"Minsan, kwentuhan tayo, ah."
That was what my mom said when I was going to leave for school last Wednesday. I really don't know the implication of what she said. I just thought she might want to hear my stories from our retreat.
But I was wrong. Or so, I think.
Just Wednesday night, as I don't have the appetite and mood for telling stories, I was too silent over dinner.
"Nag-retreat ka lang, tumahimik ka na."
I'm a loquacious person. I rarely shut my mouth, not unless I'm depressed or I'm doing something. Then, came my cell phone. She used it for a few days. When I finally got my hand over it, I was quick to return it to its previous settings, as my mom would constantly change it.
Then, as I browse over the archive, I saw messages, a conversation with someone about my so-called problem, a conversation with his cousin. And it struck me like lightning.
"Binasa niyo ba yung archive ko?"
"Bakit ko babasahin yon? Nirerespeto ko ang privacy niyo. Kahit pa mga anak ko kayo."
Too guilty. I can sense guilt in her answer. It's easy to see right through it.
Later that night, when I was browsing the net, she sat beside me. And began talking.
"May problema ka ba? Wag ka mahihiyang sabihin sa akin."
"Binasa niyo yung archive ko."
"Oo. Galit ka ba? Anak, wag ka magagalit sa akin. Ginawa ko naman lahat para maiwasan na mangyari yun. At kung may problema ka, wag ka mahihiya magsabi sa akin. I can be your mom, as well as your friend."
No. I did not say anything. Tears just flowed from my eyes. I can see that she's really concerned with what I've been encountering in the past few days.
With eyes still teary, I said, "Hindi ako galit."
