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It’s the climb

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Ascend

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Boy Meets Girl

Boy meets girl
They become close friends
They hang out a lot
They share secrets

Boy meets girl
People start teasing them
People think they’re a couple
People become inquisitive

Boy meets girl
Girl doesn’t mind
Girl evaluates friendship level
Girl starts having indescribable feelings for boy

Boy meets girl
Boy has no intentions of dating girl
Boy places girl in the friendzone
Boy develops awkward relationship with girl

Boy ends peer assumptions
Boy eyes another girl
Boy approaches this girl
Boy tries to make his move

Girl is hurt
Girl feels sorry for herself
Girl misses her boy best friend
Girl is all alone

Boy meets girl
They were only meant to meet

Mr. D., the taxi driver

Last September 28, we rode a taxi going to Teachers Camp for the last day of our church festival. The driver, Mr. D., was very friendly. He greeted us, and his dispatcher (via walkie talkie) after he started the engine.

On the way, he told us that he would usually let people who were on their way to church ride on his taxi for free. For him it was his form of service for the people of God who were on their way to worship Him. He said that even though we had different religions we still worship the same God.

He started to talk about how much he appreciated ‘trash-pickers’, people selling on the streets, people working hard just to provide for their family and send their children to school. He despised those who stole just for easy money. He didn’t buy the ‘I just want to provide for my family’ excuse that theives would say when they got interviewed by the media after they got caught.

Then he told us his story. He was an ex-con imprisoned for 15 years. He was part of the special forces during the Marcos regime. He was on death row, the next person to be shot by the firing squad. And then the late President Marcos woke up and stopped the execution. That was when he said that God really loves him. He served his time in prison. He was evangelized by the Baptists who were active in prison ministry. When he got out, he attended services at various churches – Catholic, Baptist, and Evangelical. He said that he was able to get an NBI clearance to go abroad despite being an ex-con. He is from Manila and he settled here in Baguio. He married his wife who is from Lepanto, Mankayan, Benguet.

At this point, we arrived at Teachers Camp. I would have loved to hear the rest of his story. His story is his testimony to others. I believe that we weren’t the only passengers who heard or know of it. I pray that his passengers will be touched by his story, and turn to God, too. Thank you, Mr. D.

As I got out, I noticed the name of his taxi, “Sniper…”, remembering that he was part of the special forces. I hope I get to ride on his taxi again.

Doppelganger

“She looks like you. She looks a lot like you. She moves like you,  smiles like you, and talks like you.”

I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t even take my eyes off of the computer’s screen. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.

It can’t be. I was still in shock, in denial. No…it just can’t…

I wanted to grab the scissors and cut my hair. I wanted to use the remaining henna and dye it. I wanted to visit my ophthalmologist and buy colored contact lenses. I wanted to…

But I didn’t.

If I did, I wouldn’t be me. And this self-love, my narcissism, stopped me.

A part of me wanted to get to know her. We could be best buddies, share fandoms, and talk about our common interests.

Another part didn’t want to. Meeting her would be weird and awkward. People are going to compare us. We might end up competing.

I click on a video, wait for it to load, then it plays. I sit still and watch.

She looks like me.

She looks a lot like me.

She moves like me.

She smiles like me.

She talks like me.

But she is not me.