Silence

In the depths of my solitude I remember a moment, one second in one night of one month in the summer of 2006. A man who had a new iBook had just learned how to upload songs into iTunes, and has already rummaged through all my audio cds in my apartment looking for albums that he might like. And then while we were waiting for iTunes to finish copying the last group of songs, he pulled me onto his lap, embraced me, and asked me, "Anong klaseng pagmamahal ang gusto mo?" ("What kind of love do you prefer?")

I could not answer. The moment froze into hours, years, eons of stillness and quiet that not even the strongest of storms could stir, but in my mind there was only one thought reverberating, echoing like a mantra: This. Like this.

And then as the months went on, I realized I didn't need to give an answer after all, because it seems like he knows exactly what I need, have always known, and will always find a way to be the one to give it to me for as long as he can. Just like this.

Happy birthday, my love.