home           about           blog           archives           domain           exits           ask

betcha by golly wow

I was listening to FM radio while studying a while ago, just like I always do, when your song came along. At this point, I shouldn't be surprised anymore. Chancing upon 96.3 Easy Rock means there's a likelihood I'll hear a song you love to sing, because that's your default radio station. Actually, that's the default station of everyone in your generation. (And, of every office I've ever been in, as a matter of fact, haha.)

So I shouldn't be caught off guard anymore when the first few notes of "Betcha By Golly Wow" start playing. This isn't the first time it happened. Three seconds into the song, every time I hear it, and I'm bawling my eyes out.

And yet it's not something I have gotten used to. Not the sudden swell of tears when the Stylistics begin crooning "There's a spark of magic in your eyes..." Not the gasp for air when the chorus strikes and I hear your voice in my head singing along. Not the thought that long drives from Batangas to Manila with this song in the background will be nothing but memories. Not getting used to any of these feelings, even after many months later.

I couldn't bring myself to stop crying; but I couldn't not sing along either. Write your name across the sky, the song goes. And everyday, if I have to - on paper, on sand, on the pavement, on every inch of space I can find - I will. Because your name is home. You were home. And everyday I come to terms with the fact that there's no place like it.

Hey, Tita Gina. I'm alright, I promise. I just really, really miss you.