Who Present, Past, & Future sees"
---William Blake, "Songs Of Experience: Introduction "
Kiko and I were chatting one Friday afternoon talking about plans for the weekend.
"So, are you going out tonight," Kiko asked.
"Well, I'm in the mood… for dancing… romancing…," I replied, laughing.
"Perky??? So, how will tonight be?" he said.
"Tonight? Tonight is all about possibilities," I declared. "How a certain glance can lead to a dance. Or how a simple kiss can turn into bliss."
"Romantique," Kiko dryly commented.
"But on a serious note, being single is all about possibilities," I said. "Puedeng super perky ka with your friends, you turn around and you suddenly meet some cute guy. Or, an old friend you haven't seen in years. Or, some boy you slept with. Or, an ex-boyfriend."
"Do you expect all these possibilities? Or do you make them happen?," Kiko replied teasingly.
"At least one of them will happen on any given night," I said.
"Ex-boyfriend… That leaves something in the lips… or tongue… or mouth… or throat…," Kiko said, laughing aloud.
"Well, depende sinong ex," I said. "Ano baaaaaaaaaaaaaa Kikooooo."
"CHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Kiko screamed.
My talk with Kiko got me thinking: Do single people focus more on the future, hoping one day Lady Luck smiles at them and gives them the best lover they never had? Is it about who you might meet at that party, at that club, at the bookshop... the sheer randomness of life we strive to contain?
David Sarasohn, an associate editor of The Oregonian in Portland, wrote in an essay published in The New York Times this:
Being single is all about the future, about the person you’re going to meet at Starbucks or after answering the next scientific compatibility questionnaire.
Being married, after a certain point, is about the past, about a steadily growing history of moments that provide a confidence of comfort, an asset that compounds over time. What you share is what you’ve shared, and measuring your communal property in decades puts you in a freakishly high bracket.After ending a relationship, my conversations with my friends revolved all about what we had, what I lost, what we had gone through, the memories we had, how beautiful it was.
I tried to relive the past all over again, stubbornly refusing to let go, step into the present and welcome the future. But after a while, the future does begin to shine more brightly than the past, the life-not-yet-lived calls you more urgently than the life-already-lived.
Because the future is really, all about possibilities. Who knows when Cupid will strike again? Who knows where it all begins? Or, where it all ends?