Superman

In some days that I feel like I was Clark Kent, I would randomly talk to strangers and have a good conversation. I'd do it while in a waiting shed for fear that the rain would invade the insides of my shoes. That would be bad, wouldn't it? It already moistened my eyes with tears and I wouldn't allow it to wet my socks.

In some occasions, I'd do it inside a jeepney when there's no one around, except the driver and me. I'd talk to a lady, and ask what time it is, and she would answer me with ease. My personality would limit my relationships to few, and discourage small talks even with people I see every day. By experience, I drain when I befriend almost every people I know.

Maybe because when you tell me that someone's tardiness is your pet peeve, I would remember you each morning that I'd be rushing for a flag ceremony, and I'd be upset at myself for failing you. It happens. All of it, without your knowledge.

And maybe because when you feel sad, I'd drop everything just to give you my ears. Because from the past, I have known that my ears are afraid to be alone, they listen only when my heart release its fears.

But I don't get to be Clark Kent every day, so I'd miss you, but will never ask how you are doing. I am dying to know how you juggle your work with the graduate school, but I won't ask. Because I am simply me, and my thoughts are not in line with my actions.

In days that I don't wear an imaginary cape, I think it's enough that I'd save myself and just let this feelings escape.