How?

                 I met this guy, younger than I am. That night I saw him, I know there's something on him. The khaki jacket, the clean pants, blue shirt, his not short but not-so-long hair, the braces, I know there's a man for me behind all those material things that cover him. I wouldn't know. But his image, the painting of a man, though soaked in sweat, still looked so pleasant. He seemed to smell good and that got me on my knees. My weakness.
              We were introduced by a common friend. Our hands connected to give a shake. His cheek on mine and mine on his to give a kiss. I couldn't take him off my mind.  In just a day, I got a lot of information about him. Yeah, I think that proves that I am a real stalker. :)
                We met again. We were not friends so I didn't talk to him as he did not, but we had no choice, we're in the same group and we were in a get together so we talked. I've heard he's boastful and date a lot of girls. Some says he's somewhat weird. He's boastful but not too bad, just for fun and he admitted it. He used to date a lot of girls and he said those days were over. I wouldn't know. He's not weird. he's funny.
                   We sat beside each other. Endless stories flowed together with drowning alcohols. FUN. Laughter and all the 'getting-to-know' things were at our hands. He was on the hot seat and I felt him trembling with fears with the dare he didn't want to execute. I held him on his shoulder and squeeze it to show my support. I can feel that he was frightened so I made a move to get him out of the situation. I threw joke and the dare was ignored and turned into laughter. I asked if he's okay, he said 'no worries' and held my hand. He held it as how we hold a friend's hand - palms closed. After a while, he moved his hand and held me like a boy holds his girl's hand - fingers crossed. I did not know what and how to react. I just felt happy. We were holding each other's hand under the table as we laugh to everyone's joke. We looked in each other's eyes and smiled. I, then removed my hand. I want to make things move fast, but not as fast as that. That night was happiness.
               The next day, while the rain was pouring and as my friends and I where busy drowning ourselves in the alcohol (once again), I receive a message asking where I was. I said I was in the apartment. It was him. He asked where my apartment was and before I could even send my reply, I had an incoming call that said 'andito ako sa labas'. I ran outside, neglecting the rain. And there he was, standing outside the gate of our compound.
               His eyes, his chubby cheeks, the braces, the smile, how could I ever forget? His hand on mine. His cheek on mine. How could I possibly not smile? I, his. He, mine. How?