Untitled.

The waiter was cleaning up the plates of salad on
our table and replacing them with dishes of the
main course when she walked in. I looked twice,
just to make sure it was her; after all, it's been ten
years. It was.

There she was, my ex. Just like that, she walks
back in to my life, and now, suddenly, my brain is
flushed by memories of her, and us, and how
much I loved her.

Of course, ten years could do so much, and she
looked a little different now. She had grown her hair
long. Back then, she often talked about how she
wanted to grow her hair long, and how beautiful
she'll be then. She was right. She looked like a
goddess as her long black hair further accentuated
her flawless mestiza complexion.

Her face hasn't changed much, her lips were still
as red as I remember them, although that's
probably helped by the lipstick she now wore. She
had very light make-up on, which woul! d give you
the impression that she put it on just for the sake
of putting it on. She definitely did not need it.

She was wearing a blue dress. A smile appeared
on my lips when I remembered how much I
enjoyed shopping with her. It might seem odd to
guys out there, who find shopping with their
girlfriends boring, but I really enjoyed shopping with
her. My favorite part was seeing her in all those
dresses, and looking at how great she looked, and
then telling myself how lucky I am because she'd
be wearing those dresses when we go out on a
date.

But she was the only girl I really enjoyed shopping
with, I became like all the other guys with the other
girls. I was bored to death, and I no longer did that
with any other girl.

She was in the company of another girl and a guy,
who had permed hair and wore make-up. I guess
it's safe to assume that the guy was gay, I mean,
the David Bowie look isn't exactly hot right now.

I really didn't care much for e! ither of the two,
because my attention was pretty much focused on
her. I couldn't help but notice her smile, which was
still beautiful but definitely different. It was the
smile of a confident woman, only flashes of which I
saw back when we were still together, when the
smile of a self-conscious but sweet, giggly girl was
the smile she wore on her face. Her eyes were still
the same, though. They were big and brown and
they'd grow bigger when she gets excited.

Her eyes were beautiful, the prettiest one I'd seen,
and there's just that tinge of melancholy in them,
which seemed to tell you that she could burst into
tears any moment. She could look at me with
those eyes, and I would just melt.

I was the one who walked away. I could barely
remember the reason now, but it was probably
something that seemed so big and important then
during that time, but would seem so silly and trivial
now looking back.

The only thing I could remember about that night
was that the! re were no stars in the skies. I don't
recall the look on her face then, probably because
I never looked, probably because I was too scared
to look.

Oh, and it was cold that night. It was very cold. It
probably rained, and I probably got wet, but I'm not
quite sure.

To tell you the truth, I never really got over her. Up
until now, I still keep that locket she gave me then,
one that had a picture of her when she was only
thirteen years old. She told me she put that
particular picture in the locket because she looked
so sweet and beautiful when she was younger.

Of course, I thought this was ridiculous, because I
thought she was the most beautiful girl to me at
that time. And the sweetest, too.

I remember, during my OJT the summer before my
senior year in college, I'd make sure that I was
alone during coffee breaks. I'd make sure that
absolutely no one is around me. Then, when I was
sure enough, I'd take out the locket and stare at it
dumbly. I'd see ! that sweet young girl, and I'd get
excited because I know I'd see her soon, and then
everything else in the world wouldn't matter. I still
keep that locket in a locked drawer in my house.
And yes, during rare moments, when I am
absolutely sure no one is around me, I'd take out
the locket and stare at it dumbly.

I guess that was the reason why I never came
back to school after graduation, not even for a visit.
There were just too many memories, too many
places we went to, too many people we know, too
many times when I sat there and held her hand,
too many moments when I looked into her eyes
and talked about forever.

There was a time soon after when I hated myself
for loving her so much. I had a hard time sleeping
every night, but pride of course prevented me from
asking her back. The thing about it was, nobody
knew. Everyone thought I was strong, and each
time I went out, I was out there with a smile.

There were too many things to do, too many
parties, too much schoolwork, too
many girls to keep me busy, and I kept myself
busy. I was determined not to
think about her anymore, but it was very difficult.
But I did it. After a long time, I just became numb.
Sure I wasn't thinking about her every second, but
the moment I stopped that, I was sure a part of me
died.

Finally, dinner was over and dessert was being
served. I gather all my courage to walk over to her
table and say "Hi."

"Hi. Oh my God, Paulo, Paulo Coronado. I haven't
seen you since..."

"Yeah." We haven't really seen each other since
that night I walked away.

"So how have you been? It's been so long..."

We exchanged some more pleasantries. It felt
great seeing her, again looking into her eyes after
all these years. I would have held her hand, I would
have stayed there forever, but I knew I had to go
back to my table where my wife and two children
were waiting...

Perhaps I know it is man alone who laughs;

He alone suffers so deeply that he had to invent
laughter.