The Path To A Lost Heart

continued...

i love them, yes. i have a steadfast belief that you will always have that connection with people whom you had lived with under one roof . and that you can always call upon that connection, invoke your memories together to relive that bond when your life hangs on the balance. so i procrastinate. i wait until i or they absolutely need to before i reconnect. what a lousy friend i am!

my daily life has been so infused with routine that for the first time in eleven years, i am back to the question, who am i?

i started at the fascinating reintroduction to cooking. i remember that i love Thai food, courtesy of myra who brought me to that Thai canteen in UP. i don't cook but i have always loved watching cooking shows. i fell in love with River Cottage Autumn hosted by Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall (did i spell it right?).

i finished adrianna trigiani's book in one day. i learned to cry over a novel again.

i recollect life in Kalayaan and Sampaguita and the lifelong friends i have made there. i realize that i have held would-be friends at arms length because i was thinking they will never live up to the ones i already have, no matter that we rarely really sit down anymore to talk.

i realize that at the very bowels of my being, there is an equal measure of apathy and passion. and that from time to time, i alternate between the two and move in their spectrum.


so how to jump to the other end of the spectrum? i unearth my old letters long buried in the past.

i read as if i am a hitchhiking tourist with my right thumb up, negotiating a ride toward the land of my lost heart.


to be continued...