Sam and I are in a taxi heading for Robinsons Ermita and this song is playing on the cabbie’s radio:
I could spend my life in this sweet surrender
I could stay lost in this moment forever
Well, every moment spent with you
Is a moment I treasure
And again we ask each other a question that has come across our minds before and have often discussed:
Bakit ba pag adik ang gumawa at kumanta ng love song asahan mong tatamaan ka talaga? Dagdag pa ni Sam, “Imagine-in mong kinakantahan ka ni Steven Tyler niyan, maniniwala ka bang seryoso siya?”
I don’t wanna miss one smile
I don’t wanna miss one kiss
Well, I just wanna be with you
Right here with you, just like this
I just wanna hold you close
Feel your heart so close to mine
And stay here in this moment
For all the rest of time
I wouldn’t mind, I answer. He don’t look so bad. These jaded eyes see past the papain-treated skin and the moussed up hair of these newbie singers, talented though they may be. These ears strain past the sugar-coated grace notes that seem to say “listen to me mama, I sing so good.” Not for me these singers who seem to focus more on perfecting their vocal techniques, no. I want someone who will sing to me from the depths of his being. And Steven Tyler, he reaches out to my jaded soul, takes my hand and tells me “it’s ok, everything’s going to be fine, and i’ll break the neck of anyone who tries to hurt you.”
And no soul could’ve been more jaded than mine, at one point, half a decade ago. Tortured with the angst and legalistic twists of annullment and the anguish of being denied the company of my sons, I was up in my flat alone, down with the flu and pharyngitis and refusing to take antibiotics because they did strange things to me. A doctor who knew my aversion for them tsk-tsked over the phone earlier while I was still at the office and prescribed Strepsils and Bactidol. Another friend called shortly before I decided to give up and go home, and I told him about the Strepsils and Bactidol prescription, but not to worry because there was a pharmacy along the way to my flat.
And that friend showed up, later at my flat, armed with Strepsils and Bactidol, because wouldn’t you know, I forgot to stop by the pharmacy on my way home. And he fed me the lozenges and made me gargle, and put me to bed and I closed my eyes at the sight of him watching over me. When I woke up in the morning he was still there, in the exact same posture as he had been when I fell asleep, watching over me.
And wouldn’t you know, he’s still here with me holding my hand, in the taxi heading for Robinson’s Ermita.
I don’t wanna close my eyes
I don’t wanna fall asleep
‘Cause I’d miss you, babe
And I don’t wanna miss a thing
This is my 100th post, Sam. This is for you.