This is the first time in my life that I have experienced the feeling of knowing a death of a very good friend. I lost a lot of friends, yes. Who hasn't? My grade school friends have moved on with their lives, forgetting the relationship filled with play and childhood dreams. (Well, except once-in-a-blue-moon messages in Friendster.) My handful number of friends from high school have gotten married (news care of Friendster again). We stopped communicating for several different personal reasons which were fine - I could live with those. I know they're alive-and I'm happy knowing that. However, I have never experienced having a friend die on me.
When I opened my Yahoo Messenger yesterday, I was just expecting some spam; maybe a lot since I haven't signed on for more than 2 months. Then I looked at the window for offline messages, there were buzzes and messages from 2 acquaintances from Cebu. They said that they tried calling me but the telco system message said that I'm unreachable--and that Benjie is dead due to stroke. The thought of the message took a while to sink in. I didn't know how to react but my mind was already commanding my fingers to type "Thanks for letting me know.". I told a pal who was beside me about the news I received and that I couldn't believe it. Maybe it's just a big joke. But a thread from Istorya.net proved it was true. I know I was supposed to cry but I didn't, I couldn't and I still haven't.
He was still alive for me. I'm still expecting to see him when I go home. I'm still expecting to have an enjoyable conversation with him over a few cups of coffee. I still expect him to come and rescue me from bad dates. Then we would go to a restaurant I haven't tried, and have the best meal ever. With him, I was confident and secure. With him, I can do anything. I am the smartest and most sensible girl on the planet. I am invincible.
So he cannot be dead. I refuse to accept that he's gone and that there's no one who can make me feel the way he does. I'm inclined to think that he's just in Panglao or Davao for a photography job. He does that all the time anyway, and I'll just expect to see him all dark and sun-burnt. I can't go home knowing that my itinerary for my trips to the city does not include driving around Cebu City with him.
I would like to think that he's still alive. I know I'm at the denial stage. Perhaps I prefer lying to myself. I just don't want to feel that he is gone.
I already miss his whining about his wife. I miss being his shrink and telling him to make a special effort for her. I miss seeing him rushing to my table in Starbucks, all sweaty and panting. I miss how we weave stories about the people we see while having coffee. I miss telling him that he gained weight and he needs a haircut. I miss being in his car while talking about people we know. I miss being his most objective but worst critic of his photographs. I miss hearing his defense on his art and then him admitting I'm right. I miss brainstorming with him for photography or film concepts. I miss him-- Benjamin "Benjie" Ordonez, occasional smoker, pretend coffee afficionado, driving hobbyist, gourmet, photographer, film-maker, father, husband and a very good friend.
I can't wait to see him when I go home to Cebu.
