emanon,
34°C, the average summer heat. Though it is scorching hot outside, the temperature didn’t bother the children; it didn’t bother us at all. Summer is about the outdoor games, the sweat, the shared stories and laughter, and everything that will make our souls alive before it gets dark. I was 6 then, young, bold, active. You’d always pull your favorite chair under the tree in front of our house, grab today’s newspaper to read the news or probably solve a crossword puzzle, and watch me as I play on the streets. The heat was bad for your health, but still, you were persistent.
“When we play hide and seek, if you’re ‘It,’ you cannot peek. Try to find us, we won’t quit. Start to count, because you’re ‘It’!” You knew how much I loved this game, just like how much I love you.
“One.” You always gave me what I want. I’d sob on the grocery floor for not getting that Tomica that I already grabbed from the counter, but you were there whispering to me, “Don’t worry. I’ll get it for you,” and wipe the tears off my face. The things my mom and dad were unable to give me, you did, you always did.
“Two.” You never failed to prove your ‘I love you.’ From the simple good nights you gave, with a kiss on my forehead to top it off, to the times that I felt buried underneath the dirt. A hand was always there to save me from grief, a shoulder was always there to cry on, a hug was always there to keep me warm, and a heart was always there to love me.
“Three.” You were the best woman for me. The best dancer, with your vivacious ballroom moves. The best singer, with your mellifluous lullabies of classical tunes. The best cook, with your mouth-watering delicacies. The best comedian, with your over-the-top sense of humor. The best person I knew, for simply being ‘you’.
For countless times, you played this with me when I wasn’t able to go out. Once you start to chant, I’d run and hide away. You knew too well that I’d hide under the bed, behind the door of the living room, or inside the cabinets in your own room. Nevertheless, you were the best actress to pretend to not know; funny how you fed my ego.
Then, I always hid, but now, 10 years later, I’m ‘It’.
“One.” One big sigh.
“Two.” Two tear-stricken eyes.
“Three.” Three last words.
“Ready or not, here I come.”
You were ready, I was not.
You ran and hid too fast away from me. I wasn’t able to catch up. And when I did, I only questioned you for hiding too suddenly, hiding too well. You hid inside a white oak case, well-groomed and dressed, surrounded by aromatic flowers and plangent cries. Unconsciously, I fell to my knees and tears started to pour out of my eyes; I lost. I lost you, without being able to tag you to be the It, without being able to take away the pain your feeling, without being able to give you the warmest hug, without being able to make you smile, without being able to tell you how much I love you one last time.
You hid too well, to the point that I will never be able to seek you.
Literary: Hide and Seek
34°C, the average summer heat. Though it is scorching hot outside, the temperature didn’t bother the children; it didn’t bother us at all. Summer is about the outdoor games, the sweat, the shared stories and laughter, and everything that will make our souls alive before it gets dark. I was 6 then, young, bold, active. You’d always pull your favorite chair under the tree in front of our house, grab today’s newspaper to read the news or probably solve a crossword puzzle, and watch me as I play on the streets. The heat was bad for your health, but still, you were persistent.
“When we play hide and seek, if you’re ‘It,’ you cannot peek. Try to find us, we won’t quit. Start to count, because you’re ‘It’!” You knew how much I loved this game, just like how much I love you.
“One.” You always gave me what I want. I’d sob on the grocery floor for not getting that Tomica that I already grabbed from the counter, but you were there whispering to me, “Don’t worry. I’ll get it for you,” and wipe the tears off my face. The things my mom and dad were unable to give me, you did, you always did.
“Two.” You never failed to prove your ‘I love you.’ From the simple good nights you gave, with a kiss on my forehead to top it off, to the times that I felt buried underneath the dirt. A hand was always there to save me from grief, a shoulder was always there to cry on, a hug was always there to keep me warm, and a heart was always there to love me.
“Three.” You were the best woman for me. The best dancer, with your vivacious ballroom moves. The best singer, with your mellifluous lullabies of classical tunes. The best cook, with your mouth-watering delicacies. The best comedian, with your over-the-top sense of humor. The best person I knew, for simply being ‘you’.
For countless times, you played this with me when I wasn’t able to go out. Once you start to chant, I’d run and hide away. You knew too well that I’d hide under the bed, behind the door of the living room, or inside the cabinets in your own room. Nevertheless, you were the best actress to pretend to not know; funny how you fed my ego.
Then, I always hid, but now, 10 years later, I’m ‘It’.
“One.” One big sigh.
“Two.” Two tear-stricken eyes.
“Three.” Three last words.
“Ready or not, here I come.”
You were ready, I was not.
You ran and hid too fast away from me. I wasn’t able to catch up. And when I did, I only questioned you for hiding too suddenly, hiding too well. You hid inside a white oak case, well-groomed and dressed, surrounded by aromatic flowers and plangent cries. Unconsciously, I fell to my knees and tears started to pour out of my eyes; I lost. I lost you, without being able to tag you to be the It, without being able to take away the pain your feeling, without being able to give you the warmest hug, without being able to make you smile, without being able to tell you how much I love you one last time.
You hid too well, to the point that I will never be able to seek you.
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