The breeze was considerably temperate as it wafted through, sweeping dried leaves to indefinite directions with the dust picking up.
Crimson, indigo and deep orange quickly replaced the clouded skies this time before dusk started to break. It was decidedly a creative transformation of colors and mood.
And it wasn’t until the click of my footsteps that I was transported back to reality. I have been indeed drifting in and out of this wistful state as of late, confused and lost.
I was with him again just like last night. It was almost a routine that I shouldn’t get used to, but I decided that I already have.
Those piercing dark eyes stared at my own, hazy and unreadable as his body language.
“You still have to tell me what happened.”
The statement had been bluntly said, but his voice sounded indistinct and low at this, broken almost if not weary.
The day was long for all of those who participated in the arranged activity. And to Deana and me it turned out to be exhausting even if we only had to act as moral support to our friends and wait for every defense session to end to congratulate them.
Thankfully, everything looked alright when they came out of that door again.
I absentmindedly nodded as I turned the other way, refusing to be drowned in the infinite pool of those glassy orbs that insisted on holding their gaze.
Truthfully though, I had envisioned since that late morning how my speech should go. But the right words for the explanation were still unknown to me despite my endless attempts.
Deana had left just about fifteen minutes ago, mumbling something about having to be home early even on Saturdays.
“There is no such thing as happy weekends at home, really.”
I knew I looked rather terrified when she spun away after that short wave of her hand.
And now we were alone in the deserted parking lot in the university grounds, choosing to be suddenly quiet as we were heading for his car in the far corner.
He had insisted on driving me home again just so we could talk again.
Didn’t he say it was going to be his last just last night?
Didn’t you think you were going to see the last of his smiles last night, too?
A defeated sigh escaped my lips.
With this seemingly thousand emotions in me all at once clashing with one another, I was not sure anymore.
Even when he finally climbed in the driver’s seat I was still thinking how I should start. Why my heart was suddenly about to burst at the unreadable look he was giving me was beyond my comprehension.
The bright glow of the lamp post nearby bounced on his youthful countenance, creating an illusion of a sad remembrance.
I still couldn’t look into those eyes, and I resolved to turn my head away again when he chose to face me fully.
Waiting, he was patient as always.
I found myself heaving a deep sigh, one that reflected of lethargy this time.
“Tell me.”
It was a short declaration of two words. But something in me broke as he said those words—something like my already battered spirit.
And perhaps even this heart?
He must know he was making it especially harder when he unexpectedly held my trembling hand.
“Please. I have to know. What was last night about?”
Uncertainly, I watched in the low radiance how his hand enclosed my own completely.
“What happened last night...”
There was something about how he held my hand at that moment that I couldn’t interpret.
Maybe, just maybe that he had right to know.
Didn’t I ask for him to know?
Waiting, he was patient as always. And he wasn’t patient to many people.
“Do you remember the time when you asked me if...if you mean anything to me at all?”
My voice was trembling as well as I was making out the words.
Shadows fell bleakly on us as descending leaves of a nearby oak momentarily obstructed the light from the night post.
“I have always managed to brush the question off, exasperated that you have to ask me that.”
He unweariedly urged me on.
I never realized that dusk had completely left until everything was darker than the last. The final orange clouds disappeared along with the crimson and indigo colors across the skies. Dark blue and gray quickly displaced the warmer tones, leaving everything rather cold and sad.
And night had enveloped that expanse as well as my whole demeanor.
My dreamy eyes unconsciously shifted their stare to the neglected water bottle that was lying on the top of the glove compartment. I was almost distracted of the half empty container that delicately deflected crystal colors.
The fragile memories danced in those evenly frail illuminations.
“You see, it is really something tangible, the answer.”
“Why can’t people understand...am I doing it wrong?”
Aren’t these things hurting all of us?
“Don’t you know? By any means don’t you notice at all? I...always thought it is somehow lucid.”
My voice fell to almost a whisper.
“I don’t know the answer to that. All I know is that you’re only misunderstood. But...I—I understand you.”
There was that familiar choking feeling again. I almost couldn’t breathe.
“Can’t you tell?” The question seemed much pained than I intended it to sound.
And I didn’t mean for the tears to fall again.
“Ken-chan...”
He never even called me by my name.
“How come? How come that you can’t tell how much I actually...how much I care?”
His hand held mine tighter when I forced it to pull away.
“Can’t you see...that I’ve always been around?”
I couldn’t even bring myself to stop crying, and now it seemed that I couldn’t stop shuddering as more sobs escaped my mouth.
“But then again—but then again that’s all I could do, to understand you, to be around.”
There was bitterness there that I couldn’t help but express. The dam that held everything had broken down, the words unstoppable as the anger.
Do we always have to regret things this way?
“Ken-chan—”
There was the foreign name again. The excruciating wintriness that came with the utterance seized my senses completely.
That strange luster that the water bottle emanated seemed to have completely lost its beauty.
Fresh tears clouded my vision as I tried to make out his face.
“Please...let me say it...let me say that I’m sorry that you can’t see me.”
There was a surprised look on his face that quickly faded to rueful.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t know,” he whispered back, onyx eyes downcast at the account.
Dazzling lights from an unknown illumination swiftly fell upon us, blinding me for a bleak moment.
“No...don’t be, because I had chosen to be rather silent about it,” I insisted, blinking but to no avail. “It’s sad that I couldn’t give you more even if I wanted to. Not even words.”
Fleetingly, the light post flickered with the memories of him.
“I shouldn’t have waited for something like this to happen—and now you have to leave, tomorrow...”
My eyes hurt from endlessly weeping.
“You have given me so much. It must hurt you. I’m really sorry.”
With his words I drowned in a pool of my own tears for the infinite time.
It was all I could do, perhaps to care this much.
A small smile formed in my lips at the thought.
“I’ve been actually so selfish. Really, there is nothing to be sorry for.”
He painfully matched my smile, seizing my hand with new found determination.
“Thank you...for helping me realize my strength. I haven’t had much of confidence, and staying near you...I must have been much more confident these days,” I sighed the words tenderly.
My free hand rested itself over his. I was suddenly longing of the memories of the days gone by. I wanted to say so much more but I supposed I would be more confused if I insisted with these feelings.
I love you...do you know?
Those three words seemed rather bewildering and out of place. I allowed them to drift quietly in my mind until they were forgotten.
The tears slowly ceased falling finally as I released a tired sigh.
The rainbow hues that the water bottle reflected appeared to be much more attractive than the last time I stared at it.
“Ken-chan, thank you for everything.”
I would like to imagine that he said my name so affectionately albeit the strange sound of it. A bitter smile graced my face this time. How odd that I was getting used to the name.
His features were rather serenely pensive in the shadows.
I would have to remember this side of him as well. He was always assertive in his astuteness—almost too wise sometimes, or too playful. People couldn’t tell which was which.
A genuine smile materialized on my face as I nodded, accepting his appreciation with pacified emotions.
“Your leaving really shouldn’t be so difficult to accept, come to think of it. I guess I’m foolish to let it get to me this way,” I said with an awkward laugh.
“No,” he whispered, shaking his head. “I am not leaving you...like the others have done. Not that way, I mean.”
But you will. Eventually.
“And...you’re not at all foolish.”
He carefully caressed the back of my hand, making me relax to the touch.
“I must be thinking too much.” I quivered when I laughed at my words. “I’m getting tired of this habit.”
Those must be the most thoughtful eyes I’ve ever seen.
“I’ve noticed you’ve always been too afraid,” he said quietly with a smile. “You never even trust people so easily. You’ve been so satisfied with the darkness. A recluse, you are...but that’s alright.”
A recluse...I have been more than that.
“I appreciate the beauty of the shadows much better that way, you know.”
I had already blinked the last tears away.
“Perhaps,” he breathed as he agreed. “And the walls must have been as beautiful to you.”
There was nothing to spare now, even these feelings.
“You know me too well now.”
We always have enjoyed speaking in vague poetry, and we have finally begun moving.
When I gazed up to the sky through the window of his car, the moon wasn’t as full as last night as it had been already waning peacefully in the dark clouds that had appeared out of nowhere. But the mahoganies that towered on one side of the freeway didn’t seem too solitary now. Nothing seemed too lonely now while I was here, with him.
And he didn’t let go of my hand until we reached my road. The trip was mysteriously fleeting. I could barely remember everything that day, even what I have done tonight and the words that we have said to each other.
It didn’t matter if he didn't feel anything for me. I decided that while he was quietly sitting beside me I was anyway contented with this arrangement.
You lose the side of your circles.
I was afraid for a second that I might have said that aloud. But he didn’t react in any significant way.
Tears threatened to form behind my eyes when he turned inaudibly to me, the corners of his mouth curved upward. He genially smiled to me again. I refused to cry this time.
It really didn’t matter to me now. And I would most likely live through the days seeming as dazed as I was that instant, those incredibly soft oriental eyes in my mind.
[february 26, 2005]
