WAITING FOR A MOMENT

“Excuse me, is this seat available?

“Yeah, sure. I’m not waiting for someone.”

Never had in my life I feel the same way as today. Well, I just meet a stranger. The cold breeze under the moonlit night gives me such goose bumps. I have to cover my shoulders from my shawl thinking about the bad looks of the stranger too. He sits alone, something so curious to see. The passengers are looking at me as I sit beside him.

Today is in the fourth of July. It is Friday night so I travel back home from my work in the city. My Mom and my little sister are waiting for me. My feet will always step for me to go home for their sake. I bring fresh strawberries for them as my present.

The long travel really feels me exhausted. It is already twelve minutes past the hour of eight in the evening. The night, however, is good to me on such “chancing moment’. I get acquainted with a nice guy whom I thought first is a stranger.

We accidentally met halfway at the bus station. The last pack of strawberries I bought is actually his order. The old vendor told me to buy it hurriedly, thinking the first one who ordered it will not come back for his payment.

Thinking my own curiosity, I assume he is a psycho. He is looking at me with those thoughts in my mind. He is smiling as if he can read my thoughts. But I smile, and there it starts.

I closely talk with this unfamiliar guy. He has good sense of judgment, and I like it. I just had a conversation with someone without hesitation to any fear or lies. I can sense that he is true to his words anyway. I, admiring the kindness of this guy, starting to feel something in my heart.

“Thank you for sitting with me, talking to you gives me a good feeling. I’ll see you again.”

He needs to drop-off for another vehicle to ride on his way home. He left me, but with the promise of searching. He will see me on that precise day of our town fiesta. Soon, on that exact day. I hold on to his comforting words though there is no guarantee that meeting him is fate itself and not a mere coincidence. I forget to introduce my name, he either. I look at the moon and something tells me to not worry. This particular moment creates hope to my every days that someone will love me for real.

“I’m home.” surprising Mom and Kate.

“Oh, dear! We’re happy you’re here! Have you eaten dinner? How’s your travel by the way?” Mom asks.

“Well, it was fine. I met…”

“You met who?”

“Oh no! Where are the strawberries? Oh! I left it on the bus!”

Thinking about the left strawberries, I remember the guy suddenly. Inside my room, there is longing I cannot understand. Looking at the desk with my laptop, I open it trying to search him on Facebook. It is almost midnight, but the lampshade beside my desk is still bright. It lighted brightly as I am fascinated by a great feeling. His face appeared on my notifications. A smile from within forgets my drowsiness. Ken Matienzo, this guy’s lovely name sent me a friend request. I did not expect him to find me knowing that we have not exchanged our names. This guy is really amazing.

We start to chat with mutual feelings sensible in our words. I maybe assuming, but my instincts says it all! The clock chimes at three in the morning. Yes! We pass this hour of time just simply chatting.

Waking up thirty minutes after eleven, my Mom urges me to eat my breakfast. “No, it’s lunch already!” says my hungry tummy.

“You must be really tired from your travel.” says Mom.

“On the next Saturday is our town fiesta. Would you like to invite some of your friends and co-employees, Geneva?”

Hearing this matter realizes me of what Ken has promised. Mom’s question keep rumbling inside my head that I choke on the food I ate instead.

I sleep again in the afternoon. I want to regain my strength before traveling back to the city. Before leaving on the following day, Mom asks me once again, “Who did you meet in your travel?” I told her everything that happened, but something inside her tells me to never hope for him in my life. Mom did not respond anything, but I can feel it. Ken is still someone who used to be a stranger to our eyes.

Once more, I feel the hot temperature of the city. The inhaled gray smoke from the air, and the sound of a horn from the cars polluted my body’s system. The continuous vibration of my cellphone suddenly makes me upset. I grab it from my bag and an unknown number kept calling me. I open my phone and after knowing that it was Ken, I hurriedly open my chat box. “I’ll come. I’ll introduce myself to you and to your family.” This chat from him makes me flattered. He just responded to my invitation, but it is like an approved proposal for me.

There is no day exception for our online chats. We keep communicating each other. Whenever I have free time, I take a chance to send my message to him. I always reply to his chat even I am inside the bus, or inside the comfort room, or outside the street. These settings explain how special Ken is for me.

“Thanks God It’s Friday! And it’s Payday!” says my fellow employee.

I travel with so much gladness inside me. The rain pours down heavily just like my love falling only to him. The day after tonight is our town fiesta, and so I am excited. I know I will be seeing him once again.

The roosters on our neighbor’s backyard start crowing. I wake up early to help Mom cook for our dishes. We have fresh meat, chicken, vegetables, and fruits prepared for the different menu. I cook my specialty and flavor it deliciously. A pervasive aroma with love I feel made the dish appetizing to eat. 

At almost twelve noon, some of my Mom’s friends arrive. They are having lunch as I wait outside for Ken. I chat him online, however his not active. Patiently waiting for him, I start to feel numb. There are colony of ants beside the topsoil I am standing near too. So I go inside concluding he will not drive his way here.

I eventually mourn for a grief feeling I have for him. Two years later, I receive a message request from an unfamiliar person. I doubt to respond for I said to myself before, “Never entertain a stranger again.” 

There are many garden-fresh fruits captivating my eyes as I walk in the street market. I stop in one of the stores to look for my favorite strawberries. Asking about the cost, a theft take out my sling bag from my left shoulder. The people around heard my shout as I start to run after the theft. Causing my adrenaline to work, I almost get a shoot from his gun. I am still lucky it did not happen because another man bump and punch the theft with his strong fist. No exact word can describe my feeling on the situation. The robber just run away as he sees the man in rescue.

The heroic moves of this man saved my day. I thank him over and over again. He asks for a walk as his compensation, and I feel so odd. At some time later while waiting at the bus station, he utters statements that made me speechless. “I know you. It was me who sent a message request. I waited for you to accept it, but you didn’t. I guess you really have forgotten me.”

He left walking on his own way. Suddenly, I realize a very familiar scene. I come to think of the same moment with a stranger on the bus two years ago. I roam to find him immediately, but unknown faces from different people are the only visible in my eyes.

Entering at my dim bedroom and looking at the laptop on my desk, I remember how the first meeting of Ken has affected on me. I consider to open it again and find his Facebook account, yet his name does not appear anymore in my search box.

Recalling the prior situation with the unnamed man, I open all requested message on my account. There was him, really. Kenneth is his name. He waited for me to connect with him.

The morning sun rises early at quarter before six. I wake up and start to fold my blanket. Suddenly, I heard a small talk outside my door. As I open it, this song surprises me, “Saeng il chukha hamnida, Saeng il chukha hamnida…” Mom and Kate greet me a ‘Happy Birthday’ song which they learned from their Korean language class. They know I like that song being sang in Korean. The cake with its lighted candles they hold in their hands symbolizes their immeasurable love and care for me. I blow it with a wish beforehand, “I will still hope and wait for the right man to love me in God’s plan and perfect time.”

I have a birthday lunch celebration together with Mom and Kate. As I am still preparing for the cake to slice it, my cellphone rings suddenly. A man with a baritone voice sings the Happy Birthday song. Dad at Germany calls to greet me on my very special day. He starts a video chat to see Mom and Kate too. Pretty smiles as they resemble great happiness are seen on our faces. My 25^th natal day is already complete, spending the whole time with my dear family.

While having the video call, a notification pop-up unexpectedly. “Can I call you now?” Kenneth calls for this moment. “There are a colony of ants here. How long should I wait for you?” “This man is truly amazing!” says the pretty girl inside me.

The warm temperature of the weather gives me the feeling I always want to feel. I am outside the house seeing him meters away from me. A rapid beating of my heart is felt inside as he is nearing to me.

“Kenneth, what are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry to fail you on my promise. You waited for me, but I didn’t show up. I was really about to go on my way here. I drove at low speed as I crossed the town’s gym. There were a number of people. A drunkard bumped into my car and thrown a bottle to my windscreen. My face was injured from the shattered glass. I undergone surgery after that…”

“Ken? Please don’t apologize. You didn’t fail me, you showed up now! Yes, I waited for you. And I was mad because I feel brokenhearted. I waited for someone whose feeling is not certain. But over the years, my heart keeps saying there is someone I should keep fighting for. And it’s you Ken! I never hold grudges at you. This is what I learned about waiting someone I am subject to love for a lifetime.”

“I love you, Geneva. I long to wait for this moment of time.”

This is the story I shared to the stranger while chatting folks on our individual life business waiting for our turn to drop-off to our separate destination.