Dear
Casper,
With
this letter come all my good intentions (lifted that from The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan).
I
wonder if you remember me. We were
classmates at CSB. I was the guy who
wore white shirt and black pants everyday, the only Benildean with a uniform. I talked to/signed with the deaf.
I
graduated from CSB with the degree AB Interdisciplinary Studies (minor in
French Studies). I am the first and so
far the only CSB graduate to become a physician (according to Mr. George Lu – I
used to run across Mr. Lu in Malate).
I
used to give you penetrating stares of lust.
I was already out when we became classmates in religion. However, I was not yet a gay activist at the
time.
Before
you graduated, we were under one professor in the same subject but in different
sections and had a field trip to Mount Samat, Bataan. By the end of the day, I was with a female
friend at the foot of the big cross.
You, alone, walked to and fro in front of us as though you wanted to
tell me something. I wanted to ask what
was bothering you but decided against it.
After a while, you went down the stairs, turned to look at me for the last time, and walked away (from my life). I followed you with my eyes as you walked
through the green earth and faded away.
I do not recall ever seeing you again.
To
this day, I think of what that meant, what you wanted to say. I think that if I talked to you, you would have
told me off, to stop staring at you. Or
perhaps, you would have tried to be friends.
I guess I’d never know.
I
searched for you in the Net several months ago.
I got two hits but the Web sites were unavailable. I re-searched around a week ago and found an
article with your picture in it.
And
so it comes to this.
Through
the years, I have always felt that you were the one who got away.
Thank
you so much.
I
wish you a lifetime of joy and wonder!
Always,
Robert
===
I
am not sure if Casper ever received the postal mail (sent in 2004). I am sure I never received a reply.
Last
I heard, Casper got married.
The
letter was my message in a bottle, full of wishful thinking and yet intuitively futile.
