from ashes to ashes.
My biological clock is fucked.
It’s been fucked for days, since the semestral break had started.
So yesterday I had made the effort to finally fix my sleeping problem by not sleeping the entire day! It’s the one solution that always works for me, since I am not a selective sleeper.
6pm, just when I was about to doze off, Carlo and Aidz come knocking on our gate, screaming out my name. It was weird seeing the two of them together, talking again. There had been a 2-month long cold war going on in the dormitory and it was starting to get on everyone’s nerves, including mine. It was nice seeing the two of them happy, so despite the total WTF-ness of the situation, I decided to tag along on their little WTF-adventure, considering that Carlo buy me a pack of cigs for the ride. He did.
It had not dawned on me until we got in the car that the ashes of Carlo’s dead ex-boyfriend were going to be with us on this trip; and that the whole gist of this whole WTF-ness was going to revolve around the question inquired many countless times by my friend Carlo to me in our longtalks, Where do I dump his ashes?
I feel honored to be one of the friends Carlo has chosen to share this very emotional and special period of his life. How many people can live to tell that they helped their bestfriends scatter the ashes of their dead boyfriends? Miguel sat in a little white makeshift urn just beside the stick shift. It was weird to think that all those stories about Miguel had finally materialized itself into a little white jar just inches beyond me. It was hard not to think that Miguel was just somewhere close by.
Before deciding where to dump the ashes, we had to make one last pick-up. From Marikina all the way to the edge of the world, Paranaque. We had to pick-up Mek, finally completing our line-up.
Where do you scatter the ashes of your dead boyfriend? It is a hard question to ask, and an even harder question to answer. Where do you?
I don’t particularly remember all the details that lead to the decision, but it seemed like a good idea to scatter Miguel’s ashes someplace where it was always lively, where his spirit will be free to share the fine aroma of imported and overpriced coffee beans. We scattered his ashes behind the Starbucks lot in Tagaytay, overlooking Taal lake.
It was truly a light-hearted feeling. No tears were shed, only goodbyes. Seeing all my friends happy made me forget about my own problems, in particular. Aidz and Carlo were talking again, and it makes me proud to think that I somehow had something to do with their unexpected reunion.
I am most happy when my friends are happy, and we must enjoy every living moment we have with those who make our lives worth living. Isn’t that the lesson the dead are trying to teach us?
