I don't remember you. I don't remember any of these... I don't remember how it feels... If you don't remember then, we'll start anew. I can't. Why can't you? I don't want to live a life I have no memory of.
The moment I stepped out of the airport a cold familiar breeze swept through my face. Dejavu. I thought. It felt like I had been here before though I know this was my first time. I brushed off the feeling and continued to walk towards the taxi line.
There were a lot of people waiting in line for a cab so I decided to take my mp3 out and began to listen. I was halfway lip-syncing to the chorus of Rihanna's Umbrella when I felt a tug on my shirt.
I turned around to tell off who ever it was but was surprised to see a little boy about 4 intensely staring at me. His expression was a mixture of longing and confusion. I gave him a weak smile and went on lip-syncing.
I never got to finish the last line of the chorus when I felt another tug. I wheeled around to see the same little boy still staring at me. I looked around to see if he was with someone. Seeing that he was probably lost or something since no one was beside him, I took the earphones out and kneeled making our eyes level.
"Hi! Where's your mommy?" I asked him.
His response was quick but not a single word came out of his mouth. His little arms were instantly around my neck and I was wrapped in a heartwarming hug. I could not understand what I was feeling at that moment that I hugged him back in return and could not bear to break free from his hug.
"Shinichi!" A deep male voice called from behind me. The little boy's hug seemed tighter by the minute.
"Shinichi! What are you doing?" The same deep voice asked in Japanese. I was surprised that I understood what he said. I did not even know I understood Japanese.
" Shinichi!" The voice called out again. This time I knew he was right in front of us seeing a pair of feet right before my eyes. That was the only time I realized that maybe the little boy's name was Shinichi and this was his companion. I broke free from his hug, held his hand.
"I'm sorry. I ... he... he.. . just started to hug me..." I started.
As I held out the little boy's hand to the guy in front of us, our eyes met.
His eyes widened three times its normal size considering the fact that his eyes were that of a typical Japanese.
"I'm sorry... is... is he your son?" I asked the guy not mindful if he even spoke or understood English. The guy in front of me just continued to stare at me. His eyes showed the same feeling as that of the little boy, however there was something else.
"Riya... ho... ho... h... how... whe... where..." he stammered.
"Excuse me?" by this time it was I who was confused. How the hell did this guy know my name? I don't even know who on earth he is. And he is talking to me in Japanese. What's more confusing is that I can actually understand what he was saying. When in fact the only Japanese words I know were "arigatou" and "sayonara".
"Papa, mama came back." the little boy broke the silence.
"Yes Shin... she is back" the guy answered without taking his eyes off me.
"Excuse me" I said as I let go of the little boy's hand and started to leave.
I was only able to take one step when a grasp in my arm and a pull on my shirt stopped me.
"Riya... wait!"
" Mama!"
The guy and the little boy chorused.
"Excuse me?" I asked. This time I was feeling a little stupid realizing that for the past few minutes the only words that came out of my mouth were three different versions of "excuse me".
"Wait. Don't go."
" I'm sorry. I don't know you and you are scaring me. Please let go of my hand. Your grip is too tight. Little boy stop pulling my shirt, you are stretching it out. I just bought it yesterday. Please Japanese guy let go of me. If you don't, I'm going to scream my lungs out. Mind you I wasn't called loud speaker in high school for nothing. Oh God... this is not the vacation I had in mind". I started to talk non-stop trying to address the guy, the little boy and God all at the same time.
"Mama... please don't leave again... I promise Shin will be a good boy" the little boy pleaded as he let go of my shirt and hugged my legs never wanting to let go.
"I'm sorry. I think you've mistaken me for someone else." I said trying to loosen his grip from my legs.
"No! No! No!" he screamed tightening his hold of my legs even more.
Sensing that that little boy had no intention of letting go of my leg, I desperately turned to the Japanese guy.
"Please... do something. Your son thinks I'm his mom. Please..."
"NO! You're my mama! Don't go mama" the little boy continued to scream.
"Please. Do something. The taxi's waiting. I need to check in the hotel right now or they're going to cancel my reservation." I told the Japanese guy who just gave me a blank stare.
"Mama, don't go to the hotel. Let's go home. We have a house."
I was taken aback with what the little boy said. Then I realized that I every time I tried to tell the Japanese guy something in English the little boy would answer. Then it hit me. The boy understands English.
I looked down on to the 4 year old who was firmly hugging onto my leg.
"You can understand English?" I asked him.
Why is it so hard to say the words I want to hear from you? Is it too hard to say it? Or is it because those words are not meant for me?
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