That one afternoon
It was during that one afternoon conversation, while watching History Channel, that I realized you were different. It was like seeing a new side of the story all the details of which I thought I knew.
Ensconced by the window after working on a church project, we were talking almost effortlessly — each sentence connecting to new ones — without noticing how the clock’s hands had inched their way to the late afternoon.
We were talking about ideas — from world issues to the plain trivialities of life. In my mind, I was debating with myself whether or not this exchange was actually taking place in my living room or was just all in my head.
Knowing how quiet you were, I was surprised at how you were able to carry on with the conversation. It led me to probe the theory about the quiet ones having a lot going on in their minds. It’s said that the quiet ones are the deepest thinkers. I was grateful to get a piece of your mind.
I finally felt this satiation I never thought I needed until we had the chance to exchange thoughts. It was not your ordinary small talk. It was meaningful, insightful, genuine.
Your expressive eyes made it all the more engaging. I could feel you gazing into my soul with every word you uttered. It was a new feeling — or perhaps a feeling I had not had in a long time?
We were like two people at the edge of a cliff preparing to take the plunge into unknown waters. All the fears of opening my heart disappeared because of the comfort of being able to speak my mind to you.
That moment felt like we were in a world different from everyone else’s. We were enclosed in a bubble of ideas and philosophies. It was just you and me exploring each other’s mind, traveling into each other’s thoughts, and reliving experiences we’d encountered.
As the evening met the dissipating afternoon, I did not want the dark to fall because it meant you had to go. I wanted the afternoon to last a little longer. I wanted to talk a little bit more.
But we both knew we had to cut the tête-à-tête because it was getting late. We were going to meet up again, but we were not sure when. You said goodbye, and I said I’d see you again some time.
You left me with memories that still linger. Undeniably, your beautiful mind has captivated mine. I greatly looked forward to the next time we would meet again.
* * *
Haly Obar, 26, a college instructor at Don Mariano Marcos Memorial State University-North La Union Campus in Bacnotan, La Union, says this piece is “a memorable narrative dedicated to her now other half of three years, and counting.”
