It was a cozy bar at the ground level of Prince William Hotel along Timog. That was 2003 to 2004, I think. I would go there and normally, there’s no customer and for me, it was the perfect hang-out for me. But the place also stands witness to my crazy drank days. Of course my definition of drank is nothing to how other alcoholics would as I’d normally go unconscious on my third bottle. This is the bar where I met a few, er…. okay, a lot of guys before. This is the same bar where I started to sing in public (although I would not really say it’s public since most of the time, there weren’t customer in sight).
You own this bar
One night, you found out that I was looking for an apartment and out of nowhere, we decided to share one. Within the next day or two, we found an apartment and we “lived in”. Over the next year, we had a love-hate relationship– mostly because of nuances inside the apartment. And there came a point that I finally left.
So I left, The love-hate turned to a hate-hate which eventually, became a civil-civil type of relationship. And we lost track. You went on a different path and I went mine.
I was on the phone last night with a girl friend and we were talking about a friend who died from liver cirrhosis. And she was telling me how people kept dying lately and she suddenly mentioned your name. My knees went weak, my voice was shaking, it took me a few seconds to regain my composure. I called my friend about someone else, not about you. Not about you. Not about your lung cancer. Never about your demise.
3 A.M. Tossing and turning. I found myself reminiscing. The first time we asked you out for badminton and you went somersaulting around the court. The time you were drunk and you told me you hated me for my being disorganized at home but you also loved the fact that I was “light” to live with. The time you cooked for my birthday. The time you were teary-eyed as you helped out a street kid for his school allowance. The time you passionately shared your heart for the networking business. The times of “bookings” at the apartment.
I won’t leave the memories behind. I won’t delete you from my friends list. I may give it a shrug for now and move on. But my moving on doesn’t mean forgetting you. It was not a perfect friendship. Flawed as it may have been, it was worth every moment.