"I can't promise that"

Just before turning in for the night, my friend Trish buzzed me on YM. It had been a while since we last spoke or met. She said she came from Chris’ wake, and from her tone I would say she took it pretty bad. She and Chris were from the same batch in high school and knew each other quite well.

Her friend Vida texted her about what her friends knew of Chris’ accident. He had been driving along the Alabang overpass at 1:30 am and for some reason knocked one of the lampposts, ending up on the wrong side of the road. Not the type who would call home, his parents knew about it when they drove at the exact same road at 5:30 am going to Greenhills, bewildered that their car was being towed. The doctors operated on him to remove the clot from his head, but he never regained consciousness.

The infuriating thing about this is, some asshole had the gall to steal Chris’ belongings while he was dying. That’s just so wrong.

Trish was feeling particularly morbid that night and I told her I wanted to see her again in the future, even when we were both fat and wrinkly. She said she couldn’t promise that, which is true I suppose.

Death is a chilling concept, and personally I’m afraid of it. There’s no point running away from it, though, because we’re all doomed to die sooner or later. When it’s your time, it’s your time. Instead of being afraid of death, I feel I might as well embrace all the opportunities I have with my friends while we’re both here.

I’ve lost three friends to death in the last three years. I don’t want to sit idly by and regret not having spent more time with the ones I can still get in touch with.