Phone Calls and Short Conversations

Three years ago, I wrote an article about him as a Christmas present. An article which I thought would be the last one. But then, here I am again today, writing about him because he was the first person I thought when we are asked to write about the person whom we can’t say goodbye. Here I am again, writing all my sentiments about him, how I miss him dearly, and how I would give everything to turn back our times.

I mean, how will I say goodbye to my first love when he is the last person whom I wanted to bid my farewell. To the one who made my dull and forgettable high school life one hell of a roller coaster ride. To the one who has been my living diary that constantly listens to my rants, my clown that wipes my tears off my eyes and made them happy, my mirror that shows the real me, and , of course, my best friend who has been there for me in my most stupidest moments.

We had memories together in that old ice cream house as we share our favorite flavors of ice creams. During those times, we would not notice how hard the rain was or scorching the heat of the sun. We would not notice that it was past my 6pm curfew or when it was time for us to go home.

Ours was the time when I wait for him till his basketball practice was over, when he waits for me outside our room, when we go for a carousel ride in Cubao, and when we go finding our friend’s house till we realized that we are lost.

I remember how I went to his house after class just to see him for the last time. I made a very long letter in a crumpled yellow paper, in between my English class, with my pitiful penmanship carefully scribbling the things that I wanted to say eversince high school, while I silently get my handkerchief and wipe my hot tears that ran in my face.

And then when we saw each other, we bid our farewells and promises of keeping in touch. We exchange memorabilia, and talked of the things that we should do if we’ll meet again ten years from then on.

I would never forget that moment that made me realized that I really can’t say my goodbye.

He was not really the one that got away. In the first place, he was not really mine. He just have to go far, be with his family, and fulfill his mother’s wishes of him. We’re plain old friends and I know that. It’s just that there’s a part of me that hopes someday, if we’ll meet again, we’ll be the same old friends back when we were just those naughty teenagers trying to escape the pressure our family and our studies bring.

Though he is miles apart from me now, though we had our own memories together way back in high school, I know it will never be the same again.

But today, we keep our promises with each other—and that is to keep in touch despite our very busy schedule. He calls me on special occasions and during times when I just wanted to talk with him. He would call in between his duty at work, silently escaping his boss’ demands. He called to inform me about his new car which he has to pay, his plan to enroll in few subjects next semester, and his plan to save in order to have a vacation here.

We still have our short conversations while we are growing as the individuals we have dreamt to be. We are growing separately but dream as one, share experiences together– though we are walled with distance and all the internet connection disruption. The times when we just say hello to each other online. Or when something popped in my mind, I’ll message him to call or to answer my e-mails. I would comment on his latest photo showing his growing fat body while he mock my thin body and curly hair and we’ll talk about it on the phone like kids teasing each other in a playground.

I am happy that even now, he still knows me. I let him know of my undertakings, from my college activities, my family, my love life and everything in between.

Truly, I really can’t say my goodbye. Because I know that it would be very painful. It is not about moving on or letting go but a matter of waiting until he comes again. Until that time, I’ll keep on waiting for him to come back.

Gelyka Dumaraos

Gel is a writer and wanderer from the Philippines. She maintains this blog, Musings and Pathways, as a platform for her thoughts on love and life and stories of places and people she meets while on the road. Aside from writing and being a freelance media consultant, she is recently into baking and cooking. Gel lives with her fiance in a humble, work-in-progress abode in the beautiful province of Rizal. Email her at

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