the first time i stepped foot on puerto galera

Because unlike people, memories stay.

I remember March 2004.

I remember the tormenting bus ride
to the port of Batangas. Carlos and I traded comfort for the improbable chance of catching up with seven of our friends who took off even after we requested for them to wait for a few more minutes. Yes, they did. So the two of us took the earliest bus leaving the terminal. Unfortunately, it was a bus without air-conditioning, a bus with non-cushioned hard wood seats so tightly lined up that there was no leg room. For two god-forsaken hours, our knees were bruised, legs cramped and my head fumed like crazy.

I remember the depressing hours
of waiting for our friends who, by their lack of better judgment, island hopped even when they were fully aware that we were bound to arrive on the island shortly after them. I could do away with the activity. Thing is, they had the key to our room. So we stayed. We sat idly, and waited, looking after our belongings while everyone else was frolicking and gallivanting by the beach side. I was frustrated. I was tired. I was beyond furious. Carlos knew this so he tried to cheer me up but his efforts were wasted because I tend to be extra stubborn when I'm upset. And I was super upset.

I remember the overwhelming frustration
I felt as my best friend and I talked over the phone that night. I recalled the day's events to her – how Carlos and I were ignored from the get go, how we were abandoned while they were out having fun for hours, how Carlos and I felt like outcasts, alienated by our own, and the worst, how nobody from the cast of seven apologized or at the very least, acknowledged what they did. My guards collapsed from utter disappointment. My voice began to crack, and before I knew it, I was crying. I cried, and it made every soul in the room stop and stare.

I remember walking out
and heading to the beach after the call. In a quiet spot, I sat and reflected. I was reminded of what I wrote a few months back - the people whom we trust the most tend to be the ones who will let us down the worst. I wasn't being unfair. Expecting is not unfair. Not especially for something innately basic, like consideration. If strangers can give it, I don't see any reason why friends can't. Or won't.

I remember the indifference
in my voice as I told Carlos to let them take the first boat to the mainland. We took the next one but for some weird reason, we still ended up riding the same bus bound for Manila. It was uneventful but...

I remember thinking
how things will be different from then on. I planned a fun Galera getaway with eight close buddies. I came back cutting seven ties. Without any second thoughts. Without regrets.