III: Between the Smoke and Stars [on everything and nothing]

I’m watching the stars while smoking my lungs out. This has only been my second stick since you said good-night three hours ago. I know, I know. You’ve always wanted me to quit this, I’m wishing upon a star right now. Wishing that I could find the strength to let go of this habit. You know me, I find it hard to let go of things. But, know this, I’m doing my best.

How I wish you’re here with me tonight. The sky is beautiful: there are no clouds above, the moon is near the horizon, the stars are seen at their barest. There’s this one star that blinks with every beat of my heart. Now, I wonder, which is the star that twinkles with every beat of yours? I smile and think about the possibility that it’s the one that sits beside mine.

So, why am I even outside at this hour? Well, to tell you the truth, I’m looking for shooting star. I don’t really know why, but somehow I feel that I’ll be happy if I see one. I find it rare for me to spot one, and call it coincidental or whatever, everytime I do, it’s when something important happens. It brings back memories, both bitter and sweet.

I remember the first time I saw a shooting star, I just came out of the classroom after an overtime. I was so stressed back then, being the leader of an unfinished project due the following day. I was so tired that I decided to lie down on the soccer field for a while. Looking up, I saw my first shooting star. At first I was too shocked, I never thought I’d get to see one. And of all the moments, why then? After the shock settled in, and when I finally came to my senses, the child in me snapped at me, telling me to make a wish. And so, I did, I wished for a perfect girl. Someone who was smart, caring, understanding, and fun to be with. Someone with beautiful eyes, milky white skin, jet-black hair, sweet lips, soft voice, and an alluring smile. I wished for you. And as things have gone, it seems as though the gods heard my prayer.

The next time I saw a shooting star was when we had our first date. I can still remember it clearly, you and I were by the beach, the moon shone so bright that we didn’t need candles. I cooked chicken for that date. It was the first time I got inside the kitchen and did something aside from opening the refrigirator and eating. I can still remember the look in your face when you took your first bite, I swear, even I couldn’t draw your face back then. Hey, you can’t blame me for that misadventure. You never told me you never liked spicy food in the first place. And so, you ended up drinking the juice I planned and prepared for the both of us. My lips were so sore, you couldn’t stop laughing everytime you glanced at me. But, you apologized and offered to wash the plasticwares. I was so happy that night because I shared it with a sensitive girl. While you were washing the dishes, I just lay there by the shore, the way you forced me to, and just stared at the sky. The moon had gone down that time and the whole sky was just an enormous dome with little flickering candles. And one candle flickered with the gust of a strong wind. It created a white stroke that melted into the vast dome within moments – that was the second one, and with it, my second wish – that that moment would be relived someday.

The next shooting star, I find very different from the others. I saw it that one time we were driving home from the movies. It was an ordinary night, nothing special. I came to your house to pick you up at 7 o’clock in the evening, just like I always did ever since I became yours. We went to your favorite restaurant and ate dinner then watched a movie, just like we always did ever since we became each others’. You asked me to drive to the spot we had our first date at, just like you always did ever since you became mine. It was an ordinary night, nothing special save for the fact that you were quiet the whole time. I tried asking you what was wrong, but you never opened your mouth. You just looked at me with sparkling eyes, embraced me and told me you loved me. Your head was buried in my chest, I looked above into a midnight sky. I saw the third one and i wished that you’d get through this and be happier.

And the last shooting star I saw was when I saw you with another guy. He was about ten years older than us. Both of you were outside your house. He held both of your hands inside his. I could see from his posture that he was an athletic person, probably a swimmer with those broad shoulders. From his clothes, I could only draw out one conclusion, he is a neat person: a well-ironed, maroon, long-sleeved polo; a pair of crisp, black, slacks; black leather shoes, probably Doc Marten’s based on the shape of the soles.

I couldn’t quite figure out his facial features from where I stood. But, your face, I could clearly see. Your eyes had the same sparkle when we had our first date, the sparkle that was slowly blurred by the minutes that passed by between us. And your smile, you never smiled that way with me before. He brushed off the tresses that fell upon your eyes, then he caressed your cheeks, then he kissed you. I dropped the pair of sea-shell earrings I held, each shard sparkled with every dew that trickled from my eyes.

Images of the last time we were together flash before my eyes. If I had known that that was the last time I’d hold you, I should have held you closer, until our pulses became one. If I had known that that was the last time I’d kiss you, I could have cut my tongue off, just to preserve the taste of your lips in my mouth. If I had known that that was the last time I’d see you smile for me, I would have killed myself just to freeze your face in my eyes. If only I had known…

I walked away, facing the sky, where another star fell. I didn’t wish for anything, I knew one of you saw it. Its yours, I’m just thankful. I guess my second and third wishes came true.

Know what? Ever since my first cigarette, I’ve seen about seven shooting stars. And, I realized that there are countless shooting stars falling every night. I just had to open my eyes and look for them. But, I would be a hypocrite if I told you that the first one I saw means nothing. The first star will always be remembered, I assure you that. But, it will never be seen again.

I’m just lying here, waiting for the day that you’ll finally tell me to let go of you. Perhaps some things are a lot like shooting stars. They look better just passing through.


~ by saikow on March 16, 2007.

2 Responses to “III: Between the Smoke and Stars [on everything and nothing]”


  2. i’ve read this at the library and like what others said, there are a lot of nice images. and the language is pretty good.

    i like the last 4 paragraphs.
    i hope you could post the last edition you have. i think you can still do a lot with this story.

    “maiyurnus mo pay atoy na entry.”hehe

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