Space-Time Continuum

How can it be

that after all that Time that separated us, 

literally amounting to half of our lives;

and all that vast physical space

- of oceans, borders, and continents- placed between us...

still, the first thing we told each other when we finally met again is "you haven't changed."

My best friend in grade school, Erika, is currently living in her dream city, New York. One day, she announced she was visiting the Philippines for a few days. I knew we had to see each other. Gone were the days when we would talk endlessly during class, after school, and even on the phone about Disney, cheer leading, and many, many things we've forgotten since then. I wondered what kind of stories we'd tell each other this time. 

She told me she wanted to see Palawan, but only had a day to do so. I said, why not?

Low on sleep and high in adrenaline, off we went. 

People thought it was a crazy set-up. But in the words of my beloved boss, "That's alright. We live for these moments."

We stayed in a backpackers' inn and met beautiful-souled travelers who talked with wisdom and nonchalance about worlds I have not yet encountered. Mind maps started to connect in my brain and I knew that I will be spending the rest of my life trying to traverse those landscapes in the hopes of finding new truths while telling my own stories. 

In Coron, we found new ones, as well. 

We traveled by planes, boats, and bikes that day. We swam, hiked, and basked under the great golden sun. And yet it felt as if we've taken our precious time in everything we did. 

What do you do with your 24 hours?

I've been trying to read about Einstein's theory on Special Relativity and Space-Time Continuum. I am far from being an expert on physics, but when (over)simplified, it states that objects or people in motion actually experience time at a slower rate than those at rest. Therefore, one's experience of the "present moment" doesn't necessarily mean the same for another. 

But I would like to believe that in that particular instant, where Erika and I were finally progressing in the same space at the same time, we were both living in a shared present. 

And we've come to know that in life, there's nowhere else to be, but here.

It didn't feel like we were in grade school anymore. We knew we've become who we have become, so far. In our "normal" notion of Time, we have grown. But in a way, this whole trip made me feel as if we've cheated Time and Space. 

After all, according to our man, Albert Einstein, "the dividing line between past, present, and future is an illusion, however persistent." 

That, I believe.