"jamila, let's go."
"go where?"
"don't you trust me?"
"...yes, i do."
"come on then, take my hand."
and i remember. the lazy way the sky let her hair fall across the earth. the muted fire of the sun as it sank below the clouds. the gray that hung over everything, threatening to burst open and cry.
this jacket. it was a dark denim, that smelt like my father. i was lost within the folds of this thing, i must have been so much younger. i had glasses that forever slipped off my nose, about to fall apart at any moment. yes, i was much younger.
and we were running. sometimes you leading, sometimes i. but you were always holding my hand. i can remember. the sweat between our palms, your shoulder brushing mine. and laughing. you were always laughing.
and the sky finally tore itself apart, and the gray fell. like dying butterflies, rushing towards us. the rain was heavy, unforgiving. i complained about my hair, throwing a glare at your back. and then you turned around, and pulled the ribbon from my braided hair.
"let's race the rain, jam."
and we danced. jumping from puddle to puddle, our school shoes soaked and our white socks turning black from the wet leather. sometimes when you ran, and aimed for a puddle, my heart would stop. i felt like you would fall right through the black water, and disappear. that the rain would take you away, and i'd have to race against it alone.
i don't know how long we ran. but it seemed like forever.
and then we finally stopped, throwing ourselves to the wet grass. lying back, i could feel the damp dirt between my fingers, under my nails. watching the rain fall, like a song of the clouds. i could hear the water slamming into the earth, as if the sky was beating an ancient rhythm into the ground. i remember closing my eyes, and letting myself melt away into that song.
"i'll never forget today."
"i'll never forget you."
"promise?"
"promise."
and i can remember. rushing back up and running again. and i remember looking back, throwing my arms wide, waiting for you to catch up. "You said we'd race the rain!" I cried, opening my mouth wide enough for some of the rain to slide against my tongue, "you said we'd win this race!"
and i laughed your name, and it sounded good on my tongue. and you looked at me with such kind eyes, eyes made of laughter and gray rain. but i can't remember your face. and your name still lives in my throat, and is made of wet denim jackets and wet grass. but i can't say it out loud.
but i can't remember you.
i can't remember you.
"we won jam! we won!"
and you held my hand again. our fingers buried in this jacket that's far too big for me. and you lifted me up, lifted me high into the crying clouds. and the rain falls behind, defeated by young and fragile hearts. i can remember how your shoulders felt beneath my trembling hands. i can remember how the rain ran through my hair and down to touch your cheeks.
but i can't remember you.
i can't remember you.
and here i am now. older, and not that much wiser. a crazy girl who still runs through the rain. and i'm staring out this window, staring at the rain. listening to that same song, that we danced to before.
but i can't remember you.
i can't remember you.
and i'm glaring at the sky, a warm hand on a cold glass pane. i'm watching the gray speed past, running faster than my memory. and i'm watching the rain fall down, looking for you in the puddles. did you really fall through? did the water swallow you up, angry and bitter from our childhood victory? where you ever real? what am i waiting for? what am i doing here?
and i want to remember you.
i want to remember you.
i'm waiting for your name to fall out of the gray sky.
i wrote this barely a month or two after she left the philippines, two years ago.