Monday, March 29, 2010

Ode to Al

The truth is, I don’t even know why we get along so well.

First of all, we’re exact opposites. You always say that I’m patient and I always say that you’re impatient. You’re very techie, constantly reading about the latest gadgets and downloading the latest software, while I couldn’t care less about new technology and I still use Internet Explorer. Your favorite color is orange, mine is blue.

And we never agree about anything. I say that Fidel Nemenzo is adorable, you just frown and sarcastically ask what’s so great about him. For you it’s alright to spend a thousand pesos for a Moleskine notebook, but I’d rather spend the money on shoes or clothes. You keep on saying that I nail bite, I keep on insisting that I don’t.

And you always make me feel helpless. You never let me change your mind no matter how much I beg. You never accept ‘No’ for an answer and you make sure that you get what you want from me.

The truth is, I don’t know why we get along so well. But I have a hunch that it’s because you know how to make us get along.

You know how to deal with my curiosity. When I ask you about something technical, you never dismiss my question and you never answer anything vague. You would try to make me understand by breaking down the details and patiently explaining each of them. Most of the time you would even draw for me, like what you did when I asked you how infinity pools work.

You know how to deal with my mood swings. When I tell you that I’m sad or I’m tired, you don’t try to cheer me up; you would be quiet too, and later when I’m in a better mood you would be sunny too. When I complain in annoyance about Prosilverblades, you would say something that would make me laugh and I’d forget my irritation. When I’m angry at you and I lash out bullets, you fire right back at me with missiles and you make sure that you subdue me.

You know how to deal with my childishness. You took me to Marquee Mall to see the fountains and when I squealed childishly at the magical sight of the lights and the water, you even offered to take my picture. When I told you that Fidel Nemenzo is the man of my dreams, you took me to sit in on your STS classes. When I asked why boy watches are big and girl watches are small, you let me wear your watch and you even wore mine.

And when I told you yesterday between crying sad faces that I had ruined your Moleskine gift because I tried to do art and I couldn’t control my medium, you just replied with a smiling face and “It’s okay. It’s your Moleskine. Be free.”

I don’t know why we get along so well. But frankly, I couldn’t care less. I’m just thankful, and I just thank you.

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