Tuesday, September 21

The Waiting Game

By DAWN DANIELLE D. SOLANO 

photo by MARLOU JOSEPH B. BON-AO/THE FLAME

A rock has eyes. I should know, for I have a pair. 

No one recognizes me, not even you. I, on the other hand, know you well. You have passed me numerous times yet have not spared me a look. Well,  I am nothing but a rock on the ground, waiting for you to stumble upon me again. 

I know you by your smile.

You have one for every occasion: one for when you ace a softball match even though you were bad at it, and one for when the cute athlete across the field took notice of you. Yet, the loveliest smile I have seen you wear when you are with friends. 

I know you by your stride. 

Sometimes, you walk faster than the wind. You check your watch every five seconds to see how much time is left before your morning class starts. Then, you huff in frustration when your damp hair gets in your eye.

However, most of the time, you walk slowly. You take your time laughing and bickering with your friends as if it were your last. 

Indeed, you had no idea, and that makes the two of us. 

The pavement that once glistened under the light is now layered with cobwebs and dust. And I sit here, thinking, “Where did you, and everybody else, go?”

Still, I am glad I have seen you do all those things. For now, I wallow in the waiting game, wondering when I will see you do them all again. F

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