Two days ago, I cried. Once again. After a long time.

I will not invent a story behind the tears. But I have to admit, it's not about some sappy romantic heartbreaking tale. Nor is it about someone dying. The waterworks didn't involve financial inadequacy, missing people badly and tears of joy.

My mother made me cry. Again.

Another superficial reason was the cause - involving computers - and yet she didn't fail to break my soul, once more, just like the old days, when she used to destroy my self-worth as often as possible. For disciplinary purposes, she always used to say. I cried - no, I wept - my lungs out, harder and more dramatic than what your imagination can provide you. Can you imagine some five-feet eight-inches man shedding liquid from his eyes because of his mother telling him out? It's possible.

After all this time, self-pity might be the only trigger for my tears. But what can I do? I didn't grow up learning to cry on grief, or loneliness, or happiness, or pain, or rejection, or sadness. My eyes were wired only to sob its ducts away when I feel like the most wretched being in the world. My mother made me this way, maybe that's how she shows her love. I don't know if I should blame her and I don't know if everybody is like this, because when you experience being broken emotionally almost everyday when you were a child, you can never tell if it's normal or not. Because in your case, it is.

Someone. Anybody. Please teach me how to cry properly.

I hastened towards her bookshop. All the while thinking how to break the ice.

Upon entering the place, the first thing I did was wipe the sweat off my brow. My eyes then started darting around the room: I saw her, nonchalantly browsing a section with Erich Segal novels. I tiptoed across the cascade of literary works and silently crept up beside her. And, dear God, she looked simply beautiful that cozy, warm afternoon.

Since I didn't know how to begin, I impulsively, jointly agreed with her to start with a movie. We split up the cost (which, eventually, is what we'd be doing for the day's expenses) and selected some seats on Row H. Even if I tried, I cannot recall the full details of that flick; because what bothered me the most was that for the duration of the picture, she was shivering from the cold and I couldn't do anything about it. Dammit. I should have brought a blanket with me.

Anyway, after going out of the cinema complex, she offered me some mint and then pointed us to what seemed like a fountain where you can sit around its circle barrier.

And, we talked.

We sat there for God-knows-how-long - yet I haven't had a dull moment with her. It wasn't the most usual thing to do when you're out with someone; normally you'd be treating her to an ice cream or buying her clothes or carrying her shopping bags. We didn't do that. We just parked ourselves on that pile of tiles and exchanged thoughts.

Around seven plus in the evening, we searched for a place to eat. It was subsequently decided that I'd decide where we would have dinner. After passing through some restaurants with odd names (Is Bigbuddha a Chinese food chain?), we unanimously ended up on the Filipino cuisine-serving Sentro (with the trigger of the place preparing a dish called Sinigang na Corned Beef - sounds so exotic and different, right?).

We were seated face-to-face - and it was then that I fully appreciated just how lovely she blended with the splendor of the night. On our table was that a-bit-too-salty (according to her) sinigang and tasty chicken (we weren't big-eaters). No carbonated drinks for us. Our talks turned to a more quiet, hearty conversation. She laughed and smiled and drank mango juice - it was so delightful. It was also the first time I tasted brown rice ("Wait, is it sweet, like brown sugar?").

With our stomach filled (and our bill settled), we went outside and again sat on that fountain's barrier. And talked some more. And some more. Maybe it's just what we wanted - to open up. We steered our perspectives on education, work, different places, relationships, way of thinking, hilarious trips, growing old versus growing up, fitness and sports, and just about every other thing that got on our minds. There was this couple hugging exuberantly in front of us and she incorrectly guessed that the girl was weeping. We counted the stars - there were about six or seven of them, and she asked me if my eyes were still clear because on my first glance I didn't see any twinkling dot.

After all was said and done, I drove her to her home - a billboard, of all places. Laughs. It had been a nice, sincere day. I never realized until just yesterday how idyllic it was to sit on a fountain with a wonderful woman next to you.


The image isn't by me - I found it on this website and it's the same thing we ate. So I used it as well. Just giving credit to whom it's due.