Gray is the color of the space that appears when a dear friend leaves. It is the shade of abandonment and the eerie tone before one moves on.
But I didn't think gray is for you and me. Neither is it for Robin and Ed or Tintin and Miranda and the rest of us who together, had the best of times in the worse of times, from the enigmatic mountain along EDSA to the mythical lake of Caliraya.
For how could it be? We laughed and laughed until we rolled over and over. We talked until the wee hours of the morning and waited for 12 to cross another year. We drank rum coke until we passed out and floored the gas pedals until the Crying Cow screeched.
But we all must go to the thirty plus years and leave gray spaces behind. No choice but to quietly accept when a text goes unanswered or an email is ignored.
Who knows? Maybe in rivers where time stops, we shall find each other there - and the gray spaces between us shall easily disappear.
