One day I will look back at this incredible week of my life and and I want to remember every single moment that happened.
It was a stormy season in my life story. I was in the lowest point in my life that I even question God, “Why is this happening to me? What did I do to deserve such horrible mess?” Every single aspect of my life was falling apart. It was the saddest of all the saddest crap I’ve been through. And I was wholeheartedly decided to give up and send myself home.
It was a Sunday. My Aunt called me the day before to have dinner in her house because she knew exactly how devastating my life has slowly escalated. So I was there trying to pretend that I’m having a relaxation time when in fact I was massively broken inside and out. I needed some fixin’ to mend a major damage.
We had a good meal inclusive of motherly effective advice she instilled in me. She told me her story by way of example. She arrived in Dubai with nothing but a tiny bag of basic clothes she needed to wear, penniless, and clueless about the future. But she was determined to knock out all the adversities in front of her. Because she wanted something great to happen to her life. So she pursued to support herself against the struggles. In the end, the moral story that she wanted me to get was that I should keep my shit together and stay. Going home would be the most stupid move given that a lot of people were dying to go here and in a way I had it easy.
Since I looked up at her so much, I considered trying to change some major perspective of mine in life. I settled down on the principle that I’d stop resisting and fighting against the current. Instead, I’d let the world beat me all it wants but when I’m done and couldn’t take it any longer, I’d go home without any inkling.
I went home still kinda defeated and with blurred direction in life. I rode the train looking absolutely like a hot mess. My head was spinning and I just let my feet do the work to find my way home.
I reached the bus station that would bring me home and as usual whenever I’m thinking quite deeply, I would sit on the 2nd floor in the very front of the bus. I was ready to put headset on my ears and drown the world with music like I do under normal circumstances when a guy asks me if the sit beside me was reserved. I shook my head no. Thank God for that supermarket’s brochure because it made way for us to begin a story in the chapters of our lives.
I could remember he was the one who initiated a conversation. Short talks began and I wasn’t really expecting it to grew into a huge sensible topic especially in my current state. But the world has a kind way of turning things around us. He told me he’s looking for a job and it was his 16th day in Dubai. He was so enthusiastic and excited for everything that I told him all the brightness inside of him would kind of fade once he started working and see the flaws around him. I explained to him I was exactly that kind of person 5 months ago, when I first landed here and believed it was a place that could consistently make me happy.
We chatted about the basic information about ourselves. Then everything shifted to him being hopeless and wanted to go home. I told him in a heart beat that I also felt it before when after few days nobody dared to call me for a job interview but things will get better once the doors will open up again right after the Ramadan celebration. I could sense that he still felt kinda down so I gave him an unsolicited advice out of nowhere about the fact that he’s already here, he made it in here, so he might as well bring out his A game and try a little harder. I didn’t know of course if that aggressive advice of mine helped but I hope that it did. To solidify my encouragement to his low morale, I told him the tale of how many days it took me to find a job.
I had this feeling inside me that I wanted to get to know him more but as I grew older I’ve trained myself enough not to get attached too much with people so in my mind I was thinking that once I got down on the bus, it would all be over and that was pretty much it. Fortunately, he was the one who asked for my number and I could tell that he was a little worked up about it. I gave it to him without hesitation. After that we pursued our conversation feeling somehow comfortable then with each other.
The bus went up on the bridge and I knew we would have to say goodbye eventually. I wished I could have spent more time with him at that time but I know we have different realities to face as soon as the trip would be over. So I forced my thoughts to sway under the premise that we exchanged number and that was not definitely the last time we’d see each other. My bus stop arrived, I patted him goodbye, and left.
I walked home reassessing my life. An hour ago, I was 40 percent determined to fly back in the Philippines. Then, I met a guy who wished to do the same but for some weird reason I advised him not to. It’s funny how sometimes our words of wisdoms work best to other people.
I looked up at the sky. I thought I lost every aspect of my life. It would be really difficult to validly explain and defend myself with the conclusion that I got, but I got save that night. I believe that meeting him was destiny. God or the universe brought us together because we needed each other at that point in time. We could have missed the bus or rode on different timings but of all the coincidences in that night, we sat beside each other. That incident alone gives me more reason to believe in fate.
He changed some element in my present. I have no idea about the future. I don’t know what he feels exactly. He is a complete stranger to me. But I would always remember that time when our paths crossed and I would be thank for that. Whatever happen to us in the future whether we end up in totally different places, I’d be forever glad for that one special time we had. And I hope that he is too.