by Greg Yu, 2025
First Spark
I met them both, Carol and Mike, on their last day in the Philippines. They said they were from California and had been on many adventures. They wanted to commemorate their trip by getting a watch or two – something uniquely Filipino.
I asked why they came here. Mike said he was visiting family. They were both born and raised on the other side of the world. I wouldn’t have known he had Filipino roots if he hadn't told me about his family. Carol, on the other hand, loved going on adventures with Mike. She was always out and about, from place to place. Some sort of wanderlust, as they call it.
Our time was short, and I didn’t get to ask them about the other countries they’d been to, the things they’d seen. All I know is that they went on a huge discovery tour around the archipelago – to places not even I, as a local, have been. They loved the sisig. They loved the seafood. They loved the culture. And they loved the people.
It was a couple of hours before their flight back. They both had satisfied expressions as they looked at each other and then back at me. “What’s a great place to eat, a final meal in the Philippines before we go?” Carol asked.
I directed them to one of my favorite Filipino restaurants. We all looked at the time on our wrists, thanked each other for the company, and said our goodbyes.
Thank you for your love, Carol and Mike. May those watches serve you well on your next adventures.
Second Spark
Lawrence was always a free spirit. Ever since he was a child, I’ve known this. All of us who grew up with him knew this.
We always attributed it to his intellect – that he might have been too smart. Others might have seen it in a different way that we, at that time, could not comprehend.
Though only a few years apart, I was never close to him growing up. We had different interests. I was lazy and loud. He was cool, calm, and collected. I was obsessed with video games; he, with books.
And yet, I was very sad to see him go when he migrated a decade ago. At first, it blew over quickly. But over the years, it turned into “how has he been?” or “what’s he doing now?”
I always just got wind of his happenings from his family, and usually more of the occasional social media story. Hiking. Skiing. Traveling cross-country and beyond. It was like he was a completely different person.
“Did we all just grow up?” I found myself asking. And in no time at all, I was in contact with him just for the occasional gossip, or to ask how he’s been. I’d always go out of my way to see him when he came back to the Philippines to visit. Call it part of my maturity, too, as I grew ever so fond of him and his antics.
Finally, he introduced us to his partner. A partner we never thought he would have. A partner who went on his adventures with him. Hiking. Skiing. Traveling cross-country and beyond. I could never have been more proud of him. His light radiated. His lone fire found its kindred soul.
Today I say, “It’s been too long, brother. Let’s catch a drink when we see each other again.”
Third Spark
This is my story. Although Valentine’s Day is in the air, I have a more pressing issue at hand: A year ago, I entered into a contract with my now wife – a contract to love and serve, to give and give more. Yes, that contract was our marriage.
And in a little more than a week from now, it will be 365 days since our first ‘I dos.’
She is a woman of passion. A lady full of fight and feist. We went through the pandemic together, but not really. A hailstorm of challenges then, and now, has gotten us to this point in time. I was lucky. She chose me. I would not have had any other girl besides her.
365 days. Sounds like such a short time compared to the history of the universe. Seems too short compared to the length of the Roman Empire. Our marriage can’t even compare to how long medical school is.
But the length of time isn’t a measure of love, now, is it?
In the year we’ve been together, we’ve built a home – a warm and cozy one at that. We’ve weathered countless crises, from our sick cats to our dwindling funds. I’d be bold enough to even say, it’s been too long. Too long since I’ve had a moment to myself.
But it goes without saying that these moments I’ve had, I’ve had with her. Those challenges we’ve overcome, we’ve done together. We don’t have hard times and good times; we have heavy times which bloom into great times.
They say time is what you make of it. Silly how the paradox of uncontrollable time being in the palm of one’s hands – but once you’ve witnessed, no, experienced it, you would not have wanted it any other way.
In my final words to end this, I’ll have to confess – I have not bought a watch in a very long time. But so is true of this paradox: for a watch lover to halt his passion, and willingly, must have some form of importance.
She, she is important. She is my passion. And I love her.
Happy anniversary.
*All stories are based on true events and tweaked to enhance storytelling. Names have been changed to protect the individuals' privacy.