One day I noticed that you’ve made a habit of patting me on the shoulder and then asking “Ayos ka lang?” which I’d answer with either a nod or a smile. It’s become kind of frequent that I was starting to wonder if I indeed exude that bruised and broken aura that I’ve been trying to suppress. Then one morning, when the people from mission control told our team to log off and not take calls for thirty minutes, you stood near my station and, to my surprise, asked me this question
“Nagsusulat ka ba?”
“Editor ka ba sa dyaryo, sa PUP?”
“Sa college pub po.”
“Nag-aano ka sa dyaryo?”
“Nagco-contribute? Nung internship ko po, pero ngayon hindi pa po ako nagco-contribute talaga dahil hindi pa po ako confident sa pagsulat ko eh.”
“Pwede mong pagkakitaan ‘yan ah.”
“Ah opo, nagsulat na ako dati, online.”
“News website po.”
“Ayos ah, editor. Editor-in-Chief ka?”
“Ay, hindi po. News editor.”
“Mysterious daw ang mga writer ah.”
“O? Parang hindi naman. Parang baliw lang. Hahaha!”
“Nakita ko kasi ‘yung Facebook profile mo eh. Parang tungkol sa pagsusulat. Pati ‘yung cover photo mo… ano ‘yun, ‘I wanted words…’ ayos nga eh.”
“Ah, sa kanta po ng The Script ‘yun. Nothing.”
Well, honestly, I was keeping myself from blurting out: “Hindi mo ba alam ang kantang ‘yooon?”
I guess that’s where our conversation ended. If I remember it right, Erin, who obviously likes you even though she’s already committed to someone else and openly flirts with you even though you’re committed to someone as well, pulled you somewhere. I didn’t mind it though; I’ve learned to like her as a friend even if she’s clinging to you too much I think. I just stared at the monitor and fiddled with the mouse and keyboard. Meanwhile, my mind was reeling with the details of the awkward conversation.
The last guy who said that I seemed like a mysterious girl in a way confessed that he had a crush on me because of that. He was a classmate in high school. The same guy had written a Filipino poem for me and gave me warm fuzzy feelings when we’d become textmates for a short while before graduation.
“Ayan ang gusto ko kay editor eh, ang sipag magbasa.”
I heard you say while I was scanning some of the resources a few minutes before shift. You’ve been calling me ‘editor’ since that one time you asked me if the notation you’d written on one account was grammatically correct. I suggested how the sentence would sound better even though I sensed that you’d typed it wrong on purpose and that you’re kind of testing me. When I’m in a playful mood I’d call you ‘manager’ because you came to the rescue when some mad customer asked for a manager and our supervisor was nowhere in sight. So going back
“Kahit ang baba nga ng CST usage ko,” I replied bluntly.
“Ganito lang ginagawa namin dyan,” and then you took control of my mouse and told me to do what I was exactly doing before you made your first remark above.
“Oo nga, ganyan nga mismo ginagawa ko eh.”
I was in the middle of a call when you stood beside me, attempting to barge in
“Uy, parinig ako.”
I pressed the mute button, exclaimed “Bawal!”, threatened to hurt you if you’d still insist and motioned for you to go away. You should know that I don’t like it when some tenured agent listens to my calls. And then Erin asked you a question making you go away from my station.
After shift, I went to our supervisor’s station to check my ever-floating average handle time which seems to get higher and higher every week. You nudged me in the shoulder a little too hard and I exaggerated my reaction only slightly
“Maka-tulak naman ‘to, parang close tayo ah.”
And after a split second I took it back with
and a smile.
“Uy nagsusulat ka ng tula?”
“Ay hindi, ayoko nun eh.”
I was about to tell you why I don’t write poems when our supervisor was suddenly involved in the conversation. You told Boss
“Binabasa ko ‘yung mga post niya sa Facebook o, ang lalalim.”
I made a funny face as if saying, ano bang malalim dun? Hey, I got myself a stalker. Hahaha.
“Ganun talaga, isa siyang manunulat,” Boss said in one of his signature facial expressions that never fails to make me laugh, then proceeded to tell me stories about one of his friends, also a PUP alumnus, who did such and such and then I forgot who I was talking to earlier.
The next time you open the subject of writing perhaps it won’t hurt to ask if you’re also interested in the craft. You’re probably the first person in the floor who asked me about my writing.
Oh. I almost forgot. The very first person who did was my crush in the escalations team.
We were gathered in front of our supervisor’s station. Boss was asking the team who’d go to the basketball tryouts after shift.
“Hindi po ako makakasama eh.”
“Sama ka na, kailangan ko ng moral support,” you chipped in.
“Oo nga ‘no, ‘mora’l support! Hahaha!”
“Sama ka na?”
“Uwi na ako eh.”
“Uy sama ka na, para may lucky charm ako.”
“Lucky charm? Parang keychain lang?! Hahahaha!”
“Kailangan ko ng swerte ng medalyon,” you replied, referring to the necklace I was wearing.
I held the pendant of my necklace up while laughing, dismissed you altogether and pretended to be preoccupied with what’s on our supervisor’s monitor.
But we can’t get closer than what we are right now. We can’t even be friends. You know very well the reasons why
1.) the ultra-jealous Erin consistently hovering over us….