Yesterday, I woke up to an empty bed. Again.
Working in a office like mine pretty much does that to you. It's been an amazing experience, but you begin and end the day all by yourself.
Even to a married guy like me.
So a phone call is sometimes like sex in the morning before a coffee table with no coffee, no table, no sex. And no, not in the morning. I forgot, it was 1 pm.
"Sorry, nasa meeting ako."
"Ah ok. I called just to let you know I'm up."
"Alright, will call you later."
I let that lingered a bit by letting her put the phone down first.
The sheets were pretty plain. I didn't even need to fix it. Other than most of the pillows that were pressed to the corners, there's not much to see.
So I went downstairs. On the floor right beside a rickety crib was my one year old. Crazy little critter, he's the source of warmth and light in this house. He runs around in drunken fashion, it's funny and scary at the same time. He is bound to hit his head to something, like the TV. Yeah, that's probably ok. We need a new TV and I'm sure he's gonna be fine. Some crazy beer buddy once told me kids need to get their heads hit to know which hurt and which doesn't. That happened to me. And I'm sure it happened to you, too.
Around two hours of playing with that bundle of energy, watching him run around and throwing away random objects on the floor and bumping on the wall, I got back up to get ready for work. That's family time in capsule form. Quick to swallow, quick to dissolve.
And thus it began once more. 9 to 11 hours of the same thing. It's not bad really. It just makes me miss a lot of things, important things.
Last night, my drive home was like a slow agonizing march. Sugarfree at 2 am couldn't have been more painful, more real.
Back home, after freshening up, I quickly went down to the kitchen. My wife and the crazy little thing were both asleep. I'd just wake them up if I stayed in the bedroom while I force myself to sleep. And I was hungry.
The rest of my night was with Robin Sparkles. And Neil Patrick Harris. Yeah, heard that dude's gay. Like you didn't know.
I heard footsteps from the stairs just four episodes after. I didn't see the sun shining, and she wakes up around this time. In what seemed to be her voice in sleepwalk mode, she begrudgingly said, "Ano yang pinapanood mo?"
"Uhm, Yan, How I met your Mother."
"Oh, sabi mo sabay tayo manood."
"Di ako makatulog, e."
"Andaming movies dyan. Ako rin, tatapusin ko na yan pag wala ka. Labo mo."
And she stood right beside the TV where I was hoping our son would knock over so we could replace it. And she spoke no more.
I have not seen her in two days since. She was awake and speaking. And probably mad.
I just had to turn the TV off. Not because she was pissed. But because she was beautiful at 6 am.
She wore her rag-worthy shirt, granny checkered shorts, and morning breath. She was beautiful.
"Sige, ayan na. di ko na papanoorin. Sorry."
Warm hugs probably come best in cold December morning petty arguments. I take whatever I can get.
1 year ago