The wonders of Facebook never cease to amaze me. Has anyone ever noticed the proliferation of all sorts of reunions lately? Grade school, high school, college, ex-officemates--name it, I bet some sort of get-together and reminiscing had happened in the last year or so. Thank Mark Zuckerberg for bringing you all back together.
Earlier today I had a Friend Request from someone I absolutely don't know. Our mutual friends were all grade school classmates, but I still don't remember him. Maybe he thought I was someone else he went to school with. After a few minutes he sent me a message, asking me if I was indeed another girl, a namesake. I replied no, sorry, but wait I do remember you! Only I didn't actually type the second part of what I was thinking, which was "You sonofabitch how dare you forget who I am when we were mortal enemies for at least five years and we punched each other in the schoolyard and on the way home and in front of your house with your mother watching."
He was my nemesis; the Lex Luthor to my Superman, the Doc Oc to my Spiderman, and the Cruella de Ville to my 101 dalmatians. I hated his guts back then and I wished a hundred times for him to be found dead in a ravine somewhere. We bullied each other all the time, but however bad the name-calling got to be I never, ever cried in front of him. In the sixth grade life as I know it ceased to exist and I left everything I had in a heartbeat, including the devil boy.
Fast forward to 6 hours earlier today, when I corrected him and introduced myself. "Ah oo, ikaw yung mahinhin dati di ba?" He remembered my brother and our house but he remembered me as mahinhin. Really? I almost dropped a rock through your skull that one time you got hold of my schoolbag and threw it in muddy water. But I think he really doesn't remember, so I asked about his mother, who I liked because she would beat him up in front of me whenever she catches him bullying me. Both our lives had come a long way since then.
He's now married, with three beautiful children and is working overseas. Looking at his pictures, I would be scared of him now. Seriously, he looks like he could kill me just by having that mug. You wouldn't want to meet him in a dark alley. I am glad we got over the fighting early on, because now I wouldn't stand a chance unless I had a gun and knew how to fire it. I'm not saying he's a goon, he just looks like one. And if he reads this, I'm truly dead.