dummy regressor

It will be two years, five days from now, since one of my best friends imposed a no-talk policy on me for 24 hours for turning down his invitation to go out. As we were so used to hearing updates from each other every now and then, 24 hours felt like eternity back then. At present, we could go on for days, or weeks even, without checking on each other or saying the merest of heys. When we do get the chance to talk, it's like we always run out of things to say even if it feels like there are a lot of issues that need to be discussed. I want to say I have grown accustomed to the new set up but there are times, or whenever I think about it really, that I am indeed saddened by the situation. But change is inevitable; and while the stubborn in me is averse to it, I know that I will ease my way into coping in due time.

I remember my kababatas. It has been over a decade and seven, give or take, since our last Holy Week together. The season has always been the most anticipated event for us. While the end of the school year pretty much signifies the start of summer, for us, Holy Week is that time when we truly feel liberated from the shackles of classrooms and assignments and teachers and more importantly, curfews. In between helping out with simple chores in the kalbaryos, the clique would set the itinerary for the next few days - color coordinate for the Wednesday procession, make pasyal on Thursday and end up at Wendy's Makati Avenue and over a round of Biggie fries and Frosty, debate which kalbaryo is the best, discuss if my cousin, who was my best buddy then, should say yes to our friend who have been courting her, or plan where our summer getaway will be, look our best for the Good Friday procession, then stay up really late on Saturday so we can party and watch the Salubong at dawn.

Indeed, those were good times but then I grew up and realized how juvenile and tasteless my antics with my clique back home were. True, we were cool and popular but we were also mean and vapid, well they were; and that was really all there is to it. It was an easy decision, actually. I had no qualms. I knew that it was time to say goodbye. Anyway, the group was on the verge of breaking up. Unencumbered, I entered high school and I was presented an entirely new world to explore and conquer. But that's for another story.

As I still live in the same neighborhood, I still see my kababatas around. Most of them, anyway. Some, I manage to share a jeepney ride with on my way to the office. Some, I see hang out in our usual tambayan when I come home late at night. We have always been cordial though, and by cordial I mean we are okay with a nod or a simple hey.

In those times or even in this moment, I wonder what would my present be if my past has been different. Would I have looked forward to celebrating this year's Holy Week? Would I have been out there having fun with the gang while waiting for Easter this point in time? If I never said goodbye, would I be a far cry from the person that I am right now?

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.