I found HIM here

There were only three important reasons why I decided to work in the UP Diliman Main Library. One was that I needed a tenured job where my brains will be in constant fire of and for information. Two was that I wanted a relatively pollution-free, stress-tolerable, and literally a walk-in-the-park workplace. And finally, I wanted to pursue graduate school for free, and I can only get that privilege from here. This Library was my specific prayer for these specific reasons. The motivation was really just for career's sake. 1999 was indeed a very good year for me, as God finally blessed me with it...and among other things I didn't really asked for but secretly wished for in some other days.

Every day in my life in the library was different and the same year in and year out. I do get bored at times, yes. But I look forward to going to work ninety-eight percent of the time and am grateful for this job one hundred percent of the time, that's for sure. It was here where I gained weight (for the record) in a matter of two years. And it was here where I walked into circumstances tied to personalities -- the interesting, annoying, scary, and the winsome -- unintended.

Being seated at the control desk at the entrance of our department (General Reference) has never been my thing. If only I could avoid it, I would. But during my early years at work, there was never a week that I was not on duty up there. So was my officemate (kumare and good friend), Gene. Between the two of us, however, she was the vigilant, unintimidated and indignant one built for the task. In fact, she made quite a few friends with some students coming in and going out of the Section, just by checking on their IDs.

GENREF 2003. With Binsent, Yani and Ate Shau.

I got used to Gene's sunny (but firm -- you don't want to mess with her) disposition while she's planted on that desk, that when he stopped by one day to greet her, I did not enigmatically find his encounter with her ordinary. For the first time, I was drawn to that popular but least favorite desk, wanting to join in with them. I figured that if he's friends with her, it will be most likely that he'll not get bored with me. I do have this thing with clicking cliques when I see one, and I felt that that was one instance. Credit it to modesty, I waited until we were formally introduced. He just smiled (or did that smile ever go away? his eyes were always chinky) back at me, and we were strangers to each other no more.

The following days went by at nature and routine's dictates, push-paused occasionally by a few remarkable episodes. Just like one afternoon (or was it in the morning? I don't quite remember) when I saw his familiar face yet again, not at the control desk where I used to meet and greet him, but in here filling out that long sheet of paper that would make him a member of my Library for the next four semesters to come. Thankfully, library politics was on my side and with that power bestowed upon me, I took him away to -- where else? The General Reference Section. He couldn't say no. But would he, had he had the chance? Why would he say no? He'd be working alongside with the bests of all bests. Like I said, library politics has its extended powers and it's all on me.

Truth be told, it was not romance that has sparked my interest for this person. I saw him as a young man brimming with gaiety and a promising future, and all I ever wanted was to be infected by his gleefulness. I found joy seeing him joyful. This fondness that I had for him eventually meant bringing him over for free Sunday family banquets, spend break periods at work together, and tagging him along with me at practically everywhere I go. He was not the first and last I "adopted", though. I had other alipores (i.e., Filipino slang for posse, my version of tag-along guys) before and after him, but it was only him who "has risen in the ranks" so to speak, way above all my other "adopted brothers". As a matter of fact, he became a brother no more.

Two years later...

Manuel caught me several times sending marathon emails to him, and had been pestering me as to who (name) gets these battery of mails and who (role) he really is. If he only knew that I was in a dilemma myself regarding the other who (role), I'm sure he wouldn't quit the bugging just the same.

Plastered on my tack board was a complicated map of the Brussels transportation system. I intended to master the web of routes and interchanges, but after staring blankly at it (as usual) one cold night, I stood up, drew my heavy ceiling-to-floor curtains to the side letting in the moon's pale light, caught a glimpse of the well-spent 2/F communal dirty kitchen, surveyed the black roof of the student home and finally, went to bed. Whatever happens tomorrow, I shall tell Manuel and Orlando, and anyone of my classmates who'll dare ask, that Vincent is his name. I slept wearing a sweet smile on my face.

The next two years...

The green grass was dry that late December afternoon. I received a good scolding from him for being late...AGAIN (hehehe). After swallowing my platter of mild nagging, I crossed my legs and sat down right next to him. Judging from the empty yoghurt drink stuffed inside the disposable plastic bag, I figured that he had been sitting there for quite a long while when I got there.

The Main Library building's east wing was in full view from where we're at. We were secretly ridiculing a young father building a small tent for his son a few good feet away from us, safe from earshot. But my ears heard from him something that pulled my lips into a big smile -- reminiscent of that smile I wore to sleep two years ago in my cold Belgian quarters.

It was the approving smile.