Dragonstone Tablet

The salty breeze whipped at my hair as I stood on the parola, the small wooden bridge jutting out into the bay. Dumaguete wasn't the bustling city I remembered as a kid, but the scent of fish and seaweed was the same. It brought back a million memories, all tangled up with one person: Gin.

"Reymart?"

I spun around, heart leaping into my throat. There she was, Freddy by her side, a confused look on his face. Gin hadn't aged a day. Her smile, though, was reserved, a shadow of the girl who used to light up whenever I was around.

"Hey, Gin," I managed, my voice hoarse. "Freddy, good to see you."

"Reymart, what are you doing here?" Gin asked, her voice laced with something I couldn't decipher.

"Uh, I just... needed a change of scenery," I stammered. "Been a while since I've been back home."

We all stood there for a moment, an awkward silence stretching between us. Freddy, bless his kind soul, cleared his throat.

"Well, maybe Reymart would like to join us for lunch? We're heading over to Lola's for kare-kare."

Gin's eyes widened. "Freddy, we don't..." she began, but Freddy cut her off with a gentle smile.

"Nonsense! The more the merrier, right, Reymart?"

I couldn't refuse. Spending time with Gin, even if it was strained, was better than nothing. As we walked, I stole glances at her. She seemed happy with Freddy, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes, a flicker I recognized all too well. Was it regret?

At Lola's, the air was thick with the aroma of stewed oxtail and peanut sauce. We sat around the wooden table, the kare-kare simmering in the center. Freddy did most of the talking, regaling us with stories about his work on the nearby farm. Gin mostly listened, occasionally adding a shy comment.

As the meal progressed, I found myself lost in memories. I remembered lazy afternoons spent by the shore, building sandcastles with Gin, the unspoken promise hanging heavy in the air. Then there was the day I left for Manila, for college, a promise of forever whispering on our lips. But forever, it seemed, had an expiration date. Distance, ambition, life - it all conspired to tear us apart.

We were young and naive, clinging to the belief that miles and years wouldn't weaken our connection. But they did. Letters turned into emails, emails into infrequent calls, and then silence. By the time I reached out again, years later, she was already with Freddy. A pang of jealousy, sharp and unexpected, pierced through me. But it was quickly overshadowed by a wave of relief. At least she was happy.

When it was time to leave, I lingered behind. Freddy had gone outside to hail a tricycle. Gin was clearing the table, her back to me.

"Gin," I said softly.

She turned, a flicker of surprise crossing her features before it was masked by a neutral expression.

"Reymart?"

"I..." I started, then stopped. There were a million things I wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come.

Gin sighed. "It was good seeing you, Reymart. But this is my life now."

Her words were a punch to the gut. Maybe she was right. Maybe some things were better left in the past. But as I walked away, the salty breeze carrying the scent of the sea, I couldn't help but wonder what could have been, if we'd only had the courage to fight for our forever. We were young and unsure, afraid to take that leap. And now, all that was left were the echoes of what might have been, swirling in the salty air like the gulls overhead.