Five Centimeters Per Second

You used to know me like the back of your hand. Now, I doubt if you still know me at all...

I'm not used to watching you from a distance. We've always been beside each other, hands intertwined, inseparable. At least that’s the way it was five years ago, back when we were still compulsorily clad in khaki pants and chequered skirts.

Do you still remember?

After classes, we would walk around the entire campus, hand in hand, unmindful of the snoopy glances and the occasional jealous glares from one of your many admirers. Our teachers even used to tease us a lot, but we knew better. "We're best friends," we'd say. Sometimes even simultaneously. What were the chances?

Ah, yes. The well-rehearsed retort to a most recurrent query.

I can still remember how your hands turned moist at the warmth of mine. We must have been holding hands for a long time. Then again, we never took notice, much less glance at our wristwatches that always seemed to take forever to lead to 6:00PM—time for us to say goodbye. Time, as if caught up by our public display of mawkishness, always stood still.

Innocence sure worked its way up to our heads, didn’t it? We were just best friends. That fact seemed so undisputable that back then, the thought that my feelings for you could go beyond friendship was inconceivable.

I had a crush back then. You had a boyfriend. We spoke of each other’s weepies. That seemed to be a perfect set-up.

Then, the inevitable happened. We had to separate for college. You said you were going to Manila to study. I wanted to come with you. Did you know you were one of the main reasons why I even considered braving my parents to go? Aside from wanting to pursue the course that I really desired, I also wanted to make sure that we would regularly hang out—watch movies on weekends, talk about how difficult our subjects are, watch some concerts, attend my recitals—you know, regular best friend stuff.

Alright, you got me. I just couldn't help being possessive of you, if you know what I mean. It isn't everyday that you get to call someone your "best friend". Distance might just cripple that. So I guess I didn’t want you to have a reason to find a new best friend. I was scared you will. Maybe you have. I wouldn’t know. I don’t want to know.

Of course, you know what eventually happened. My parents won me over and I got stuck here in the province. But I never forgot you. Never. Naturally, I made new college friends. Some of them even wanted to take our friendships to a higher level. Best friend, that’s what they wanted. I never gave in. You are my only best friend. By then, we only saw each other every semestral break—sometimes, even not at all. I didn’t mind. You were still my best friend. My ONLY best friend.

Distance may have toyed with us. But time never forgets.

Just last year, I woke up to the unthinkable. At first, I could not believe it. Neither did my close friends who thought it was just a cover-up. I must have underwent every stage of denial imaginable, but it was still there, and I was sure it was true. By the end, it was too overwhelming that it was already irrefutable.

I was already in love with you.

I was so scared. Surely, I could not tell this to you. Our friendship is a treasure that is dearest to my heart. I could not bear to lose my only stronghold. I tried to shake off the feeling, hoping it was just some sort of delusion, praying it was just my mind playing tricks with me.

But it stayed—persistent up to this day; enduring up to this day. To my condescension. To my beatitude.

This feeling remains ever so strong, that despite what is slowly becoming of us, it remains steadfast.

Physical distance may have caused us to “grow apart”. I guess it’s a natural occurrence. You don’t want it to proceed, but it happens anyway. Just as the cherry blossoms that were once in full bloom—seemingly eternally bound to the tree—in due course falls off and lands to the ground at the rate of 5 centimeters per second, so must we—seemingly inseparable with our hands locked together as we sauntered the entire expanse of our former high school—face the looming reality that we are, actually, “growing apart”.

It doesn’t matter that we barely communicate with each other anymore, much less tell each other of our whereabouts. It doesn’t even matter that you might have already found a replacement for me as your best friend. It doesn’t even matter that you don’t think about me anymore.

Because even if I just watch you from a distance…

I will love you just as much.