Remember?

Dear H.

Who'd've thought we'd talk after almost 6 years? Yes, I last spoke to you 6 years ago, a chance meeting at the hospital where I was visiting my cousin, and you were having your regular maternity check up. I don't even remember what we said to each other.

Chatting with you now reminded me of university, that time we used to hang out a lot - where did we ever get time to hang out? Shouldn't we have been busy with schoolwork? - and that one crucial conversation we had. I had really forgotten. But remembering it was so easy, with all the details very clear as if it were happening again right now. You had your blue scarf on, we were smoking at the cafeteria on the ground floor of Vinzon's Hall. Afterwards, I think we walked all the way to the Fine Arts college to talk to your photography professor, and we looked at some of the artwork behind the building. That's why I occasionally remember you when I'm looking through some of the pictures I take with my Nikon.

We are left to wonder how are lives had turned out had we listened to our former selves. But like you said, there are no regrets. We made decisions that made us into who we are, however messed-up, however successful we may seem to others.

My memory is faulty. But maybe I make it so. I realized that today. I compartmentalize, and then I lock some doors, throw out the key. I am writing this down now, because I have put back this memory once again, and thrown out the key forever. 

From here on out, we look forward.

Love,

N