Hard To Live In The City

I have always loved the city. Growing up here, I have always taken it for granted until I started going to school in Los Banos. I started to miss the city, the bright lights, the traffic (who would've thought?), the shops and the people. Since then, I've always made sure that I will love the city through all its ups and downs - the same way the city loved me all these years. It's unconditional.

I have always loved talks about the city. The events, the parties, the gossip; poems of Conchitina Cruz inspired me. The city inspires me. I see people LIVING in the city, and when I say "living", I mean life. I see life here; and it's buzzing with so much energy, so much hopes and dreams, so much passion. I don't think I can explain how much I love the city.

Then, here comes one of those nights that I really am in the city, living the city life like everyone else. After the fashion show, we decided to do some clubbing but we got bored at Opus so we transferred to Amber. It was boring too, but it reminded me so much of those rich kid shows where they just hang out and throw away some cash at a bar. People there seem to know everyone; and as I sat there with my friends, watching them while sipping lychee martinis, I remembered Jerry.

I remember Jerry with a certain fondness that you can only extend to a stranger. Sometimes, I wonder how a complete stranger could have such a magnetic effect on you. Knowing myself, I refuse to acknowledge the poetry behind this - it is the first step to falling in love. So, I look back on our conversations that night and relive them ala A Moment To Remember.

Jerry is someone who can turn his back on this so-called city - the city that I swore to love. He grew up in the city, just like me, and he can throw it away for a life in an island. Don't get me wrong, I sort of admire that. But in a way, I resent it too - it is betrayal. I used to say that yeah, I can leave here and go to my paradise. I could stay there for the rest of my life, but who am I kidding right? I know I'll miss the city, and that paradise would be ruined for me. I wouldn't want that.

He said, "Come back here because there are things that the city can't offer you. There is no sand like this, no clear water or blue skies, no epic parties like this, nor good music from a cute DJ." I was taken aback. I knew how much he loved his life. I knew how much growing up meant to him, and I think I already know him with just one conversation. But, I wasn't sure how to react. I knew he was right, but I had so much faith in my city that I shoved that thought away. And while in that club, looking at those people, I started to get scared. I was really afraid that he might be right. What has happened to the city?

Of course, it might be the wrong night. It might be the wrong club. It might be the wrong time. It might be the wrong people. There are so many things that could go wrong in that night. It could be that I was starting to miss him, and I could exchange one night in the city for a night with him. It might be that; but no matter how much I love the city, I'd rather blame it than admit that I was indeed missing him.