As children, we planned our lives out as if it were as simple as choosing between the rusty seesaw or the worn-out swing at recess. We drew images of our future with every color of the rainbow stacked neatly inside yellow Crayola boxes and sealed the deal by linking our pinky fingers together and solemnly vowing "peksman, cross my heart and hope to die".

Even at a young age, I was already sure that we would eventually live together in a messy, cramped dormitory that was surprisingly decorated in a similar way as your Polly Pocket Dream House and go to the same college. Of course, there was no doubt in my mind that the fact that we would have different professions would be no problem. Our offices would obviously be conveniently located within walking distance from each other so that we could take public transportation together in the mornings and evenings and also have lunch together during our break like we were still sharing our packed lunch in grade school or overpriced iced coffee in high school.

Many details in our story used to change as we grew older and our interests varied. The posters on the walls of our future dormitory room went from the Spice Girls to Westlife to Stephen Speaks while the college that we planned on going to became located farther and farther, until eventually we were both positive that we would go to a University in New York. Even our career paths had bends and kinks in the road - we switched options in our lines of work so frequently that it was hard even for our over active imagination to keep up. I wanted to be a psychologist one week, a journalist the next, while you considered tourism and weighed its pros and cons against the competitive field of HRM.

Throughout all of this, our friendship remained as constant as the goto wth egg served at the Canteen or the sermons Ms. Gatchalian gave during assemblies in the Social Hall (Hole). And even now, as I ponder on how differently our lives turned out from our plans, I know that I can give up the dream of working closely together or even forcing our future children to be best friends, too, just as long as our friendship remains non-negotiable.

Because right now, as I lose everything else, I realize that there are a few things that I can still count on. And I'm happy that what I have with you will always be one of them.

Labels: dearly beloved