Work Text:
To my Jumbo Hotdog,
How are you?
I wish I could make this lengthier, but I feel like I know so little of you now.
Maybe I shouldn’t even be writing this letter at all. Maybe I should go back home and wait for you again, like I always seem to do. Wait for you to come back home past midnight, with your wrists raw from cuffs, with blood from your lips and I know you’d come running back out again. Maybe I should wait for you and talk and talk and talk. Listen to you promise again.
All of that, instead of writing all of… this. Whatever this has become.
But I can’t help it. Sometimes, I still see you in the television, in front of your people and I can’t help but return here, just sitting in front of that statue, looking at the water in front of it.
I remember so little, but also so much. I remember the Sunken Garden, walking around, just talking. I remember the library, the difficulty to focus when you’re right in front of me. I remember eating in the cafeteria, sharing ice cream.
I remember running from the CAL Building towards the Math Institute during our first year, cursing CRS for that schedule. Attending the sudden flea markets, looking for little trinkets and you helping me fill and decorate my tumbler with stickers – until now, the same tumbler sits on my desk, the stickers still plastered on its surface, though some have already peeled a little with age.
I remember that after our second year, you got your motorcycle, we went on a road trip we planned for only one day or so. We end up reaching near Laguna de Bay, until now, it feels like I can feel the passing breeze of that day.
I miss travelling with you. Walking along the beaches of Boracay, the colors of sunrise as we admire the Banaue Rice Terraces, and hiking up Mount Apo.
I remember… I remember protests.
Red paint on my hands, along with yellow pigments that make the colors pop against a black background. I remember meetings beside you, holding your hand as they brief us about the situation. They are driving the people away again, threatening to swallow the streets of affordable food with a mall.
There is a march afterwards, with a loud, proud voice that we will not be sold to greed.
“What if we fail?” You only look at me and say that we will try again.
I have always loved your courage, that restlessness in seeing the other side win.
I hold your hand in marches, I hold a microphone to my lips to say our piece, and I accept the water bottle from you an hour later. I remember the heat of the sun, standing beside you and talking about what we will do next.
Sometimes, I miss doing that with you.
Most of all, I miss you.
It’s selfish, but I should have asked you to stay.
A week after graduation, you sent me that message, asking me where I wanted to travel next. So, we visit Bohol, an entire week vacation, visiting all the tourist spots and on the seventh day, into the floating restaurant - it was like everything was just for the moment. The music, the food, the view, and you.
I don’t know how you did it, but renting that entire boat was worth it.
I still remember what you said to me. That things are getting worse and everything will escalate soon. That you don’t know how long it will take or until what extent.
But you show me that ring and I take the chance. Because you are everything I have ever wanted.
But where are you now?
I share your last name and I wear this ring on my finger but our home is empty. It has become so much emptier over the years. Most days, you are gone when I wake and still away when I return home from work.
I think that I now spent half of my life chasing after you when you should be beside me.
Am I a bad person? For wishing you’d take a break from fighting just once and come back to me. Come back to me not just when you’re tired, but also when everything is well and good. I know that I am your refuge and your mercy, but you are the same to me.
For once, step away from that place and come back to me.
In the end, a part of me wished that I asked you to stay out of it. To leave it behind. That we can do something else while still helping, that you can just join me in my organization instead of being part of that but I can’t say it.
Because I know that that is where you need to be.
But I hope that soon, you’ll come back to me.
Because I miss you too much even when you’re in front of me.