh come on I am a guy). Bosoms that would comfort me like how a mother comforts an infant, solidarity in her bosoms.

An exquisite line of smile. A very innocent unassuming smile, a smile that I later on in life would comfort me through all the pains and hardships in life. A smile that will forever be etched in my memory.

I would be a fool if I just stared at her. I said to myself, “if she drops off at the same place where I was going, I’d make a move…”

Never have I believed in fate, but today lets tempt her.

“MRT” I said, then alighted the FX (what we usually call for a regular SUV car). And lo behold there she was, glistening in the rain.

“Damn”, I whispered. ‘Took a deep breath.

“Miss, you do look strikingly familiar…” I said.

“Ikaw din”, (“You too”) she said. And boy did I see angels smiling and singing that moment.

“Can I have your number, maybe we can hang out later this afternoon?”

“0xxxxxxx”, she replied.


Later on that night we grabbed dinner and coffee, our first date, McDonalds, a poor man’s elegant diner. The first of many and as the legends would say, the rest is history.Mother and Son

That was 7 years ago.

Now, every time it rains I can’t seem to stop myself from drifting and drowning in my thoughts, always thinking of that fateful day I met my wife, best friend, and confidant.

Adrenaline was not there anymore. Everything was dull.

The rain was not as inviting as it used to be. It seems that the rain turned its back on me. The smell of the rain doesn’t attract me anymore as it did the past years. All I can smell right now is her scent, that aroma that I have grown accustomed to the past years.  The smell of her every time a day started and ended.

I couldn’t hear the orchestra music that the rain once produced and used to dance with. All I can hear is her cries of pain on those months she was battling her sickness.

I could not even remember the sound of her laughter all I hear is her voice calling out my name in pain.

On the days where the sun stood bright. Despite all the blinding light I feel myself caught up in the never ending darkness, falling to a deep abyss of nothingness.

Drifting with all the guilt.

I do blame myself, for not loving her enough, not saying I love her every time I had the chance, instead I choose to hold my stupid phone.

I wish I hugged her every time she complained about the pain she felt. Instead I cowardly turned away. Because I couldn’t bear seeing her that way.

I wish I have done the chores, instead I allowed her to still make food for me.

I wish I said I love you to her at least one last time and I can hear her say it back.

On her last hours on earth, I wasn’t there, I was asleep, sleeping soundly back at home clutching our pillow while she was in the hospital suffering clutching on to no one.Son Left Alone

I could have been there. I should have been there…

I should have held her hands on her last breath.

I could have said I love you one last time…

Instead, I was left nothing but to kiss and hug her lifeless body. Nothing but an empty shell. The light that once guided me in life, faded from her eyes.

All the vibrancy that made me who I am today, gone from her smile.

All that radiance, gone just like that…

Seven years seemed like a dream, a short and wonderful dream.Seven years seemed like a dream, a short and wonderful dream

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