It was already late that Friday night and the rain was falling so hard. The words you said still linger in my ears as I try to replay on my mind how I invited you for dinner, hoping to spend an hour with you.
I checked my watched, it was nearly 10 pm. I decided to shut down my laptop and pack my things to go home.
I hailed the first taxi that was in sight.
“SM Manila?” I said.
The driver mumbled some words which I understood as dismissing the idea of giving me a ride when he learned where I wanted to go.
I was closing the taxi’s door when I saw a second taxi just meters away from the first.
“SM Manila?” I said again.
But just like the first, the driver murmured some words which sounded like he was disregarding the idea of giving me a ride home.
After a few minutes of waiting under the rain, a third taxi is heading my way and I was wishing this is the cab I am waiting for. But my hopes faded away when it suddenly made a sharp right turn at the corner where I was standing.
The sight of the fourth, fifth, and sixth taxi was blurry to me as I was already teary-eyed. The rain fell harder and I was already wet, soaked in rain water.
“Why is it so difficult to get a ride home?” I gasped.
I then remembered the way you dismissed my invitation for dinner just a while ago. I recalled the many times you disregarded my movie invites. I was reminded of the way you declined most, if not all, of my request of us spending time together.
I realized that you we’re not so different from the taxi cabs that just passed me by.
As the rain continue to pour down so hard, a figure of a taxi formed into sight. I waved my hand desperately while whispering a little prayer, “Please bring me home.”
The taxi stopped right in front of me. I inhaled deeply, opened the door and asked, “SM Manila?“.