The Friendship Goes On

Kuya M’s mother was working abroad at that time. The fact that he and his younger brother were given the autonomy to manage their house made it easier for me to penetrate their privacy. The same went with my friends who found refuge in that house at the most lowly times in their lives. Or we were just too young then to be governed by our whimsical impulse.

We had a friendship outside of consanguinity but our aspirations and desperations made us more than like blood-related individuals. We were under the tutelage of no less than our close friends whom we had looked up to as our own and vice versa. There were seven of us, two females and five males who kept our selves busy with budgeting, doing the household chores, maintaining our sanity through animated talks of our childhood memories, the good old days, of pop and rock music, of basketball and volleyball, and of our hopeful dreams if ever there were. Kuya M’s place witnessed the release of our quelled and smoldered anguish, desperation, and frustrations in life. That’s where we found temporary oblivion to our problems with the almost nightly fellowship with cheaply sold liquors.

Kuya M’s dad on the other hand would pay us a monthly visit with some sufficient supply of dried fish, fruits, vegetables and other stuff in spite of having to tend his other family in another city. I knew how Kuya M hated him but he was thankful they were not neglected.

Kuya M has a heart of gold. It would have been easy for him to tell us to go back to our respective homes, reunite with our families, and dine with them so tightening up his budget wouldn’t be a thing to worry but he didn’t. He and his younger brother would often fall short of their provisions because of the additional mouths to feed. But he fairly understood that we needed time to forget and recover and he was so generous enough to include us in his and his younger brother’s budget. In response to his loyal kindness and generosity, I and the others would do all the household chores, help him with his massive homework and school requirements in his third year as a Psychology Major, and sometimes do impossible things just to pinch in with our meals.

After sometime, we felt we were like real brothers and sisters living under the same roof separated by our biological parents but united by the golden friendship we still treasure until now.