I just went back to the place where I used to live which I haven’t been able to visit since the day we packed our belongings to live a new life at a new place and that was approximately, six years ago—when I happened to pass by at my childhood friend’s house. My feet automatically stopped from walking and couldn’t help but scan the surroundings.

A lot of things have changed since the last time I’ve been here, which didn’t surprise me since that last time would probably be more than a decade ago. Gone were the kalachuchi trees planted beside the wall, at the left side of their gate. We used to pick its flowers and put it behind our ears, in a poor attempt to copy that protagonist from that Mexican soap opera which was a hit during that time.

Old days sure bring smile on my lips. Even the old gate was gone now I wonder when they changed it; even this new one doesn’t look so new anymore. Speaking of gate, it was slightly ajar; someone must have forgotten to close it.

Or they didn’t bother because in this area, people usually know each other that they don’t bother to close it when they’re home. This is a small neighborhood, everyone knows each other.

I peeked inside and found her younger brother sitting in a hammock nearby. He was so fixated on his phone, probably playing an online game; maybe everyone is addicted to it? Well, maybe not everyone as I don’t even know how to play it. Not that I’m interested anyway.

I decided to come in, I must have made a sound, or I intentionally made a sound, he looked up and saw me and said “Hello, Ate.”
I waved and told him I visited our old home when happen to pass by in this area, I got curious and invited myself in and trespassed. He just laughed and said nothing.

He’s gone taller than what I remember. He may be sitting right now but I’m pretty sure if he stand up I’d probably reach his shoulder. The kid from my memory was smaller than most kids of his age, now he’s even taller than me. Where’s the justice in that? I used to tutor him when he was seven, a request from his mother who I still call “Tita” whenever I see her. My, my time really fly, I heard he now teaches in High School. Social Studies. Hmm he’s pretty good in Mathematics and kind of terrible in English then so why he didn’t major in Mathematics?

I would probably teach Social Studies, if I heed my parents and became a Teacher.

“Where’s your Ate? Still in Manila?” He said yes and she hasn’t been home for a long time now. Probably a year or so.

I made an “Oh, I see” sound and asked if I could look around while waiting for my sister to arrive, she was still at the old house, I texted here to fetch me here. He nodded and get back to playing with his phone which is good. We have nothing to talk about other than his sister and I’m not good at making conversation.

His sister was my best friend when we were five years old. I smiled remembering his sister. The first time I met her, she was shy and timid. Barely talks, probably because Tagalog was not her mother tongue. They were from Bacolod. We met when I went biking in the neighborhood and we hit it off instantly. I...