The writings on the wooden posts

The cold September breeze making its way through the cracks on the window sill tonight at work probably brought about by the Ber months(or i guess more of the Typhoon Mario) seemed to have been pushing me to write something. The OPM songs coming from my phone added more to my craving of being able to share something else.

Uhm.. Here we go.

There were four girls who discovered some writings on a nipa hut by the hill one day. 

JK.

Haha. I was trying to make it more appealing. Nevermind. 

Srsly. This one's real.

It was one sunny afternoon, when we climbed that hill and found an old nipa hut on top and a grotto. The place was green. The view was great with a perfect sight of the city and it's nearby town. It was not as if the place was kept in secret. We were not the first one there, so obvious by the vandals of every sort(although the place was not meant to be a freedom wall) so vivid, covering the wood, like tattoos on a skin. 

Some of the writings were...

"I miss him."

"I sure you, the next time i come back..." and so on and so forth.

And at some point during that time i'd totally agree, that two writings i read were meant for us to find no matter how gramatically incorrect and wrong the wordings were. Still it made a lot of sense for one, If not for all of us. 

We spent a few minutes there, mused over things and as the sun bid goodbye that day, we vowed to not go back to that place again until one of the statement becomes real. 

That was something we held on to. It was a pact we made for fun but somehow it made a lot of sense. It meant a lot more than those words written on that nipa hut atop of the hill. 

We went back i guess 6 months  after, it was still there like the first time we saw it, the place wasn't as green as it was due to the change in climate, the hut looked older and would soon give in. The pact was not yet fulfilled but perhaps we needed reminding so it led us back there.

After that, We never went back again. 

I don't know when will we be able to visit the place again. Maybe the next time, there'll be no more crying. What were written there would already be a history we'll all finally laugh at. 

As i try to dig in my head that first moment we went there... I cast a smile.

I assure you, the next time i write about it, it's done. 

It will all be finally over. 

To them.

To her.

To me.

Until then, i'd Have to live with that for a while. 

-nat