i remember being a kid.
a kid about 18 yrs younger... i was in Pangasinan. it was Christmas Eve. i remember i barely ate. i looked at the clock, and it was almost midnight. i went to bed and tried to sleep. but I couldn’t. i was too anxious, too excited, waiting for santa to give me my toy. it was Donatello and Leonardo, the last two teenage mutant ninja turtles for my collection. they were gift wrapped with colors that t don’t really remember. it didn't matter, anyway. i just tore through that gift wrap as fast as I could. and i saw my Donatello and Leonardo. i was happy.
today, i'm like that kid again. i can barely eat. and it’s almost midnight. i go to bed and try to sleep. but I can’t. i'm too excited, too anxious... because after eighty days, later, I'll (finally) see you. I am happy.
"see you later" is what we always say. we hardly use “goodbyes.” It's almost always "see you later."
i can't even begin to count how many times we've said that already... how many times i’ve wished "see you" didn't only mean im-ing you "hiii." how many times i’ve wished "later" really meant in a few hours.
today, however, i find that i’m no longer wishing. because today, 80 days in, “later” actually means in a few hours. today, 80 days in, “see you” actually means crossing out things on that list. finally.
i'll pick you up around four three. Okay? See you later.