Life is but a dream.

31 December 2007

One of my friends counted ten falling stars on a trip to Boracay last year. Each star made for one wish. Another saw three falling stars from her dorm just last month. Yet another tells me he counted as many as seven hundred seventy-seven metorites (or possibly even more, but he stopped counting at 777 because 7 is the perfect number) last November, 2001. I’ve never seen a shooting star. I used to keep tabs of when meteor showers would occur. I’ve waited up many nights but smog and city lights and the lack of a view from my house always got in the way. And because I’ve never seen a falling star, while everyone else has, I’ve made up myths about it: I think that the day I finally see a shooting star is the day I will find the Great Love. (I’ve made up other myths about my Great Love, possibly because I’ve never seen that either. It’s like in Practical Magic where the girl makes a wish for her Great Love to have one blue eye and one green, and whose favorite shape is a star. The myths are like tests, but they’re perfectly illogical and unrelated. I have one in particular that is simple and impossible to cheat. But it’s a secret.) Buns says there can be as much as five great loves. I said no, you may have lots of involvements, and perhaps several great loves, but there is only one Great Love. When I was much younger I would buy romantic greeting cards, the special and non-cheesy ones, thinking I would save them up and give them to the Great Love when I found it. When you’re young you tend to think the world might run out of these beautiful, sweet greeting cards. I stopped after a while. I still like the idea though. And I still conjure up grand gestures that I would make, if, for example, I were a guy and I just met my Great Love. Last night I was out drinking with two old friends (I think I’ve had more alcohol this December than the last five months put together)- one who was happily married, and one who was happily in love with the woman who’s his almost-girlfriend. (And myself, happily single.) We talked about girls, the economy, and how to raise kids to make sure they would know how to reflect. Cashew wine is apparently not for the fainthearted. There is no moral to this story. There is still no Great Love. And no falling stars either. But it is still great, great fun to watch the sky. Cheers to another beautiful year of myths, loves, and hopeful joy.

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4 Responses to “Life is but a dream.”

  1. bannanna said

    And now let’s shout in unison:

    May 2008 be the year for finding our Great Loves and performing (and receiving) those Grand Gestures!

    Who knows, the sky might just be watching back =)

  2. happycamper said

    *shouts in unison* =D

    sana, sana. =) although i’m willing to wait for the GL kung hindi pa talaga napapanahon. wag lang sana masyadong matagal. =)

  3. unchinita said

    High five great loves, bunny. Maybe I’m easy to please? Everything’s amazing, awesome, Great. When do you know that a particular love IS The Great Love? When is when? Or you know, as that clothing ad says wanting to sound deep and intellectual, how soon is now?

    Cashew wine. Interesting.
    Once-thought-Great-Loves. Interesting.
    A secret Great Love myth. Interesting.

  4. happycamper said

    “When do you know that a particular love IS The Great Love?”
    — damned if i know. =) but i think this trial and error life serves precisely that purpose– so that after a while, you’d know better than to commit the same mistakes, your instincts for knowing what makes something Great become sharper, and of course, you get to appreciate it more (if and) when it finally does arrive. =)

    oh,that particular cashew wine was like, literally rubbing alcohol to the tongue. tayo buns, hindi pa tayo nagiinuman.

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