MT

 I was just coming up from the basement after taking a cigarette break. My guest coordinator was frantically rushing me over to the studio which I understood as a sign that the guests for that night's show had arrived.

Settling down into my makeshift desk, I opened my laptop and sent my script to the printer for the guests to look over then went back out to the pantry to make a cup of coffee.

As I returned, the control booth section had been blacked out. My producer thought it would be a good idea to show only a silhouette of the special guest as the topic for the show was rather sensitive and at the time, socially unacceptable.

We aired our talkshow in a tiny studio within a satellite office in a busy, cosmopolitan section of the metropolis. There was barely any real estate to move around especially when changing camera angles. Even the barking of my executive producer would be heard on the floor and it was very disconcerting to the host and the crew.

So, a corner of the room was blacked out. So, what?

I went back into the business of polishing my talking points to be fed into the teleprompter and paid no attention to the lady in the dark pantsuit. For me, it was just another live show to live through.

Normally, I would bring all the guests to the conference room for a short briefing on the flow of the show and how they should conduct themselves, how to take directions from me on the floor and other showbiz stuff.

I got to meet two out of the three guests. The lady in the pantsuit was not in attendance. I wondered why but my boss told me to go ahead without the mystery lady.

When I'm working, I'm not easily distracted but somehow, this pantsuit lady piqued my interest. What was she supposed to reveal or why the need for anonymity?

Two minutes before airing, being the floor director, I asked her if she understood how things will play out for that particular episode. In the diminished light, I saw her nod but hardly ever heard her voice. I was already counting down  the seconds before show time so I turned my attention to the floor and raised my hand to signify, "Stand by!"

After the first gap, we took a 90-second commercial break and again I glanced back to the dark corner and saw only a shadow. There were no facial features to make out. I couldn't even tell if her suit was black or blue or brown.

Coming back from the break, she was finally given a chance to speak. Her real name was never mentioned on air. All we knew about her was that she was a lawyer and a government employee. There was not much to go on and I was seriously intrigued!

Her voice sent a tingle along my spine. I would glance back at her position every so often but even the working light for the studio was turned off. I couldn't wait till the end of the show to see what she actually looks like.  

Anxiously and excitedly, I watched the clock until the last few seconds of airtime ticked by. As soon as I declared, "We're out!", I turned to where she sat and the lights finally came on in the studio. I rushed toward her, hoping to strike a conversation and get her number.

In all honesty, I don't know how I managed it but I somehow got in contact with her through social media and she also gave me her number. 

It goes without saying, she was actually cute and petite. "Pocket-sized" is a term I fondly use for ladies of her physique. It turns out that she was a single mother who had just successfully annulled her marriage--a feat that was short of impossible in the Philippines.

We became friends and were constantly in touch. We went out on a few dates and that's where I discovered she could be as light and informal as much as she was a respected and feared attorney.

Over the years, life would take over and we grew fairly apart. I was going through rough times having resigned from the TV network and dealing with personal issues while she was being groomed to be a prosecutor. 

It was late one evening when my phone buzzed and I was thrilled to see that it was a text message from her. She asked if I was free on the weekend and if so, could we meet?

In a heartbeat I said, "Of course!"

That Saturday afternoon, we met at the usual place. Coffee and cigarettes were a staple between us. Unfortunately, smoking in restaurants was no longer allowed so we had to take our coffees out to the parking lot which had no roof above it and we were puffing under a slight drizzle, fighting to keep our cigarettes going as the rain drops were starting to get heavy.

"The weather seems to be cooperating," she said.

"Perfect!", was my reply.

"Funny you should say that," she remarked.

"How's that?"

She took a long puff on her Marlboro Lights and said, "I was going to ask you a big favor."

"Shoot!"

"I'm getting married next month. Will you cover it for me?"

I almost choked as I took a drag. MT and I were never an item although it felt very much like we were despite the distance, despite the undefined relationship that we had. We've been corresponding intermittently and suddenly, it dawned on me.

I've known her 6 years and I never made a move!

The rain was picking up and we had to ditch our cigarette butts and ran back to the safety of the mall. I was staring out into the distance, reminiscing on all those adventures we had, even those times that we took her son along. 

The kid was great and we pretty much hit it off from the get go. He would always ask his mom when we would go out again. It felt great and I thought that was it.

I said, "Yes!" and she gave me one last hug before leaving. I felt funny and disoriented but I never felt angry. I felt nothing.

There I was, a lone photographer unknown to everyone but her. It was a small ceremony with only selected guests. I should feel fortunate to have even been invited but there I was. Another wedding. I turned to Andre, her son but the kid just casually said, "Hi!" and went over to his new dad. It seemed like they got along just fine--just like we did, once upon a time.

That made me feel so alone. Another wedding and I'm a stranger in a sea of strangers. 

Almost immediately after that day, she closed her old social media account and we lost touch. Maybe that was her fresh start. I couldn't blame her. She and I were both looking for the same thing. 

It just turned out I was not that thing.