Complex Equations

Definition of the term: an algebraic relation whose roots contain both real and imaginary elements.

Like relationships.

What do you mean?

Relationships – any relationship between two people – contain both real and imagined aspects. There are things about each other that actually exist, and there are things each one believes or perceives in the other that are not actually there, but are essential to the relationship. O, di ba?

Interesting, how you find such parallels. Must be the artist in you.

No, it’s the romantic in me. Yun nga lang, I have to talk the way you do to make you understand what I’m trying to say. Anyway, you don’t agree?

We-ell, at the least I won’t disagree. For the sake of argument, let’s take both of us as an example: what is there between us that can be considered an imaginary belief or perception one of us has about the other?

You’d be surprised.

You mean there is?

– Laren and Sarah, over coffee at Figaro Megamall

That’s what’s been so frustrating about him – how intellectual he is, and how level-headed he is about things – but that’s what’s so endearing about him, Sarah thought, sipping from the Styrofoam cup, watching his reaction closely. Laren’s eyebrow was raised slightly, the way it always was when he was pondering a question from left field. It was rare that anyone caught him unaware… or at least that I know of. Maybe his old friends the TOSStados did – wish I understood him the way he says they do. I wonder if I could talk to Sheila about him?

She thought back to the day they met; they had been guests at Sheila’s art exhibit, with whom she had become friends over the last year. Upon meeting Sheila’s old friends from Baguio, she had dismissed these people, they who called themselves alternately the Coffee Club and Los TOSStados, as indifferent when art was concerned.

Boy, was she surprised. From then on, she was fascinated by them. Especially one of them, he who was introduced to her as “the official historian of the tambayan.”

Laren surprised the hell out of me that night in QC… I thought he was all numbers and solely left-brained, pero may creative streak pala. Hmph, siguro kasi Aquarian siya, may pagka-nonconformist?

That evening, they were standing before Sheila’s installation, a lantern mounted on a bamboo frame, under which was a hand-carved statue of a dog baying; “Longing,” she had entitled it. “So poetic, Sheila, and so very Japanese” was Laren’s impish comment, upon which she challenged him to recite a haiku.

“Remember the rules of haiku?” Sheila had teased. Laren’s grinning reply was “Seventeen syllables, three lines, five-seven-five – and the first line has to do with an image of nature. Tama ba?”

“Puwede na! James, first line?”

James immediately recited, “Under the pale moon…” Laren had nodded, smiled, and continued, “The howl of a lone wolf / His song of longing.”

Amidst the applause of those who were listening, Sarah had asked, “Why ‘his song’, Laren? Why not ‘a song’?”

“We-ell, if you want to get semantic about it” – he laughed, right then, and then turned to face her, giving his pensive answer – “isn’t longing a personal experience? No two people experience longing the same way, do they?”

“Friends,” announced Sheila, clapping with delight, “I give you Laren Alvarez, poet and philosopher.” Amidst the cheers and laughter of the Coffee Club, she teased, “He’s a math teacher too, but nobody’s perfect.”

Sarah knew, right there and then, that given half a chance, she’d fall in love with Laren. This afternoon, nearly three months after, she realized she already had.

What do I say now?


Interesting statement, Laren thought. What does she mean by that?

He wasn’t dense, though he professed to be, and there were times when he had successfully convinced himself of being so; by doing so, he was able to avert not a few potential flameouts. Laren had had a few near-misses; since his move to Metro Manila, he found out to his dismay that he was found attractive by those who reminded him of Samantha. Laren knew, as did the rest of the without-comment Coffee Club, that the reason for his cardiactomy was that he had been more than saddened over Sam’s departure – he had been devastated, though he would never admit it. “A relationship finite from the beginning, and thus should not have been entered into, no matter how worthwhile it was to the involved parties,” was how he described it; Laren described such matters using cold, intellectual terms, and always in a voice that brooked no argument and warned against further discussion.

His infallible radar warned him that Sarah was probing for an opportunity to “get to him”; not that he wasn’t prepared – it was no more than two weeks ago, over drinks in James’ Cavite apartment, that Sheila had teased him about her, that he and Sarah were seeing each other so often and so regularly that talk was beginning.

“What sort of talk?” he had replied calmly, setting his bottle of Red Horse down. Sheila had smiled at that. “Talk. Sam, you know, approves completely, Chase told me yesterday.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t want to.”

“And Sam approves of – whatever it is you’re talking about?”

“Of course. Sarah was one of those I was with in our exhibit in London last year. That’s where they met, and they hit it off from the beginning.”

“So?”

“ ‘Tado.” James had said, as he brought in a plate of corned beef and onions. “Sam approves of Sarah. It’s that simple. You’re over her anyway, right?”

“What has that got to do with anything?”

“Everything,” Eric had replied, handing an opened bottle to his brother. “Sam may be over you now, as you are over her also, but she still cares about you enough to want your girl to be the right girl, same way you’d want her to end up with a good guy instead of some asshole.”

“She’s never said anything like that in her emails…”

“You don’t reply anyway,” Sheila had pointed out, “not to anyone of us, for that matter.”

“Hey, I do.”

“Not often.”

“At least Laren’s fair; he doesn’t reply often to any of us,” James had laughed. “Okay, here’s the up-front question: isn’t there anything going on between you and Sarah?”

Laren remembered that he had shrugged, not answering the question. It’s not anything I had wanted to think about, anyway. If I ever get to that bridge, that’s when I’ll decide if I want to cross it. Besides, I’m forewarned. I won’t be caught unawares, and I’ll know exactly what I need to say if Sarah has me painted into a corner.

He realized that, here and now, she had done exactly that. He also realized that he was at a loss for words, not even being able to adopt an intellectual mien and treat the subject as a theoretical exercise. Laren looked up from his coffee to see Sarah looking at him; she had a small smile on her face.

Shit, he thought, what do I say now?


What’s on your mind?

Oh, not much. Just wondering about what you just said.

And?

I was trying to figure how real and imaginary numbers interact in that context.

But they do, di ba? I mean, real and imaginary numbers are on the complex plane, right?

Wow.

We-ell, hanging out with you a lot, I’m bound to learn something.

Uh-huh… anyway, a complex equation contains both real and imaginary roots. From what you’re saying, a relationship between two people thus contains both real and imaginary elements. How does a relationship prosper if it’s partially based on something imagined?

You take away what’s imagined, and replace it with something real. Di ba complex equations can be expressed in rectangular and in polar forms? Di ba nagiging angle na lang yung imaginary element, puwede ko nang sabihing real number na yun, di ba?

Wow.

Ang galing ko, ‘no?

I’m impressed… I mean, really.

O, di ba? Now, sige, let’s use your example – if we take away what’s imaginary between us, what’s left?

Um… us?

Exactly.

So what’s this thing that’s imaginary between us, then?

Something that maybe we can turn into something real, siyempre.

I don’t understand.

You don’t want to naman, eh… not yet, anyway. Haaay, Laren… Tara na? You want to tambay muna sa bahay?

Not tonight, Sarah. Classes tomorrow.

Mama says, you don’t visit us anymore; just yesterday she asked me if you were eating at all, namamayat ka na yata lalo, sabi.

Tell her I’m taking care of myself, and she doesn’t need to worry. I mean, you see me everyday, right? You should know.

Eh? I worry about you nga, eh, the only time you eat yata is when you’re with me. Anyway, don’t forget, ha, it’s mama and papa’s anniversary; they’re expecting you at the party tomorrow night.

Don’t worry, I’ve already bought the wine. I won’t miss the party.

Sigurado ka diyan, ha? Hm, bahala ka kung di ka sumipot, sige ka. Tara na?

Tara. Sarah?

Hm?

Aah, never mind. It’s not important. Maybe later.

Ah, okay. Sige, tell me later na lang.

Thanks, ha.

Anong ‘thanks’? I won’t wait forever, you know.