Copy

when we were just starting out

“…looking around there is nothing that I could want, more than to tell you
there’s no more than we’ve already got.” – gin blossoms

Just a while ago, I asked Igme to do something and he answered with the word, “Copy.” And that one word text message almost made me cry when I read it. And it was inevitable that the “why?” after that remark can simply lead to an inverted C-shaped mark with a tale and a dot.

I almost cried because Cef who was my usual text message companion till about 2 months ago, would usually answer using the word ‘copy.’ I remember being infuriated at times when after giving a whole lot of instructions, using up an equivalent of 3 messages per send, he would just answer with, copy. And I’d always complain how he can be so cold, that he didn’t send messages the way he used to, and afterwards I would feel like an angst-ridden teenager as he calmly splashes cold water on my face to kill the childish fever in my head.

I can be so intelligently stupid when it comes to petty arguments with him which we basically have almost everyday. At some point we were already tired of the pseudo scholarly debates we have over a shirt, a tone that was used, an unsaid expectation, or simply over a billiards game, that we even came to the point of saying that maybe the separation would help us both become more mature, and some other nonsense we made ourselves believe just to get over the twinge of being apart.

I called him up after I saw that message from Igme. And as usual, the 33-minute budget card just flew and we were at it again with our squabble which just ended with him not hearing me anymore, and me struggling to be heard till a voice prompt started speaking marking that we’ve already consumed the card.

Our voices were again breaking right before the line was cut. Till after the embassy interview, I will be carrying this luggage of agony of not knowing whether I will already be able to see him or not. And I feel this literally painful sting every time I would think of the days that I would come home without those pensive orbs gazing at me and that teasing grin which would eventually give me a kiss.

And so I pray hard. I pray that I would trust more in God so that I can shoo away these doubts. I pray that I can leave already before April 21, 2007. I pray for my family, his family, and every one else to be blessed. Most of all, as I realize how the most mundane of things could be the ones of the greatest magnitude, I pray that I can hear or read even just a single word from my soul’s poetry as I personally stand before him as he tells me, “copy.”