Somewhere out there

Somewhere out there, there is a field of dreams. We will meet again there.

**

August 2006

She found him lying on the grassy riverbank, eyes closed. She sat down beside him and nudged him, "What are you doing?"

He replied with his eyes still closed, "Thinking."

"Thinking of what?"

"Of you."

In spite of her irritation, she allowed a small smile which quickly disappeared when she noticed that his left eye was looking at her. He smiled and closed his eye again, reassuming his original position.

"Do you intend to run away forever?"

"I am not running now, am I?"

"Then why are you here?"

"I don't have to go away. The sky is blue here too," He sat up. "Besides, if I go away, what will you do?"

**

August 2007

He opened that old diary from 2006 and flipped to that page:

We agreed that we shouldn't stand in the way of each other's dreams.

When I told her that we should cool things down a little, for that moment, I saw the hurt in her eyes. A kind of pain I have never seen before.

Yet, she recovered her composure, and as we embraced for that one last time, she whispered:

Somewhere out there, there is a field of dreams. We will meet again there.

But I think the distance will only grow. That is why I think it is the right decision.

Things will only get harder from now on. It is a fight I have to undertake alone: My fight.

**

August 2007

She was hurrying past the bar when she heard the anthem being played. She stopped and smiled. She had almost forgotten that the game was today. She peered in. On that small TV mounted on the wall, the game was being shown.

She entered the bar and managed to get a seat. Then, she messaged her friend to tell her that she wouldn't be going for the party: there's a game to be won.

**

August 2007

He was sitting alone in the church, with his eyes closed. He felt someone sit down beside him, but he didn't open his eyes.

"So you found me," he said quietly.

"It wasn't that difficult. I knew you would be here."

He smiled, "What were you doing a year ago?"

"A year ago? I was…"

He didn't listen, because the question was meant for himself.

He opened the door to the church carefully and peered in. There, sitting alone, bathed in the sunlight that had streamed in from the stained glass windows was her. As he had expected. He walked over and sat down beside her.

Her eyes were closed, her hands clasped in prayer. She did not seem to have noticed him. He remained silent and watched her.

She opened her eyes and smiled, turning to him, "A year from now, what would you be doing? Would you remember today?"

**

The song was playing. As she listened to it, she was looking at her old notebook, in which melodies and lyrics were hastily scribbled down over the years, as and when inspiration struck. On the page she was at were the lyrics to this song- in his handwriting. He had written it- the only time he had ever written the lyrics to a song. After all, it wasn't exactly his forte. Still, it was a very good effort, or so she thought.

"I am stuck. The melody is stuck in my head, but I can't find the words to it."

He grabbed her book.

"Hey!"

He started writing in it. She just watched on. When he was done, he handed it back to her.

She looked through it. "Your handwriting is horrible."

"Don't complain. Not when I have just done you a favor."

She smiled, "Did this really come out from your head? It's wonderful. Are you a genius or something? How could you possibly come up with it so spontaneously?"

"I am a genius."

They both laughed.

"You have been playing that melody for a few days straight. I am kind of sick of it, so I want to put an end to it."

She laughed, "Anyway, could you sign this off? Maybe it would be worth a lot of money in future."

"Idiot."

"Sign it, dedicate it to me," she thrust the pen to him.

He took it and wrote: For you.

"Write my name!"

"This would do. You know I am referring to you."

"Write my name!"

"Take it or leave it," he ended the discussion by signing his name.

As she recalled that scene, a tear rolled down her cheek. And she realized that since a while back, they had stopped calling each other by name.

As though between them, names were obsolete.

**

On the sidewalk, as the torrential rain fell, he was alone, watching the TV on display.

"En-core! En-core! En-core!"

She stepped out from the curtains, and the cheers grew even louder. She smiled gingerly as she made her way to the front of the stage. She stood there, looking down, holding her mike tightly in both hands. She closed her eyes, as though in thought. Hushes were heard as the crowd quieted down.

Silence reigned.

She looked up, biting her lower lips, exhaling softly. "This song was written by someone. Today I am singing it for him. You know who you are. Wherever you are, I am sure you are listening. Listen to your own words, to your own song. That's what my heart is saying. Every single word."

**

With the 2008 Concert Tour over, she could finally take a break back home. The past year had been so busy that she hadn't had a chance to come home. Not even for the New Year. But she was back now, on the familiar street, on her way home.

She stopped. On the junction ahead was a MacDonald's. Only, it wasn't supposed to be. It used to be an ice cream café. Giovanni's. They always had ice cream there.

"There is nothing like Chocolate ice cream," she declared.

"Vanilla is better."

"Chocolate."

"Vanilla."

She wondered if somewhere out there, vanilla would be the only choice for him.

Chocolate was the only flavor in her heart. Always been.

**

He hesitated a little before dialing that number.

"Hallo?"

That voice.

That voice he had fallen in love with.

"Hallo?"

"It's me," he finally managed.

"Oh. How are you? Haven't heard from you in a while."

He didn't say a word.

"Hallo? Are you there?

"Yeah."

"Hallo?"

He didn't say a word.

"Besides, if I go away, what will you do?"

"I will finally have peace."

"Peace?"

"You know, when kids leave the house, the parents will finally have some peace, after taking care of them for so long. That's the feeling I think I will get."

"But after a while, they will wish the kids had never grown up."

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah. I just miss hearing your voice, that's all."

**

"So what are you doing now?"

"Eating."

"What? But isn't it a little too late to be eating over there?" She adjusted her handphone which was tucked between her shoulder and ear.

"Supper. Well, I am eating instant noodles. That's the saddest thing in the world, right? Eating instant noodles alone at home."

Hearing his reply, she lowered her chopsticks.

**

He was on the flight, headed back home.

"But where am I headed?" he wondered. His eyes fell on the girl sitting across the aisle, by the window. She was peering out of the small window, her face bathed in the sunlight. Why was she on this flight? What did she expect to await her at her destination? Would she find what she was looking for, or would she be disappointed?

And he realized that the questions were meant for himself.

**

He scanned the surroundings. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized her familiar figure sitting on the grassy riverbank. He walked over to her and sat down wordlessly beside her.

She was smiling. A smile he hadn't seen in a while. Seeing it was…like falling in love all over again.

"I said that, didn't I? That we would meet again, at the field of dreams."

She pointed to across the river.

It was the field.

He was running with the ball, pushing it as far forward as he could, running as fast as he could. She was half watching him, half composing tunes in her head, scribbling down whatever thoughts that came to her mind- thoughts that would form the lyrics to their song.

He was lying on the field, eyes closed, relaxing after a hard workout. She was sitting beside him, still deep in thought.

"You know, we are always on the same side of the river," she said suddenly.

They were back again, back to the place where it had all started. A fitting tribute, a fitting finale.

Or maybe it is a never-ending tune; a track on repeat.

Their song. Their fight.

Their love.