Love Story

A+K

There are times when I fancy myself a hardened cynic who rolls his eyes at anything too adorable or blatantly virtuous. And there are other times when all that cynicism vanishes and I’m nothing more than a wide-eyed innocent, weeping at a fastfood commercial that hits just a little too close to home.

Today I’m feeling closer to the latter.

I’ve said before that I think it’s a beautiful thing when friends find love. It’s even more amazing if they find it in each other. This is the story of two of my friends, who did find love. And I’m happy I had a tiny part in making it happen.

(They may find it embarrassing that I’m writing about them, so I will call the guy A and the girl K. I know, it’s not much of a secret if you know me and my friends, but for everyone else, I guess you’ll just have to guess).

I never thought A and I would hit it off as friends. We like the same music, but that was pretty much it. He likes sports, especially basketball, and, well, I don’t. There wasn’t anything else that I could consider common ground, but I guess a shared fondness for singer-songwriters and their ilk is enough to base a friendship on because, over 10 years later, he’s one of my closest friends. I don’t think there’s enough drama in my life that would qualify as an after-school special, but in those instances when there was just the barest hint of spectacle that might qualify as drama, he’s always been there, and I appreciate him for it.

K, on the other hand, I met through common friends. She used to go out with a colleague who died. I can’t forget a conversation we had on the last night of the guy’s wake, when I told her I had a dream that the guy hugged me to say goodbye, and she gave me a hug, too. I think that’s when I knew we’d be friends. We haven’t hung out as often as I’d like to, but we’ve always been on each other’s periphery, seeing each other during the occasional barkada get-together. And she’s been witness to the mighty highs and depressing lows of my previous and current, actual and pseudo-relationships, always dispensing critical advice and basically just being there as a human sounding-off board.

I can’t remember exactly when they met the first time, or when I first realized the potential of an A-and-K pairing, but what I do remember is that when it hit me, I knew it made sense, like Coke and hopia, red wine and steak, or Friday nights and two pizzas (the Joey special, natch). When I thought about the two of them, I could hear the turbines turning and I knew something would click. He’s the quintessential good guy, a bit clueless sometimes, but always with the best intentions. Think Archie of the comic book series, only with dark hair and a Honda Civic (oh excuse me a new Ford Escape na pala) instead of a red jalopy. She’s a Betty-and-Veronica hybrid, full of life, perpetually smiling, but with just enough of a mean streak so you don’t even think about taking advantage of her kindness. Physically, it was an almost even match (I’d give her the slight edge, though, sorry A), but mostly I thought her free spirit, childlike wonder and intense passion would work well against his generally laidback demeanor, openness and incredible generosity. Besides, they came from the same school, and cheered for the same collegiate basketball team, so really, it was a no-brainer.

But it was not to be. Well, not immediately anyway. That initial night-out to go see the gig of a favorite local troubadour went well, from what I remember, but for some reason, nothing materialized. Like a science experiment that needed time to mature, the relationship wasn’t instantaneous. Those cheesy lyrics from that cheesy Melee song come to mind: “All of our friends/ Saw from the start/ But why didn’t we believe it, too?”

Melee's "Built To Last" 

It took five years since they first met for something to happen. I am not exactly privy to the details; K tells me that she just woke up one day thinking about A, in THAT way. Perhaps there is no specific answer; love moves in mysterious ways and all that drivel. But that initial tiptoeing finally progressed into something concrete. Something real. We all used to go out as friends, casual, easy, but now, the two of them were side-by-side, arms around each other, fingers interlocked. They think we don’t notice: the whispers, the loving looks they give one another, but we do, and while our friends (including me), give them a hard time, with constant jokes and eye-rolling, I hope they know we couldn’t be happier for them. Me especially.

It’s so easy to be cynical about love. But the truth is that almost everyone is looking for it. We may raise our eyebrows or stick our nose up at the latest romantic comedy on the big screen, or scoff and say “Eeww!” when we see couples holding hands or kissing in public, but really, whether we care to admit it or not, I think that’s coming from a place of envy and resentment. We want that, too. A and K have it, and if anything, their story reinforces the belief, that maybe, hopefully, it could happen to us, too.