I was reading an issue of the Reader's Digest when the phone rang.
I nonchalantly picked it up.

"Hello?"
"Hello?" the caller from the other line said.

Involuntarily, I sucked in air. I felt a partial vacuum being created in my chest. I held it in for ten seconds, ignoring the fact that my narrowing chest cavity was violently crying out for fresh oxygen.
I remember the first time this happened to me. The phone rang, and my little brother ran to answer it.

"Ate Kim, phone po!"

I ran over to take my call, though I didn't know who it was. When I spoke to ask who was on the line, it was you. I was surprised...too surprised that I drew in my breath quickly. How did you know my number? You asked somebody, you said. I asked you why you called...if there's any problem. You never called me, and I always asked this question to first-time callers. "Wala lang...bakit? Nakaka-istorbo ba ako?" you asked. I immediately said no, you weren't. I was just surprised, that's all. That started our conversations on the phone. Our talks like these went on for about two months.

Then almost every afternoon, I found myself catching glimpses of the phone, hoping that it will ring and it would be you on the other line. And finally, when it rang, I would run to get it. I can't really remember how often you called or how long did each conversation last, but it didn’t really matter to me. Although you didn’t call me that often, I was happy everytime you called to tell stories of what happened to you during the day, your family, our classmates, to ask about homework, past lessons or just about anything, even about her. Once, you even called me to ask her favorite color, because her birthday's coming up. But whatever topic we may have talked about, I never really did mind. I didn't feel any pain nor did I grow tired of your stories. You called to talk. And that’s all that matters.

And for once in my life, I felt special. Although there were other people you called to talk to, I was very glad that you still thought to dial my number and talk to me. I guess that made me feel that way. I felt very happy that I was your friend.

Then there came a mess, a mess that I underestimated. I thought that it was just a little thing until it reared its ugly head. It turned out it was a very big thing, so big that when it swept over, it changed everything. It even changed me. I chose to keep quiet. I chose to stop everything, because I knew that it would make the situation worse. I knew that you chose the same thing…at least I thought you did. I chose to take everything that happened in my system. I had to force myself, because my brain was telling me that it was the best that I can do…for myself to spare me from trouble, from pain. When the long boring afternoons came back, I realized how much I missed your stories. I realized how important those were to me. I realized how important you are.

I stood there, clutching the receiver. I felt my lungs screaming for air, and I gave in.

"Hello, good evening po…"

I recognized your voice. All came crashing on me. Everything came over me in a rush, and I didn’t know what to do anymore. Deep inside, I was panicking, but my brain was telling me to stop, relax, and to ask who’s on the line.

"Yes? Sino po sila?" I asked, trying to contain myself.

"Si Mike po ito…pwede po bang maka-usap si Mareca?"
"Mike?" I surprisingly asked.

"Opo…bakit po?" he said, as if reading the tone of my voice.

"T…te..teka lang, tawagin ko, ha?"
"Sige po, salamat po."

I put the receiver against my palm and called Mareca.

As I was clutching the phone, I realized how much I wanted to talk to you again.

I realized how much I wanted to hear you and your stories.

I realized that I didn’t want to hear about you from others’ mouths, but I want to hear about your life from you.

When Mareca came to take her call, she saw my face. She stared at me and asked, "Anong nanyari sayo? Sino ba yang nasa telepono? Bat parang namaligno ka?"

"Wala…si Mike, nasa telepono…napagkamalan ko…akala ko kasi ibang tao. O," I said as I handed her the receiver.

I walked away, and I laughed at my mistake.

"Akalain ba naman daw na siya yun? Batil ka rin, Miles no?" I said to myself as I picked my Reader’s Digest to resume my reading.

I know it’s weird…but at that instant, I felt like crying.

Our conversations mattered to me, no matter how nonsense or short they were.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Hello, good evening po…pwede po bang makausap si Miles?"
"Ako to, o, anong meron?"
"Wala lang…alam mo ba…"