Perfect day.

As if on cue . . . the rains fell. P said, “I ordered it.” I laughed. It’s been a tender, loving sort of day.

Earlier, in the car, P told me, “Alam mo , malabo na ang mata ko. I can no longer see that far (pointing to two vehicle distances in front of us). You know how they say that when you reach 40, your eyes will suddenly go dim?” 

I smiled, made consoling noises, and rubbed his arm. 

P is turning 37 in August. I’m turning 35 in November.

I met him when I was 16 . . . we were young together.