From the get-go, there already was that unspoken kinship. And it’s not just because our respective school publications shared one room. In the first place, Timmy Potenciano was already hard to miss, much more ignore deliberately. Even before we started talking, we’d already take turns overhearing each other’s wisecracks and reacting accordingly, if only with just mere chuckles. Lo and behold, we wound up following each other on LiveJournal, where we learned the true extent of our wavelength.

We stayed connected past graduation, thanks largely to social media. Outside of that, we neither crossed paths again, nor engaged apart from the occasional FB Like. Then came the 10th of January, 2015, when she messaged me this query: 

“Yoohoo! You read tarot, right?”

Good thing happened to be free the next day. 

++++++++++

As any practitioner would vouch, it’s not advisable to read one’s self. Not that it’s impossible, mind you. But you see, I always likened it to pulling petals from daisies and alternately asking whether so-and-so loves you or loves you not. It’s never conclusive and, well, that’s a lot of wasted daisies. Truth is, it takes another party to convey an unbiased, unfiltered, and un-edited interpretation. Timmy has always been one of my OG go-to’s in that department, and it all began one balmy Sunday afternoon. 

It’s been 10 years since our fateful reconnection and, effectively, 10 years since our friendship entered new depths. Surely, that needed to be celebrated. And that we did last week, with an overnight stay in Picasso. And, it’s now officially the most time I spent in that boutique hotel. 

It was more staycation than party, really. But it was spent doing the very thing that bonded us in the first place – with exchange sessions and lots of cartoon references tossed in between. One thing you should know about our inner children is that they aren’t just very much alive. They’re most rambunctious when in the right company. 

+++++++++

Sunday morning was for our respective activities. Timmy took a stroll in carless Ayala Avenue, while I scoured Valero for coffee. After we had brunch at Cartel, I managed to visit the art gallery on the third floor. Come check out time, we both agreed: “Well this was bitin (insufficient)”, but not that it mattered. We both still had groceries to do. 

“Hooray for adult friendship”, I thought, as I loaded my bags into the car.