(written on august 2 at gloria jeans coffee shop)
i am here at gloria jeans coffee shop. people are minding their own business, while i sit here starry-eyed.
let me give you a backgrounder first.
20 hours ago, i was with my college blockmates, getting wasted on goldschlager and tequila rose.
15 hours ago, i talked to someone over my mobile phone for three and a half hours. i got high over countless stories, over a voice like no other’s, over a sweet buzz reminiscent of the movie elizabethtown.
6 hours ago, i burned money through shopping and salivated over shoes.
1 hour ago, i was with a visionary sharing with me his practical but innovative business plan.
now the main story:
15 minutes ago, i was given one of the sweetest kisses ever—more adventurous than the kiss stolen from me by my playmate, more lovely than my first kiss. this kiss i got was one of the most compelling ones i’ve received. i didn’t know his name, and he didn’t know mine. he was a 10-year-old-looking boy with Down syndrome. i was minding my own business when i saw him going up to his sister (this i assume) and his friends neck-deep in their medicine books. as if he owned their time, he started going around the table and giving each one of them a kiss.
afterwards, he made a beeline towards me seated at the next table. his lips were all puckered up, i remember. i welcomed him, his arms enveloping me. his lips were smooth and a bit cold from the airconditioning, but it was real, what he gave me. i felt he was the only person who mattered at that very instance. and then, just as quickly as he came, he was gone after a flurry of apologies from his guardians.
now, i’m here just enjoying the time, all starry-eyed because of a single kiss. i remember the tag of the movie one fine day: “she was having a perfectly bad day… then he came along and spoiled it.”
isn’t that something?