She had been so busy surviving that she forgot she had not lived. One night, alone in her room, she asked God for her youth back. The answer came with an old phone number, a man at an airport, and a Christmas that almost felt like home.
I used to call Noel when I wanted to talk about my feelings, but he would not answer my calls anymore. He had moved to another prefecture to pursue a doctoral degree after graduating from our university. We were able to meet twice before he left.
The first meeting was in the university cafeteria when I saw him behind me. We took the same table and he told me about his plan. He encouraged me to transfer with him, saying I would enjoy it there because there were many Filipino students at his new university. "If you only knew," I thought. I never told him what had happened between me and the other Filipino students.
The second meeting was in a restaurant outside the university. I called and invited him because I realized he was not over me yet. I wanted to tell him the truth he deserved to know, hoping the heartache would turn him off. I told him plainly that I was already living with the Japanese man I used to talk about when I was still staying at his apartment — but I quickly added that we were not officially together yet when he came to my place after returning from his country.
He said he had been wondering where I got the money to pay the university, and it was only now that he understood. He seemed shocked. He said he was foolish to have thought about me all the time despite his new family. But we parted cordially, and I believed he was a changed man. When I knew he had already moved to his new place, I called him. I wanted to share my feelings with him because he was the only one I could talk to — and I wanted him to know that my life was not really as good as one could imagine.
I was in my room one day, pondering about my life from childhood. It had been so tragic since Lolo Imo died, and I realized I had not enjoyed my youth. It was then that I asked God to give me my youth back and let me enjoy it. I was in my mid-thirties, and I knew it would not be long before my desire for fun was over. When it was, I promised God to do what I was supposed to do, depending on His will.This prayer — casual, conversational, almost like a negotiation — is characteristic of her relationship with God. She speaks to Him the way she speaks to everyone: directly, honestly, and without pretense.
I was not weeping at the time. I talked to God as my Father-in-law, because I thought of myself as Mary Magdalene, the wife of Jesus. But then I considered how God could grant my request. Which part of my youth did I want to have back?
Kim. I wanted to continue what Kim and I had started.
His brother had once given me his contact number and I knew it by heart. It was a landline at their elder brother's house, so I waited until the evening when he would be home. But I could not press the last digit to make the call. I was not sure what to say, and I was afraid that his wife might answer the telephone.
After several nights, I finally gathered the courage. It rang, and a man answered soon. I asked for Kim and was told to wait. I had remembered the number correctly — he was really there. I had mixed emotions standing by the phone, but before I could change my mind and hang up, I heard Kim on the other line.
He asked who I was, and he was obviously — pleasantly — surprised when he learned it was me. We shared a bit of our lives, but ended the conversation after he gave me his cellphone number and hinted that he could not talk with the people around him. I called him the following day, and every day since then. We would talk far more openly than we used to, and he would look forward to my next call to the point that he would stay on the rooftop of the building where he worked just to avoid being disturbed.
We truly missed each other — and I was the one who could do something about it. Before the year ended, I was on my plane to the Philippines with the stated purpose of doing research for my thesis paper. Mitch took me to the airport by car and would drive home alone.
I was excited to meet Kim at the airport, where we had agreed to see each other. The arrival area was on the first floor, and I tried to spot him from the crowd patiently waiting and joyfully waving at one corner. I kept walking until I reached the end of the waiting area. He was there — blue jeans, T-shirt. He was thinner, darker, and older. He was far from the image of the man I had in mind, and I suddenly felt like running away.
I invited him upstairs to the departure area where I knew there were seats for us to sit down and talk. I told him there was a possibility Mitch could find out, so we could not be seen together. He agreed but asked to take me to a hotel near his workplace, which he had reserved with my consent. We took a taxi and I checked in myself. He said he would accompany me to the room but I need not worry — he would not do anything against my will.
A hotel staff accompanied us to my room and I gave him a tip before he left. Kim carried my luggage inside and sat on the chair by the television. I sat away from him, on the bed, but we were still facing each other. He asked what went wrong and said he understood if I was turned off by his looks. It was his job and his determination to provide for his children that had made him care the least about himself.
I could not lie to him anymore. I asked him to leave the room for a while because I wanted to call Mitch. I felt guilty and sorry for cheating him. I felt even worse when I learned that Mitch had broken his eyeglasses and had to buy new ones before he could go home. I was crying, saying sorry repeatedly, but I knew he had no idea what I was apologizing about. He said he was alright and asked me to have a good time.
I called Kim in after the call and brought out the wine I had bought for him at the airport. I knew he liked to drink, and I wanted some for myself. We drank as we talked until we had consumed almost half the bottle. I would only sip a little, but it had begun to affect me.
Kim was still sitting on the same chair. He had not done anything to take advantage of me, just as he had said. He was quiet at times, looking at me with a smile. Then suddenly he asked if he did not deserve a kiss from me. I approached him and knelt on the floor in front of his chair. I kissed him lightly on the lips, then stood and walked back to the bed. But I felt a little dizzy and lay down on my side, still facing him.
He kept drinking while I watched him. When he noticed I was sleepy, he said I could change and get some sleep. I put on my pajamas and slipped under the blankets. My body felt weak but my mind was awake. It was already night. Kim was still there. I had not asked him to leave, and he must have taken it as a sign.
He told me he still could not believe he was there with me. He said he had named his daughter Maricris — because it sounded like my name, the way my friends used to call me Maris. I told him how I used to go to his neighborhood when I was upset. The feeling was mutual. It came from our long-lost but not forgotten affection for each other.
We stayed at the hotel for a few more days. He would leave in the morning to report to work, then come back later to spend the night with me. I bought things for him during the day at a nearby department store. His hands were too rough and his skin was dry, so I got him lotion. He loved it when I massaged his hands.
His employer later asked him to work at a vacation site in an exclusive subdivision in the suburbs. He was his boss's right hand and had been entrusted with keys to several properties. He took me there with a trusted employee who would not tell anyone about us. The place was overlooking the city and the ocean farther away — a breathtaking view at night. Kim would take me to the best spots to enjoy it with him. We were like a real couple dating.
He was one day running to get something when I saw him like the young Kim I used to see in college. He looked much better now than the man I saw at the airport.
With my children in the province waiting for me, I had to leave him. But he would not let me go by myself. He took a leave of absence from work and went with me all the way — on the bus, on the ship. We were not worried about being seen. We just cared about each other.
He went to his mother's place and I went to mine, but we agreed to meet the following day at the church we used to go to together — for him to meet my children. He came home with us afterward. He was a familiar face to everyone and nobody said anything about us. But he was understandably not comfortable. He found my sister Venus easy to talk to and stayed with her in the kitchen. It was there that he found my trophy and medals from college — placed under the sink. He said they should not be there, and I could not agree more.
Kim spent the night at our house but stayed in a separate room while I stayed with my children. The next afternoon, I asked Junjun to accompany me to Kim's place. He was there with his mother and brothers. Just like mine, they said nothing against our relationship. His mother seemed surprised but glad to see me. His father had died, but he would not have objected — he was the one who seemed to like me the most among Kim's family. I invited them to our house on Christmas Day.
After spending the night at Kim's, I was ashamed to go home that early. We got off the vehicle before our village and stayed by the beach to kill time. After he left, I took a ride to the town and visited Lola Adang's grave. Then I walked into an appliance and furniture shop. I asked the owner if she would deliver everything I chose if I paid half now and the rest upon my return to Japan. She agreed. The house was fully furnished by the time the truck arrived. Nobody asked where I had spent the night.
We prepared for the Christmas party. All of my siblings and their families were present — we even took a family picture in the living room because it was rare for all of us to be together. Relatives from both sides came. Kim, his mother, and the relatives of Miss Fely made it, too. I tried not to make any moves that could arouse suspicion. Everyone seemed happy with the food and drinks. Gifts were distributed and the guests began to leave.
Venus suggested a picnic the next day at the beach closest to Kim's place. Kim's brother brought him to join us. We rented a house that could accommodate us all for the night. We were already in bed when someone called from outside. It was Kim's mother. His family had been waiting for him to go back to Manila. He refused, but she was persistent. She would not leave without him — so he left, and headed back.
We would meet every time I was in Manila. I came back soon for my research paper — for real this time — and returned shortly after that to process the documents for my children to come live with me in Japan. Michael had attended first grade and Unice had just finished sixth. They both went to the same school I attended as a child. Michael was excited to go back to Japan, but Unice was not. If she could choose, she would rather stay.
The school principal was my former suitor from college. We hardly had a chance to talk then, but as professionals, we could discuss everything now. Because he knew I was coming, he made me the guest speaker for the graduation ceremony. I asked my father to attend and hear my speech — an account of our hardships and success. He just said he would try. I did not see him during the ceremony, but I learned that he had gone to the mountain above the school, where nobody could see him but he could hear everything I said through the loudspeaker.The father who once refused to attend her graduation now hides on a mountainside just to hear her speak. He is still too proud to be seen — but not too proud to listen.
I got to meet Kim before we left for Japan. But I noticed that we were growing less passionate as we knew each other more. We were not as eager to meet — parting had become much less emotional. He failed to show up once because of rain, and another time I booked two separate rooms so we would not interfere with each other's schedules. I did not mind paying.
I always made sure that when we were together, his family would not lose any amount of money because of me. He told me he had once talked to God when his daughter Maricris had a serious health problem. He said he was willing to lose me if his daughter would be cured. I would prefer to believe that the real cause of our gradual coldness was that prayer — rather than the possibility that we were falling out of love.
With too many distractions, it took me two and a half years to finish my Master's Degree in Law. Instead of graduating in September, I graduated in March the following year. At the ceremony, I met a woman from the Philippines who had earned a Master's in Economics from a prominent university back home. I introduced Mitch to her as my guarantor in Japan — but I did not think she believed it. In an attempt to avoid suspicion, I told her about my failure to find a good lawyer as an excuse for our not being married. Before we parted, she gave us her contact number and that of her lawyer friend.
The first lawyer I had met and paid kept asking for more money despite filing nothing, so I stopped calling him. The second, whom I met through Venus's friend, took half his fee but then demanded the rest right after filing the case. When I could no longer reach his office or cellphone, I knew he was gone, too.
I wasted no time and contacted the new lawyer. She was willing to handle my case. She gave me a payment schedule and a list of required documents. I had Junjun bring everything — including the money — to her office. When I visited her in Manila, I saw that she worked from her home. Judging from what I observed, I had no doubt she was successful in her field.
I met Kim once more, the day before my departure. While waiting for him, I went to a beauty salon to have my nails cleaned. The woman who attended me looked young and confident. She finished without problems, and I left the place relieved. But by the time I reached Japan, my right big toe had begun to swell. The pain grew worse by the day.
Mitch took me to a hospital. The doctor decided to remove the vertical half of the nail to prevent the problem from recurring. The idea sounded extreme, but I agreed just to get rid of the pain. What I had not expected was the agony after the anesthesia wore off. I went around on crutches for weeks.
Because I could not handle my classes, I called the woman from the university who had introduced the lawyer. I invited her and her husband to substitute for me. They came, and while they were at our place, we talked about my annulment case and other matters. Less than a year after that meeting, my marriage was officially annulled. I had my passport amended so I could use my father's family name again. My children, though, were required to keep their father's surname.
I asked Junjun to have the annulled marriage contract authenticated and to produce a certificate confirming that I was qualified to marry — a document required of a woman who would marry a Japanese man. He sent it to me quickly. I showed it to Mitch. He did not know I had it prepared, and I wanted to see his reaction.
I tried to look unaffected by what he said. My decision not to marry him was already firm — I believed my presence would be less repulsive to his elder daughter if her father remained single. But deep inside, I wished Mitch had said something else. Something different from what he always said whenever the subject came up. He added, however, that he was willing to marry me if necessary — for documentary purposes related to my stay in Japan.
She asked God for her youth back — and God answered with Kim. Not the Kim she had imagined, but the real one: thinner, darker, older, and still naming his daughter after her. Their reunion was everything she had hoped for and everything she feared. It proved that the boy who once watched her from across the road had become a man who would stand on a rooftop just to hear her voice. But it also proved that some things, once paused, cannot simply be unpaused. The passion thinned as the visits multiplied. And when it was done, she returned to Japan with a Master's Degree, an annulled marriage, and a man who called their relationship "shapeless." She had asked for her youth back, and she got it — briefly, beautifully, and with the same bittersweet aftertaste that youth always leaves behind.