And the sinking feeling starts.
You should have been here.
You should have shown up that weekend. I waited for you to message me and to pick up the phone when I called you up that Saturday afternoon, but hours passed and there was no response from you. I stayed in the entire evening, still waiting, as I comb back through my memory how you said you’d be here.
If you had showed up, it would have felt like all the stars in the sky had just aligned and I’m the luckiest guy in this world. But you never did.
On the next day, I spent most of the time in the shower in hopes that the cold water could at least numb me from the pain. There in the bathroom I let the water ran from the nozzle from my head down my body as tears streamed down my face, and I tried not to fall apart as I hopelessly cried, “He said he’d be here.”
Dad, you said you’d be here.
We were going to meet for the first time in forever. I was going to show you my favorite spots in Quezon City to hangout so you would get to know me more, and you were going to introduce me to my half siblings from your first family so I could feel to have a family again. And we would have spent the weekend as if it wasn’t going to end.
I honestly don’t know what happened. Everything seemed so perfect. What happened, dad?! Did I say something that put you off? Was I out of line? Was it because of the way I speak or the way I use punctuation marks in my text messages? Did I say something way too honest or too gay that made you run and hide? Because you said you’d be here. What changed your mind?!
Did you forget everything we had talked about? Did you forget how much I missed you? Did you miss the part when I said how immensely happy I am that we found each other? Didn’t you mean when you said you wanted to see me too? Didn’t you mean when you said you wanted to make up for the 24 years that you been gone? I thought you meant all those words. Now I’m not so sure.
I know people disappear and these things happen, but I remember how excited I was when you said we’re finally going to meet on the last weekend of April. Ten weeks now and I’m still reaching even though I know you’re not going to respond because I believed you when you said you’d be here.
You should have been here and I would have been so happy.