My Own Private Cebu

I didn’t want to up this morning. The thought that I’ll be carrying with me the memory of Roger’s loss is almost too hard to bear. But then again I am in Cebu. I cannot have a bad day while I am here. This is like a parallel universe where only good thoughts and good vibes exist. And if Roger can bear the loss, then certainly I can too.

It has been close to two years since I last set foot on this island. My last visit lasted only a couple of days, precipitated by a college reunion that I wish I did not attend. This time, the reason for the visit is the wedding of a good friend, one who considers himself as God’s gift to women, and looking at the face of her blushing bride, at least he’s got one believer there. The bastard has allowed himself to be tied down. Must be love. Heh.

I am somehow filled with regret thinking that I left this place for the glitz and glamour of Metro Manila. True, the financial reward is somewhat satisfying, still one cannot help but wonder how things would have been had I not allowed myself to be blinded by the bright city lights. But that’s just the way it is, if all the good things that Manila offer can be found here, then everybody would want to live in Cebu.

Still, I am saddened that some of those things that I looked forward to while planning this trip can no longer be found, Musichaus for example. I was imagining myself diving face first into it’s dusty bookshelves and finding those books priced at only P5, even the Ding Qua Qua along Mango Avenue has vanished. My friends say that it has been relocated to some other place and I can only sigh in nostalgic sadness.

The loss of certain monuments to my ordinary past, and the rising of several structures that beckon me to explore them only serve as testaments to my lifelong love affair with this city, with Cebu, my own private Cebu.