Ai and I

THIS is the story of how I met my soul mate.

Two days from today, my ex-girlfriend and I will have been married for 23 years. It may sound cheesy but it really doesn’t feel like 23 years have gone by.

We met on a convenient arrangement. She had just broken up with her boyfriend and I was looking for one — girlfriend, silly. We were both studying at Xavier University then. Her Juniors’ Night was up and coming and she had already paid for two.

Luckily, a mutual friend — her batchmate at the college of education and my peer at the Ateneo Catechetical Instruction League — introduced us in the old canteen. Yes, the one to the left of the Immaculate Chapel in the XU main campus.

That time, however, I wasn’t really a boyfriend material. I was really in a bad place. I told our mutual friend that as a disclaimer since I don’t want to be disappointing her friend whom she was doing a favor.

She told me not to be silly and that the date was just so my ex-girlfriend’s extra ticket won’t go to waste.

Sure enough, I was 30 minutes late on their Juniors’ Night. I had just come from a gathering of some friends and had to go home in Villa Ernesto (read: Gusa) to change.

But when I saw her that night. It was really a sight to behold. She was wearing a dress that hugged every curve of her body. She was absolutely stunning.

We slow-danced which was totally useless because everything that night seemed to play in slow motion. Her almond eyes and her vibrant smile was intoxicating.

When the night was over I kissed her good night. I was so not over her for the rest of the month.

A week after, our mutual friend and I held a drinking marathon at the old Caesar’s bar on Capistrano. On a dare, I asked where my ex-girlfriend live. She told me “Consolacion”.

I was already tipsy when I went to my ex-girlfriend’s place. She was already in her PJs with no makeup on. But still stunning.

I told her I wanted to be her boyfriend. Selfish asshat that I am, I didn’t really know how to woo a girl. I told her I wasn’t leaving until she said, “Yes”.

She did give me her “yes”. To up the ante, I told her I wasn’t leaving until she gave me a kiss like what mamas and papas do. She hesitated.

Then she kissed me and I kissed back. Suddenly out of nowhere, her aunt shrieked: “Hala ka! Si Ailynnakighalok diri sa hagdanan!”

My now mother-in-law told me in a relaxed voice that I’d better leave before her husband comes home from a drinking binge with the other village toughies.

I left immediately.

From that time on, we’d have picnics on a patch of lawn beside the ACIL office. Her reading a book while I pester her with my silly songs with my guitar.

Bai, you have been with me through thick and thin — well, mostly thin — and that’s exactly the reason why 23 years feel inconsequential.

Here’s to another 23 years, bai. I love you more or in Latin: Labia Majora.