hyper-disintegration of sarcastic discourse also known as drama. NOT.

Happy Anniversary.

2010-02-27T21:45:00.004+08:00

It is funny and annoying at the same time that I can even recall the events of this same day 5 years ago. The fullness of the high moon and the melancholic atmosphere that enveloped my entire system are the only things I could remember. The bitterness is different in some twisted sense, and still I laugh. I laugh because I am angry, at myself more than anyone else.

To whom it may NOT concern.

2009-06-06T09:18:00.008+08:00

So this is how it feels like to be consumed by blind panic and paranoia that you could be dying anytime now of: 1) aneurism, 2) heart attack, or 3) a combination of both. I blame you, yes, YOU, that I have probably been just secretly a hypochondriac--however that is spelled--all along, and YOU might just have spawned it. I apologize if I sound like am just about blaming you if I lie dead anytime soon, but, really, I'm not spewing guilt to get back at you. Only a little remorseful that I CANNOT think happy thoughts while I am in the middle of hyperventilating. Thanks to you, and your decision to stab me straight to where I would bleed the most, I am more pessimistic than ever. So 6 months later I am still stuck here. Yeah, so what? Big deal. And you know what? You can only pretend so much that you CARE. Geez. All these thoughts over a bad crick in the neck and insomnia. And to sum it up: YOU make me sick. Yes, even after six months. So excuse me while I try my best now to think happy thoughts.

This was supposed to be sent to someone else (I allow you to make your guess) but decided against it in the last minute (because, seriously, that is just what losers might say). I am not sure if it made any sense, and I tried my best to fill in the right punctuations. It is just prolly the insecurity of having neither the inspiration nor the drive to move on. I am sorry if it caused any confusion. I just had to let the ranting out of my chest.

Chapter Five: Random benches and earthy sidewalks.

2009-04-11T09:32:00.006+08:00

Something definitely happened over the holidays. I could just tell.

He was changed, somehow softer, if I may so boldly describe. And how that came about I couldn't be sure.

It's not him. It's actually you. You're different, calmer, and probably even subdued.

I couldn't acknowledge it, not when I was with the professor in this seemingly suggestive circumstance that we were stuck in again, sitting face to face in a too relaxed state on a concrete bench in the sidelines of the wide, open field.

What he initiated almost made me think he liked provoking malice in people. Despite this he carried an air of guarded indifference in his surroundings as he fixed his full attention to what I was telling him as if it was the only thing that mattered in the sepia afternoon.

My narration wasn't even stimulating nor it was important, just a comment about the laze of people and things, and it had been the midterms.

His oriental eyes were a little too dazed as he looked at me, like his mind had flown elsewhere.

I instinctively frowned as the wind picked up, turning away to hide the rising flush.

"Stop it. You're making me very uncomfortable."

My ears had become so warm that they could melt.

The reverberation of his chuckle held a wryness that was hard to miss. I dared another look at his cryptic expression.

"People are starting to talk now. Are you sure you want to get into such a mess with me?"

I studied the undeniable hopeful glimmer in his eyes, and I was careful of my next words.

"I don't care about what they think," I said with a note of seriousness I didn't think I could muster that moment. I figured he asked to see me to actually talk about this today in the pretense of just hanging around.

"There is nothing to it. Isn't knowing what we really are what matters?"

The cool January breeze ruffled my unruly ponytail and all the browning leaves on the ground and trees. It was somewhat unnerving.

He appeared as if he was torn between wanting to believe me right away and confirming it one more time. By now I had expected him to rephrase his question.

"Really?"

An assuring but mischievous grin easily materialized on my face.

"Sure. And if you're up to it, we can always play with their imagination."

His rich laughter ricocheted in the vastness of the soccer field.

And it felt strangely good to hear it. The manifestation of his amusement was contagious, and I couldn't help but laugh with him, unconcerned of everything else in spite of the peculiar looks thrown our way.

Sepia transformed to chrome and indigo in a slow and poignant transition. The skies were witness to a bond forged in confidence of each other's doubts.

The professor didn't have to ask about who I liked however, because he really didn't have to, and I didn't have to be stuck again with giving away information that he didn't need to hear. It was embarrassing to share my hopeless attraction to Michael, who was not even in the country anymore, the red on my face rivaling the color of my shirt.

Thankfully, he offered an emphatic smile as if saying things would be alright somehow. I tried to match the look even if I couldn't believe the implication of it. Being a pessimist was pitiful enough.

It was becoming cold when dusk broke. I was already kicking random pebbles on the narrow track that everybody identified as Lovers' Lane when the professor started on the unlikely topic with him walking too close beside me.

Inwardly, I scoffed at the irony of the silly name, knowing it would never be more than any other insignificant sidewalk to us.

Never.

Chapter Four: Nocturnal dialogue.

2009-03-20T09:50:00.009+08:00

The sound of the rain beating against the French windows wasn't the one that broke the silence of the dead night. Beneath the pillow the phone had been stubbornly ringing, stirring me awake, jerking my consciousness in the worst manner imaginable.

I didn't need to look at the screen of the device to know who had to call me at this time of the day.

"Hello?" I heard my hoarse voice expand in the void. This was dangerously becoming a habit, these almost secret calls in the wee hours, even when there really was nothing to talk about.

"Were you sleeping?" He was almost shocked, and had the nerve to ask.

"Yes. No. Does it matter?" I had to clear my throat, irritation evident at the ugly sound. The grogginess wouldn't leave me for another ten seconds.

"Sorry."

Just one word and something in the professor's speech pattern made me instantly alert, a frown forming on my face.

He was unusually somber if not melancholic, but that wasn't what was striking about it. I surprised myself at the easy observation. I didn't realize I had already become sensitive of his moods now.

Taking in the limited light in my space, I blinked again and again as I focused my sight on the plastic constellations pasted on the ceiling.

The feelings he was unintentionally channeling through the call were disconcerting, weighing me down with the tangible heaviness.

I convinced myself that he hadn't meant to seek for me, that it just happened to be an accident that I was the first person he was able to reach. And I couldn't ask him what was wrong because it wasn't in my nature to prod though I certainly tried, mouth open with the question hanging between us.

"My dad," he sighed the words, not elaborating since there really was no need to. It was easy to assume that the professor's influential father wanted his way with things again.

"I see."

I sincerely wished I could be more emphatic however I had always been short in that field.

But he had accepted the company which seemed enough for him.

"Don't worry about it," I added in attempt to cheer him up, anyway not sure if it was the right thing to say. It was an embarrassingly standard operating procedure statement, and I cringed to myself at the mention of it.

Finally, the angry storm had ceased its torment, quiet slowly returning in this little house. Time passed slowly now as eternity seemed to stretch while I waited in my bed for an answer that might not come.

He didn't say anything to acknowledge the hope in things but there was comfort in his silence and a sense of calm in the absence of words. I figured it was actually him who was doing me a favor.

"Thank you for answering the call."

Shadows had stilled and my breath stopped for a very short second. How could such gratitude be so impacting like this?

My response came a little too late.

"Anytime."

Anytime.

At the back of my mind I knew that the word was going to haunt me from then on, like an unwanted promise I was bound to keep.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Sweetie," the professor mumbled as if it were an afterthought, still slightly pensive.

I couldn't resist a pout. I still hated to be reduced to such pun.

"Go to sleep, Cat. It's late. Bye."

The call ended but that was also when I started having his dreams.

Chapter Three: As a blush gives way to a bruise.

2009-03-20T08:56:00.011+08:00

As he immersed himself in the loud music that bounced within the sound-proof room, the professor was transformed into another person.

He had a sure, firm grip of the slender sticks and paid too close attention to the harmony of the other instruments that completely drowned the steady reverberation of the downpour outside.

I shuffled uncomfortably on my seat, trying to understand the sounds swirling about.

The one who tried to sing, another young professor who succumbed to the calls of five-minute fame, made a ridiculous attempt to cover the song, and I shook my head at the unfortunate limitations of his vocals as I struggled not to openly laugh.

Sir Dan, who I started calling Cat (because I couldn't bring to just call him Dan whenever we were already outside the classroom even if he insisted) was still set on delivering his parts as if there was no room for mistake even at practice. He was easily a perfectionist, and even with music he was as unforgiving as he was with arguments in logic.

My train of thoughts about the drummer was broken when my name was called.

Actually, the Automata professor merely mouthed the word and waved my way.

Sweetie, he had said. That was clearly a pun to my name and a joke that had stuck. The annoying man refused to call me by my name, saying that it rather sounded too lame for someone like me.

"No thanks," I replied even though I knew he wouldn't be able to hear me behind the slightly parted glass doors.

They were having a few minutes break now and he wanted me to step inside the studio.

I was lounging on the bench in the empty and narrow hallway adjacent to the crammed room, uncharacteristically patient and thoughtful.

The drummer didn't move from his position but twirled one of the sticks in his fingers expertly. He had previously mentioned that he taught himself to use the bulky percussion and that he identified himself as an amateur to it.

Show off, I mouthed and playfully stuck my tongue out.

It was almost taboo that I was allowed to even do such thing to a professor even if I could debate that we were a little more familiar now.

I couldn't help but muse on Sir Jessie's comment about his colleague thirty minutes ago as we were just heading to their scheduled practice.

"Dan only hangs out with people he likes."

Isn't that what people are normally inclined to do? I had asked, knowing that he was anyway implying something. It was almost unbelievable that even the balding young instructor was teasing us now.

I had stopped the urge to roll my eyes and defend myself. Didn't I anyway say that I couldn't care less of what other people think? Commenting about it would just mean there was anyway something going on.

The two professors just had to laugh at me, conspiring as they shared a secret thought to themselves and embarrassing me somehow. The traitor didn't bother explaining why he had to drag me with him anywhere he pleased, and though I wasn't one to complain or question at the face of boredom and nothing better to do, I was starting to wonder to myself.

The sharp blast of the electric guitar brought me back to the deserted corridor and had me center my concentration to the oriental eyes that were curiously staring at the clueless bespectacled girl by the double doors. I didn't realize until my ears burned that the girl was actually me.

Blushing, I decided, was just as demeaning even when nobody could notice the red tinge across my confused face.

The noise that filled the beat-up place was just as taunting as the blood that was persistently pounding in my ears.

Chapter Two: Candy in Wonderland.

2009-02-23T05:44:00.027+08:00

There are words that you've said years ago in a seemingly harmless, forgettable circumstance that you anyway remember forever. Words like "You are being deliberate" that were directed to your arguably manipulative instructor who would ask you to repeat what you've said not because he hadn't heard you the first time but just because you'd sound amusingly gullible when you've succumbed to such trick he's set up.

But I really had uttered my thoughts aloud even before I could stop myself, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek at that, with the decency to feel horrified despite the secret satisfaction that boiled at the pit of my stomach.

"You are being deliberate"? What the hell brought that on?

Yet another mind-numbing seatwork, of course. It wasn't exactly the most flattering remark but it had been the most basic truth.

If it was a little consolation to myself, everybody was sure to be thinking the same thing as they scribbled/stabbed on the harassed yellow paper before them. I'd be lucky if Sir Dan would even give my paper a second look and one point. I had been the second person to submit her answered (but not necessarily correct) puzzle. He'd probably award Richard, the first to stand up from his spot, two points for thinking he got the seatwork half-right.

I sauntered to the door, decidedly set on avoiding the impending question. But I also just had to look over my shoulder.

"Huh?"

That priceless baffled expression on the professor didn't suit him at all, a stark contrast to the almost-smirk he was prone to wear in most days. Since the start of the second semester of our junior year, I had been used to seeing that grin that resembled a Cheshire cat's.

Though I had sworn that I wouldn't say that out loud as well, I found myself telling him that a couple of minutes later to dodge having to elaborate my earlier uncalled-for outburst, when the bell had already screamed in my right ear and my feet were carelessly dangling two feet above the floor.

It was just reasonable that anybody should think it was inappropriate for any normal female to sit on the ledge that way in spite of her A-line skirt. But Sir Dan wasn't one to reprimand this particular female because he liked the unconventional, and he liked hanging around the bespectacled, sharp-tongued, more-tactless-than-honest-but-anyway-clever girl who liked her backpack red and functional.

And today was just one of those days where I would wonder why this rather intelligent man chose to speak to this lowly being such as myself.

I gracelessly made a jump from where I sat just like how any frustrated acrobat would.

By then I was sure everybody within the four walls of room C501 heard my unwarranted opinion of our happy-scented professor, however it was comforting that I wasn't at all bothered by the fact now than the first few seconds the statement left my mouth. That had been the start of my uncaring demeanor about anything that involved this man. Well, at least of what other people thought about these unlikely pair who must be hanging around together more often than they should.

It's not like we have any other options to kill time anyway, I reasoned with a mental shrug.

"How am I a Cheshire cat?"

He was unusually inquisitive today, and though I was normally polite and would have easily offered an explanation, I wasn't in the mood to be indulging.

Sir Dan's oriental eyes looked rather rounder before my own and I mutely blinked a few times until I realized my actions. It was certainly rude of me to stare, and I blamed his intoxicating scent for numbing my linguistic capabilities.

The sparkling yellow soda in the clear plastic cup that sat on the tabletop reflected the cheery mid-morning.

It seemed like I was falling into a trap that I couldn't quite place yet. The feeling was somewhat disturbing. In the middle of it all, I felt myself being sucked in a temporary void and suddenly all I could hear was a dull beating in my ears. Michael, a friend whom I was pinning for since freshman year, had just left the country two months ago, and already I was forgetting him too fast for my liking.

Am I changing? But why? How?

If it weren't for the professor's unbreakable and curious gaze, I would've not remembered where I was at that moment. Sir Dan was patiently waiting for my answer, his eyes boring holes on my blank face.

There must be something in the air that nudge the fleeting inertia. Immediately, I felt too self-conscious to even look away. My ears felt like they were now burning.

Is that a smirk on his face again? What an annoying cat.

Cat. That's what he really was. He represented every bit of the animal, cunning and overbearing at a certain degree.

I could only glare back at him. The man's face became amused. He had the tendency to be so insufferable as well.

"Well, Aren't you going to tell me?" The arrogant lilt in his deep voice betrayed more of his amusement and it annoyed me to no end that, again, he knew something that I didn't.

"I don't think there is a need to explain. I am pretty certain that people have told you the same thing anyway." I just had to match his smugness with one perfectly arched brow and a wry smile of my own.

The professor, despite of his tucked and pressed linens, suddenly appeared too boyish in that one look that confused me all the more. I was again struck by the paradox of the rumors-turned-truth about his notable reputation.

"Maybe. But nobody had been bold enough to say that to my face." He cheekily grinned that secret grin again before suavely taking a sip of his Mountain Dew.

This man surely knew how to use his words (that or I was unfortunately ignorant). A second later I was caught trying to painstakingly explain myself, in detail as if I were in some spell, and I was almost certain a part of me was given away.

This is a trap. The manipulating cat is the Queen of Hearts in disguise. He is trying to see how long you can endure this mockery, my mind scoffed at my naivete.

However, from then on I couldn't help myself. In the next few weeks, it would just be the most perfect routine.

58 themes.

2009-02-03T06:55:00.002+08:00

merry scents. molded limbs. 1st letters. art indulgence. random benches. earthy sidewalks. travelling, blithe murmurs. 50 minute summers. nocturnal dialogues. missent thoughts. royalty in denial. embracing silhouettes from behind. monster of emerald. savior’s passion. beating mercury. 13 postscripts. unwelcomed bemusement. inevitable isolation. jar of news. a lesson on secrets. yeilding completely. forgetting november. hating october. colder december. new year summons. muddled decisions. thousand hopes. unexpected aid. learning truths. unburied months. high wanings. guided melodies. lamenting hardwoods by the spinning road. glazed gazes. foreign names. 2 words. 5th literature. all over again. tranquil declarations. capital wagers. stolen innocence. gift of communication. boxed sweetness. music in the ears. experience of touch. laughter in a book. blues and whites. miniature footprints. crafty conspiracies. shield from sun and rain. lingering shadows. reflected amusement. whispered nostalgia. a different happiness. 24 moons later. a million sighs. wasted opportunities. dead ends. longest weekend.

Chapter One: Merry Scents.

2009-01-29T12:51:00.019+08:00

It really just doesn't end, does it?

Things catch up on us without them even trying, and without even us asking for it. This is the perfect time to follow the craziest exit strategy that we never knew existed until now, until all else faded in the wild ringing of our own noisy thoughts.

---

It all started when I shot my wide, curious eyes to the only vision in blue that would be the sole reason why I'd be too lost to recognize myself in the next five years.

And there he was, smiling gloriously despite himself and despite these insignificant students who never noticed his approaching.

Grace, who comically dragged her hesitant guest to the crammed table of six, muttered an excited blur of introduction. It didn't matter if everybody before her looked just as unsure.

The man waved his large hand at this, surprisingly unperturbed by the attention. The slight movement caused a sweet smell to float between us. I was not sure which surprised me more: the sudden, smooth movement or the overwhelming scent.

"Dan," said Grace in her signature genial smile. The man didn't quite make that strong impression to me though, not when he was standing there, looking slightly sheepish despite the obvious authority that he was still emanating. I would have thought he was quite normal if he didn't allow this girl in bob-do say his name that way. It was too informal and familiar for my taste.

These round eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses transformed to slits. I wondered if he'd ever remember our own names.

Too boyish to be that famed professor, I mused to myself fleetingly, unmoving from my position on the vinyl tabletop. My face was almost hidden by my crimson backpack, but he must have known I was scrutinizing his body language in the brighter rays of the afternoon sun that seeped through the glass blinds in my far right. The man named Dan was almost rocking in the balls of his feet, self-conscious and restless.

Everybody was either too impassive or too polite to look the other way where Yagi's rather youthful cousin wasn't standing. Dianne, Cyrus, Levon, Sheryl, Joseph and I already knew who he was, of course, thanks to summer gossip and whatnot.

The others had said hi.

"Dan will be our professor next semester. Isn't that great?" Grace went on, not even noticing the awkward air that hung about. She really shouldn't sound so happy about the impending doom, if rumors about this man were true.

No. It wouldn't be great at all. My future self, five years older but not any wiser, would have vehemently disagreed.

Dan, the smiling sadist of a professor, would have walked away with his impaling scent, and I, in spite of things, would remain unscathed and unchanged for the world.

"What subject?" Someone opened their mouth too soon. It was so like Levon to make the small talk.

"Automata theory," the professor eagerly replied in that same almost-embarrassed grin. His oriental eyes crinkled in a rather disturbing manner. I was sure he knew something that everybody in that group wasn't aware of.

Thankfully, the little party ended too quickly, and I was left to lazily reflect about my only class in the dwindling buzz of the cafeteria in this warm afternoon, easily forgetting the only man who would painfully change me in the next few years.

I would not have realized it but it would be the very day that my world made its inevitable shift.

Prelude to Chronicles of The Anti-social.

2009-01-28T07:27:00.014+08:00

There are times that we wish we could just relive the affair for the sake of remembering. Like the most pleasant dream that we couldn't quite grasp when we awoke in a flurry daze--not in a state of clarity over things that might have been already lost in refined attempt anyway.

And, of course, there are times that we rather overlook, choosing to neglect the pulsating ache that never goes away despite effort, despite decisions, and despite time. It permeates in the heavy air but we are still feigning it. We are so good at pretending.

But we, as humans, are a sadist to ourselves, suffering to ourselves. Because we are endlessly stubborn and proud, and nobody knows that we feel this way. We bleed, and we would not acknowledge it. And we would not mind. Almost.

cheers for fears.

2009-01-20T07:06:00.001+08:00

I am not sure which is more disappointing: the 4 Customer Satisfaction vs. 2 Dissatisfaction at work, the sleepless dayoff and Dianne and Butch's unexpected visit and my lack of enthusiasm, the Sinulog punishment in the form of being squished unnecessarily between the sweaty crowd of mardigras watchers, missing the fireworks display despite arriving early, not being allowed to go to my favourite bookstore as these people dragged me away to where they wanted to go just because they think I should not be alone (and my dormmates, including Paupau, think it is illegal), or their taunting about being the only one in the group of 7 who did not have a partner and who had to stick up to these girls and their male counterparts' urging to get myself a man already.

Maybe I should have been at least excited for the festival, but I was anyway upset about how everything turned out last night, about how people find me as a charity case instead of an independent individual who would not have minded being single until they rubbed that sore spot where it hurt the most. I dunno. I did not think I could ever be embarrassed like that after Paupau volunteered to play the matchmaker. It was...sad and humiliating, and it made me feel stupid and hopeless and infinitely ugly and almost desperate. It was unfair. So what if I choose to be alone? It did not matter too much before.

countdown to hell week.

2009-01-06T08:25:00.003+08:00

Hahahahahaha hahaha haha haaa yeah. It's back to reality for us mere workers. And I am really starting to hate coming to work. Laziness aside, this industry isn't very promising to me anymore. The pressure and stress that come with it are not worth all the money I get every 15 days at all. So I'd really appreciate it if they just go sack me this Friday (the word "deliberation" irks me every time) and end my misery already. *sigh* That's prolly just the hormones complaining. Or the feeling of loss that's slowly eating me away. Yagi is speaking to me again, to ask advice about love life and whatnot. Engk! Wrong person to ask. But you know how I'd like to anyway help, so I tell him what I think about the helplessness that he is feeling right now. Yes, he is in love. And he's in love with...somebody else, which is sorta a relief, and annoying at the same time. What the hell was he thinking, hitting on me months ago when he is really into someone else? Aa. I think I can relate at some point, but it doesn't really help me feel less pathetic. So I just realized why I'd always think I'd never get married to anyone after he had asked. Thanks to recent happy events, and the bottomless insecurities that I think so. *sigh* I just hope I survive the day. Hug me, Mike. I so need one right now.

for a happy Christmas.

2008-12-24T17:59:00.008+08:00

This letter gets a special title, yeah, because this would be different from the previous ones I've sent.

I need to tell you what I really think and how I feel not because I want you to feel guilty in any way. We had been way past that, don't you think? It's been years, too. I think it is just a matter of honesty that I haven't really achieved. I had my ways of sugar-coating words because I'd hate to hurt you, and right now I'll be viciously unkind and brutal. All because this is the last. And all because I never want to regret. Not about you anyway.

This may seem desperate, but I'm too exhausted even for desperation. I hadn't realized that until last night, and I couldn't even sleep.

You were right. You have been unfair, too unfair in fact and maybe even too selfish. You always wanted me by your side, didn't you? And now this happens, you find someone else and you still want us to be friends. How could you even ask me that? The question stabbed me straight to my chest I could be bleeding by now. Thankfully, it just feels like there is a recurring pang that never really subsides. By letting you see why we can't be friends I meant for you to let me go. It's been like you never wanted me to let go, and you always, always know I wouldn't, not until you tell me so anyway. Haven't I told you that more than once, twice, thrice?

Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it's just the bitterness talking. But at this point I just want to feel anything but grief because one doesn't really deserve this punishment at Christmas. Not even someone evil like me. So pardon my pointless, baseless outburst. Maybe I am really just lost and torn apart right now. I guess I've endured all this for too long. I've been talking to myself for too long. I've loved you for too long. I needed the closure, and now that it's here it seems like the last three days have drained all of me. I had known since Monday that something is going to happen. I've been meaning to speak to you that night, to somehow beat you to it, to save you the trouble. I've developed a sixth sense over anything that has to do with you in the last few years, you see. I'm pathetic, am I not? You must know because I hadn't been worth anything for a long time now.

Will you miss me after all this? I will miss you. But I really have to do this so that I can finally move on. This thing between us dragged on and on and on and on, and nothing is left of me, and I had been alone. I'm sorry, this is too sad for Christmas cheers. But I didn't want to miss out on anything. I wanted to exhaust myself to a point of eternal numbness, up to the last email I can write to you.

Even if it will sound like I am just convincing myself, I will be alright. So stop apologizing, and please don't worry about me anymore.

Again, I'd like to thank you for everything. You gave me a chance to give you all of me, my worst and my best. Thank you for letting me write to you, for making me think I am good at it, for inspiring me. Nobody had been able to drive me to my limits. Nobody else but you. So thank you very much. I can finally have my closure.

I had sworn to myself that I will call you by your name when I've chosen to let go. I did since yesterday. And I'll ask of you one more time: call me by my name. "Candy" isn't really an ugly name, is it? LOL

I love you, Dan. Goodbye.

the lie.

2008-12-17T19:39:00.002+08:00

My celphone rang once, twice, thrice, and I wouldn't answer while I locked my gaze on the LCD. Why? You very well would know why. I'd been waiting diligently with these bored people right beside me on this greenish bench, wondering what took your cousin so long to arrive despite his warning and apology that he'd be coming to meet me later than he'd ever anticipated. I should've been suspicious about why he had seemed so out of character, bordering frantic, when he had asked to see me at lunch in a weekday, in a crowded mall of all places. Oh, I should've seen it coming, this trick that had me wrapped around your finger. I still couldn't shake off the shock even when I already whipped my head left to right and saw your sheepish yet smiling face instead of his stoic. I couldn't move even when you dropped in front of me, almost on your knees, and I tried to save what was left of my dignity by covering my face with a shaky hand. "It was all a lie, wasn't it? You are not even supposed to be here. Not today, no," I whispered, laughing, close to tears, confused. "I wanted to surprise you," you calmly replied, always so calm. I was so stupid.

the longest weekend.

2008-12-17T19:26:00.001+08:00

Your cunning schemes shocked me once again, but it was just this last time your biggest surprise tethered me speechless and so faint I couldn't even move from where I stood in my bedroom. This wasn't supposed to happen at all. It was too soon to see you again anyway. Were you trying to kill me? My heart was going to burst I could barely breathe. But, of course, you were only very amused, that victorious grin playing in your lips, a calmness that only you can achieve. Despite the whirlpool that left me dazed the rest of the afternoon, this faithless heart longed for what was lost the moment you turned around and left again.

the cheeseburger.

2008-12-17T19:23:00.002+08:00

“I’m not at all hungry.” The pout could be heard in my voice. It was either forced or half-true, and you didn't even notice the peculiar, heavy air that surrounded me. You slightly pushed me forward in the line and insisted that I decide on what to eat for mid-afternoon lunch. One shouldn’t miss on nourishment, you said as an afterthought. But did you know there really was no such thing in fast-food? I told you that I wasn’t in the mood for anything anyway. You wouldn’t listen, grinning in a smug sort of way and asking me what I would like to have for the fifth time with a tone of finality in your voice. I didn't flinch when you suddenly pinned me close to your body and rested your chin on the crown of my head, but still it was a gesture that I hadn't expected you would do in such a situation. But then again it was just the perfect place to be ourselves, where nobody knew us and nobody cared. It spawned bitterness somehow, the bile rising from the stomach to my mouth. I lost my appetite altogether.

the centerstage.

2008-12-17T19:20:00.002+08:00

Stage fright is a state of mind. And if I could get past that trouble, the audience wouldn't even remember my awkward stance, my face or my shaking voice. But that was just what the guitarist said to ease the tension in the cramped backstage and, of course, my hysterics. What if I forget a whole chunk of verse? What if I miss a note? What if I fall off the stage? What if? What if? What if? The freshmen had arrived, noisy and excited in their seats, while I was a nervous wreck behind these grand, yellow curtains that could barely hide my frowning countenance. Some of the upperclassmen, who had graduated months ago, even came to see the event that we painstakingly organized. And the org officers were making last minute preparations, almost yelling their heads off while simultaneously wringing the president’s neck at having forgotten an important detail with the speakers. “Hey, you alright?” I couldn’t believe the violinist just asked me that. The question was unfair, and I couldn’t even work on a sarcastic comeback at the moment, which really said something about how unstable my current psyche was. It didn’t help when someone announced that we had less than 10 minutes before the program should start. I sneaked one last, fleeting look at the audience, sighing at that, a little disappointed suddenly. It still had me reeling, your decision to let go of your passion. And now, you were off to some inevitable family business trip. I let the curtains drop. A couple more minutes and your plane would be leaving, too. In the flurry of mute and hurried gestures, somebody chucked your cousin's celphone to my ear. You just had to call me right in the middle of this turmoil and apologize for missing this relatively important event. I would really want to hear you on that stage, you said. My heart throbbed painfully, the shifting agitation making me faint. You just had to displace the last of my sanity as well. Not a little later, the lens and that blinking red light of the videocam that your cousin was carefully holding served as your eyes. The notes left my mouth, and a promise was made that day.

the postscripts.

2008-12-17T19:19:00.002+08:00

I shifted from one foot to the other, eyes looking at anything but your own. We've been standing on the hallway of the newly built and painted gymnasium, effectively blocking passersby, and we barely cared. It had been roughly 3 months since you had quit work, a little regretful, but it was an inevitable move and you had to go away for a month. I started writing letters to you, something that you said you were grateful of, something that I had to do to sort out these feelings. Maybe you realized that as you peered at my flushed face. Leaning on the wall and bouncing slightly on the balls of my feet, I couldn't tell if I was happy or sad to see you again. We were always confused about these things. I was only certain of a pang in my chest as we lingered longer without words. The letters healed me, calmed me, helped me pretend that I was not seeing something else, that I was not reading too much of things. Maybe I was being bitter again. There wasn't anything that you would say tonight that would make me explain why I seemed to be avoiding you, not even a sad gleam in those oriental eyes. By the next day, things would be back to normal.

the matched clothes.

2008-12-17T19:18:00.002+08:00

Let me breathe, please. How could you surround all of me with this unspoken distress? It suffocated, your misery that was mine alone. I didn't need you to do this, not when I should finally say it. And that strong hand behind my head, fingers threading in my unbound hair, had to bring me closer to your eager mouth, had to crush my momentum, had to make me forget what I was supposed to do. In this darkness, where I couldn't make out anything but your hovering silhouette, I screamed inwardly the words that would be forever trapped in my mind. This was just the beginning of our end.

the pink and white icing.

2008-12-17T06:47:00.003+08:00

I wasn't sure why I also have to be here in the dining room with your mom, your sister, your cousin, your mom's minions, and your trusted housekeeper. Grinning despite the dreary day, you situated yourself on the patriarch's seat, and I visibly relaxed at the information that your dad had somewhere else to be this morning. My self-esteem had suffered enough just having to stay for lunch around people that I barely know and to actually mingle. The mortification was evident in my every movement, but nobody had minded the girl with wire-rimmed glasses. All the women in that room had a comfortable conversation about your grandaunt's birthday party a few days back, and passed the colorful leftover cake around for dessert. I had stayed quiet, offering an awkward smile or a nod at appropriate occasions. There was barely anything on my plate and your sister had noticed. So she urged me to pitch some few slices. And while I yielded to her urging, you just had to call my attention by saying that name. Was it me or everybody had stopped moving for a second? Undaunted by the intrigued looks on the other women's faces, you asked about something that I couldn't just give an answer right away. Must be due to my initial shock or because I had to thank your sister with a faint blush on the face. You really have your ways of embarrassing me.

the rocking chair.

2008-12-17T06:46:00.003+08:00

Papers were strewn all over the dining table. I studied one in my hand as I picked it up to the dimmed light. "You made me come to your house to watch you check test papers?" I asked incredulously, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. "Am I even allowed to see these?" You laughed a little, the sound bouncing against the almost bare walls of your living room. "I'm sorry. I wanted to see you," you said something like that, steadily seated in that misplaced rocking chair, form awashed in shadows. I must've rolled my eyes to that effect, trying not to believe that you just said that. Moving behind you, I tried to push the chair to sway forward, but you caught my hands above your head and pulled me closer. My face burned at the contact, cursing to myself about not having foreseen this. Thankfully, the darkness left me some dignity. That grim expression on your face gave me the impression that you were a little strained by a lot of things lately. You wanted to be understood but everybody always took things the wrong way, and that was making you sad. I wanted to believe I could bring you this much peace, even just for tonight. Finally, you released me and started marking those neglected papers again. As expected, there were a lot more of X's than of checks, and the red ink blurred all the wrong answers on my classmates' papers. "You haven't marked mine yet." I voiced the observation when I accidentally had a glimpse of my untouched paper underneath somebody else's. You momentarily looked up. "I suppose so." There wouldn't be any way to know whose paper you're checking unless you memorized your students' ID numbers. "How...?" You went back to your work. "I would know if it's your paper. There's a certain scent on it." I lifted my paper to my nose, sniffing edges and spaces. "I don't smell anything." The interruption didn't faze you. "Really? Maybe you're used to your own scent that you can't find it." My own scent? I could hear the distant ticking of that clock on the wall. It seemed too fast in my ears. "You have unique, sweet smell." No. It was just my heart, hammering wildly again.

the expected return.

2008-12-17T06:45:00.002+08:00

It was finally that day. The graduates were ecstatic to a certain degree, and perhaps even light-headed at the ceremonies that wouldn't seem to end in this glorious Saturday. Classmates, who've become friends over the past few years, congratulated each other in advance and in masked relief. The black robes had become stifling as we anticipated the closing rites, most of us getting a little too impatient just standing. But there was a reason to celebrate, and it's not because we finally came out of college alive, even just barely so. Somebody made a comment about seeing you here. Isn't he supposed to be somewhere else? He asked me. I didn't bother listening to his next comment as my attention had shifted easily to the spectators who were standing in the upper right platform. By this time, I couldn't hear the noise that was steadily rising. My eyes had lifted themselves to your profile without effort. Now, there you were, casually leaning on the blue railing, unchanged and beautiful. You must've been watching me for a long time now because you knew I was going to see you there, smiling down at me. I allowed my own smile to pass my lips as I waved. I hope you're proud of me.

the song of goodbye.

2008-12-17T06:43:00.003+08:00

Here I was, standing in the stage with a hundred of pairs of eyes focused in my direction. The ground should swallow me whole already. But when the violin played the first few notes of the song, the platform under my sneakers wouldn't indulge my prayer. Never mind the crowd that formed in front, never mind the curious passersby gathering in the sides of the railing. All I was actually aware of was that unrelenting gaze in my right, in that exact position where you had been sitting. And you stared as if I was transparent enough and you could read my feelings. I hadn't even dared to look your way for the fear of breaking my last thread of confidence. In the most unlikely time, our dialogue 30 minutes ago just had to flash in my mind. You had told me your side of the story, and I was adamant in keeping my promise to your ex-girlfriend about finding out what was really happening. What I heard from you was something I never thought you'd say, and now the last few months had to come crashing back. It had nothing to do with me but it was still wholly unjust because we were back to ourselves again. Thankfully, I was able to keep a straight face, and you never knew why I had to look at anything but your face. Oh, yes, it hurts to want everything and nothing at the same time.

the comic book.

2008-12-17T06:42:00.002+08:00

It was amusing to watch you turn your back on me while you slid your limbs in those faded pants. Too late. I've seen a substantial amount of skin right there, what a nice view from where I'm sitting. I snorted in the effort of the unconscious (or otherwise) modesty. What are you doing? It was supposed to come out that way, but what I really said was: "I've seen more than that." Just then you realized what you did, the momentary shock written in your face. I had intended to laugh but I settled for a smirk instead. Me and my unusual vocal perverseness. You covered the distance in 3 steps instead of 6, surprising me in turn as you bent to my level on the floor and wiped that smirk in my face with a rather hasty, hard kiss. You always liked to get even.

the cloudless day.

2008-12-17T06:40:00.006+08:00

I studied the sparkling spring water quietly by myself while I drowned in the cacophony of splashing and mindless chatter in the other pool adjacent to where I chose to linger. One of us made a comment on the perfect weather. I heard her saying that there were absolutely no clouds this afternoon, the very contrast of that particular day a few months ago. It didn't take long for you to move beside me, joining me in the shallow waters and staying too close despite the deserted expanse. I hadn't seen you for the last 7 months, and the awkwardness of having to reacquaint myself to your company was more unnerving than I could ever imagine. The words that formed in your mouth were light, almost cautious and controlled as if you were sharing a secret that no one else should know. I stared at the swaying branches above our heads as you mentioned about her and the advice that you took from me, that one about speaking to ex-girlfriends again and making peace at last. Absentmindedly, I nodded at the account, more aware of the seeping sun rays through the green leaves than of where the talk was heading to. The soft light bounced on the water and created a luminous effect in that area as if it hadn't been bright enough already. Maybe you realized that I hadn't been myself today, mind afloat elsewhere and gaze fixed somewhere, on something unseen. But then this usually happened when I couldn't place my feelings, didn't know how else to react in your presence. It's quite unfair how you always knew how things would go, how my mind worked, what I'd say next, what I'd do when you surprised me with a tight embrace with everybody watching while telling me that you'd like to see me again in a few days before running off. You knew I wouldn't be able to move from that spot as I watched you leave.

the passion of christ.

2008-12-17T06:40:00.004+08:00

As usual, you were late again. I leaned on the smooth, cylindrical post, waiting diligently as I watched people animatedly walk past in this Sunday afternoon. If I checked my watch, it'd say that you should've been here 15 minutes ago. I tapped my loafers on the tiled floor, a manifestation of idleness. You didn't need to invite me to see this movie with you, not when you thought you should make up for last week. That guilt on your face when you made your way to me was the very thing that prompted you to see me this weekend. Is it out of pity? Because I don't need that. You muttered your apology, eyes smiling, and asked if I had been standing there for too long. I shook my head in reply. Almost an hour later, I was burying my face in your sleeve, hiding the tears, and you didn't even mind. How could you take me to watch such a sad movie? I cursed in my head. Later I figured that I must've been unconsciously affected of the mess I was getting myself into.

the comeback.

2008-12-17T06:39:00.003+08:00

There would always be something angry about the rain despite how it would look. Today wasn't any different. The day had started off calm, and of course, there were the sporadic grays in the skies that rather reflected my mood. Now, the downpour was steady against the windows, and seeing both of you again after all these months, the sober rain transformed to one of turbulence. This was one of those times that I'd rather not have come to these occassional rendezvous. It was infinitely awkward to see two guys that I had come to be fond of in the same setting. I couldn't be sure which stirred me more: his familiar, laidback expression, or your unusual jerky body language that ascribed to some nameless guilt that only I could notice. I was uncharacteristically sombre but everybody didn't quite notice, chattering excitedly about some joke and laughing about. I was expecting that he was the source of this uneasiness, the unfamiliar familiarity grating the senses like how it usually does when you get to speak to somebody that you haven't seen for some time and finding the interaction plain gauche. But, no. It had to be you. I know this because I was much more aware of your closeness when you noncommittally nudged me, and if I may boldly add, affectionately. And I hated it. I had to be angry again because you were not supposed to have affected me this way. No, not anymore. Not when you moved away and left me out on some secret that shouldn't have been. Oh, they have a name for this thing, too: bitterness, at its grandest ardor.

the river.

2008-12-17T06:38:00.001+08:00

I hollered at the sight of a man half-naked in his underwear in the side of the riverbank and in turn making everybody in my raft laugh with me. Your group had been behind mine, and you tsked your disapproval of my amused reaction too loudly for everybody to hear. I gamely stuck my tongue out to you, ignoring that pointed look that you were throwing in my way. What? The challenge was manifested in a carefully arched brow. But your eyes, those oriental eyes looked back with so much tenderness and silence that I could feel a cool shiver run up my spine despite the warm weather. You were most definitely the most selfish man I've ever known. You wanted me to think of only you.

the valley.

2008-12-17T06:37:00.001+08:00

The excursion out of town would be good for everyone, so you said. There wasn't anything to do in the short break, and we relished the idea of seeing everybody out of their university uniforms and more so the fun in the countryside and the promise of wilderness adventure. We should be going down the steep valley in pairs, you announced. You easily picked me for a partner, either out of familiarity of the choice or it was me you just saw first. I panicked for a second not by our mutual friends' reaction, but by my own flushed face. By now it wasn't new for everybody to see us together this way, closer than a professor and his student should be. You grabbed my awkward hand playfully and led me down, down the steepness. It might as well had been my feelings that we were walking on. I remembered how you kept me real close, as if almost afraid to lose me in the unfamiliar trek. When I saw that secret smile on your face again, I was so sure you were out to tease me for the umpteenth time today. My face must had resembled a tomato.

the rumors.

2008-12-17T06:36:00.001+08:00

You asked to see me that afternoon, to keep you company in your first students' graduation. That, or you just wanted to amuse yourself by poking fun at me. You always knew I'd concede to your every whim. So I went to see you. Standing beside me, weren't you too close for comfort? People had thought so, too. There had been a remark or two, but you never cared and even seemed amused to the point of teasing them further, and me. You grinned some more as you watched me pout. In the back of my mind I wondered if you anyway knew why I was with you that moment. You must had known, and it'd become too obvious in the way those eyes of yours rested on my face. The mirth was mocking me to no end.

the midterms.

2008-12-17T06:35:00.001+08:00

The unlikely day flashed in my mind for a brief moment, that one about what happened a few years back, that one about him. It spoke of a dimness, an amused laugh, a sudden and unexpected contact, a gasp that had escaped the lips, and of no words and infinite confusion. Closing the narrowing gap, you held me real close in the dark. It was the first time that you've done such thing, and you knew it was unnecessary as it was dangerous. It had been a fuel for everything.

It all passed in my yearning mind for a fleeting moment. That one about what happened a few years back, that one about him. Always about him.

the new year.

2008-12-17T06:31:00.003+08:00

I awoke not in the sudden, rude interruption of my own throaty rasping, but of that hand that held me steady and gently, offering a stroke and more on my bare back. I blinked in the dimness in what I thought was an unfamiliar room. What am I doing here? I asked my own hazy mind as I struggled to focus clearly at a familiar face that peered at me closely. The mattress was adjusted to cover my chilled shoulders, and a kiss on the cheek brought me back to the world and to recognition. I didn't think, never expected to find myself sprawled like this on your bed. My heart swelled at that small smile. "Good morning," you said in a voice almost of caution and at the same time of amusement. But I realized it wasn't even morning.

tribute to my failure: an essay entry for ENG 48.

2008-08-30T20:13:00.001+08:00

It had been more than once in the last two months that I was asked why I did not consider majoring in English the first time, or why I had not turned to AB English when I was in my junior year even when I already had the chance. Once or twice, I might have actually thought about it then but never actually cared too much of the future to do anything about my impending demise.

My parents could only suspect that my fondness of closer friends had been one of the main reasons why I stuck in Computer Science for too long, which to them seemed lame if it were really true. The truth was more foolish than their hypothesis: I was too comfortable of where I was despite the failing marks and the disappointments that I was consistently reaping. Eventually, my more determined friends went on to fulfill their ambitions and I was left behind, waking up one day bitter of my own carelessness and the unyielding apathy that impaled me to an ultimate downward spiral. What was worst, I felt anxious and confused to the point that I did not know what I wanted to do with my future. I was ready to quit.

But giving up should never be an option, a friend had said. By then I knew I had to deal with the consequences and to accept the retribution of my actions. People I knew would not stop living their lives just for me to be able to catch up to them, and chances at redemption are few. What happened was an effective wake-up call, and ultimately, after careful evaluation of my life in the past few years, I resolved to finish what I had started in the most diligent way I knew. I learned to appreciate my limitations and to work harder to improve myself. Finally achieving that aspiration after rising from the fall is just going to taste sweeter by the end of the day; my greatest failure have become my best inspiration.

For a while, I wondered what I would have been like if I were somewhere else, not having disappointed my parents and myself in that manner, and not having become aware of what I really wanted to do or what I was meant to become. Would I have been as inspired as I am right now? For now, I am grateful that I am where I should be.

You don't know me.

2008-08-14T02:25:00.021+08:00

I had been sitting on this lavishly upholstered furniture for some time now, waiting for him to turn up. It was not entirely a productive course of action to just watch every person traipse in and out of the café, expecting for an adventure to happen any time soon whilst tapping a lazy finger on the smooth coffee cup, suddenly stricken with nostalgia, because, after all, nothing favorable could ever come out of such sentimentality.

One swift look at my watch and I figured how it was already late. He had not yet turned up for our afternoon rendezvous, but I was surprisingly unfazed about it.

A rupture of brittle notes floated in my ears before it filled the empty air. A middle-aged man was languidly playing the baby grand piano on the plinth in the far corner of the dainty shop. Despite the agreeable atmosphere in the café there was somehow a misplaced impression that lingered in the air that instantly made me feel rather out of place. I sighed inwardly because I could not help it, thinking that he must have forgotten about this engagement.

I mulled over my espresso before I took another careful sip, fidgeting on my seat again, probably for the umpteenth time already and feeling all self-conscious that I was alone in a two-person booth. Everybody else within fifteen meter radius had company.

After settling the pasty demitasse on the polished table, I consciously tucked a stray lock behind my ear.

It was almost a sin to be all alone in a place like this, and the fact that I was solitary had become increasingly uncomfortable like something was about to jump off underneath my skin. I could not quite get rid of the strange feeling.

“Hey.”

In a painfully slow moment of choked sighs and widened eyes, I turned to look behind me, the arresting lazy haze of the coffee overlooked at once. The whole world had seemed to spin faster, had crashed and burned before my eyes in a fraction of a second, but it was the rush of caffeine that was making me so faint.

And then there he was, the one whom I had been waiting for, the man of my dreams, still looking like the way I always remembered him.

“Hey,” I said rather serenely as if reigning my emotions could not any more strain me further, gesturing for him to sit on the chair right across me with a burst of adrenaline running though my veins.

“So,” he started with that noticeable tilt in his deep voice, hanging his coat carefully on the backrest and running a hand to brush his messy brown hair away from those mesmerizing dark eyes that grazed my face effortlessly. “I haven’t seen you around lately. What have you been up to?”

“What have I been up to?” I murmured a recursion intentionally to give myself some time to think of a better response.

Distracting myself a lot lately, I told him in my mind. Or had been trying to.

“I’m making a dissertation for my Literature class, and I’m also working on this thing for the university paper,” instead I rattled on in the most haphazard way I knew and did not look in his eyes or even at his face as I did. He must have known how this tendency always betrayed the awkwardness I felt, but he was thankfully obliging in feigning nonchalance. “All these things are taking over my perfectly normal life. You probably know what I’m talking about. College stuff, driving me crazy. Already in our Senior year, and I’m still not used to the whole roller coaster schedule thing.”

“Fill me in.” He said, sounding almost interested as he leaned on the table, but that was naturally him, indulging at the right moments.

“Oh, no. It’s really nothing.” I forced myself to concentrate on the space between his ear and shoulder. Looking at his face now felt wholly sacrilegious.

You were never truly interested in anything. Not about me, at least, I cynically countered in my head as I finally averted my attention to the laughing couple who sat near the counter, fighting not to visibly wince at my off-putting thoughts.

“But you don’t know that,” he told me. To prove his point, he leaned closer with a slight twitch in the corners of his mouth, a grin forming on his peaceful face. It had been one of his quirks, an almost-habit that I had come to witness since time immemorial. “Don’t worry, I have all night.”

I swallowed an uncomfortable lump in my throat, over-thinking again before plunging head-first in the pool of confusion of my imagination.

“Well, don’t blame me later if I’ve bored you to death.” Thankfully, I managed to return a weak smile as I finally succumbed to the calls of nostalgia with a poorly disguised detachment before I started telling him about the things that made my world, things that were driving me insane, but I could not tell him about how he was fitted into all this.

Maybe it had really been that long that I could still forget how he could seem so engaged to my monologue, how his candid laughter could reflect his real feelings and how his eyes seemed to disappear when he smiled.

“It’s frustrating really,” he said later, absently stirring the cup of tea in front of him with a graceful silver spoon that glimmered against the dimmed lights behind him. A wry grin had graced his brooding countenance this time.

“What is?” I asked, intrigued by the undertone of bitterness in his voice. He had previously started talking about his own activities in a rather lighter mood, and now he was changed.

“I’m not even seeing anybody right now, and it’s still frustrating,” he replied without meeting my eyes.

I refused to remark on it because he would know I knew what it felt like.

“You’re not seeing anyone?”

The question was really for the sake of the conversation.

“No.”

This time I palmed one side of my face as I regarded him through hooded eyes, still wondering about what was really in that beautiful mind of his right that moment.

“No?”

“No.”

I supposed I could have asked him why, but since we were not the people we used to be I decided to leave the reason to himself. I should not be asking about these sort of things somehow because I knew it was not my place to even comment. We were not that kind of friends anymore.

So this was how it was going to be for us. Years had passed and we were separate people with different ambitions, different goals, different plans. I discovered as much when we discussed about more important matters, about life and the future.

“Are you alright? You’re quiet all of a sudden, and it’s sort of freaking me out.” He usually said things like this with an awkward grin to match, but it was more of a way to appease himself of whatever bad was to come when I was being unusually pensive in the midst of a somber conversation.

He reached out his hand to me, lightly resting it on the back of my own. It was a gesture that was achingly familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. It was disturbing that it was just like the past.

This was the adventure that I had been anticipating since I let go of my thoughts, and now I was almost regretting it.

Just then this traitorous heart was curiously pounding harder against my chest with the slightest unexpected physical contact, and just then I realized I had been staring at the cooled coffee for a while now, wishing to be anywhere else but this place, previous thoughts falling by the wayside in that instant.

“You know, you can’t really get all the things you want. Even those that you really want so bad, no matter how hard you try. Life’s just like that.”

It’s just not meant to be, is it?

His words that breached my thoughts puzzled me right in that moment as if I could not been any more bemused. In the caffeine-induced dialogue, I was suddenly thinking about him and me in the middle of our conversation.

Him. And me.

“Hey.” That voice was the warmest velvet. I could not remember if I was able to fight a wince from relaying my emotions. “Say something.”

“I’m fine,” I bluntly replied, breaking off the entrancing gaze before he could pull me deeper in those balmy obsidian pools that were his eyes, and immediately I pulled my shaking hand away, gravely contradicting my last statement. It was not the time to care anymore.

By now it was steadily raining outside the ornate windows, a lethargic downpour of mercury that should not be present while the overcast blush of dusk was replacing the afternoon skies. It was by far the saddest picture I had seen today.

“Is that the truth?” He asked another tragic question.

With unstable breath and closed lids, I tried to repress the dull ache that would not go away, the memory of the days that were long gone, and the feelings that should not be there any longer.

It had been wrong right from the start.

“Yes, of course, it is,” I said, sounding harsher than I intended to. My breath had hitched and my chest was just about to burst.

Why can’t it be meant to be?

Confusion painted his usually indecipherable face, and something else like an old guilt. He was so different and yet so constant that it broke my heart to a thousand pieces.

“What were you really thinking of?” The rich baritone of his voice ricocheted in my head, a sound that I had gotten accustomed to.

I could not tell him.

I could not tell him I was thinking about him and me and before.

“Nothing,” I rejoined, but he was not at all convinced.

Something in the air changed that I was almost choking.

“Are you running away again?” He did not even care for my self-preservation anymore, and he rarely spoke without thinking it through.

Before I could remove my other hand on the table he simply captured it in a firm grip, determined to keep me trapped.

“Don’t do this again—please.”

Subtleties were so out of the question now.

My eyebrows creased at his audacity to say such things now. A heavy blur of tears clouded my sight but I knew he had the softest look on his face while he painfully begged. I wanted to believe that he had never wanted to let go, but of course that was far from the truth.

I can’t do it. I can’t. You don’t know that...please don’t make me say that I still—

“Am I so late?” A very harassed man, whose trench coat was almost soaked through with rain, had made his way to our booth in turn interrupting the thick tension with the rhetorical anti-climactic question.

The fragile balance in the air was once again restored, the other patrons’ animation a surprisingly dreary change of scenery.

“Jack.” I could not be more grateful to Jack for the sudden digression. I was not sure what could have happened if he had come a few seconds too late.

It was strange that while Jack was trying to explain while profusely apologizing in between all I could hear was the poignant music that the piano was producing that mingled with the echo of the beating rain, mist descending to my already muddled thoughts.

“Jack, you remember Ethan, right? We’ve been friends since Freshman year.”

It was all I could say about him. We had never been more than that anyway because, as pitiful as it would sound, he had not allowed a relationship like that.

No matter what, I could not pull away from those defeated obsidian spheres even if the hand that held mine had long before liberated it.

“Of course, I do. I’m sorry, I didn’t know Rachel had company.”

“No, forgive me. I didn’t know she was waiting for anyone. She had looked so out of place and lonely.” His effortless smile was back in place as he gracefully shook Jack’s hand in acknowledgment.

“Thank you for keeping my girlfriend busy while I suffered under the dreadful deluge, my fault for making her wait anyway.”

Girlfriend? I was sure that was the question in his eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” He asked noncommittally but there was a sense of betrayal in his tone, and I could only make out a guilty smile for him.

I don’t know. Maybe because I didn’t want to.

“We’ve been seeing each other for almost two years now,” I supplied too readily, the tears rising once again with the bile that did not leave my system.

“Have we really stopped speaking to each other that long?”

It was a rhetorical statement that I was almost deigned to respond if only to satisfy my masochistic tendencies.

I wasn’t running away. You pushed me away, and eventually, I fell out of the loop, and we just stopped being friends altogether.

“I’m sorry but we really don’t have much time now. Jack and I are actually late for a meeting. It had started about thirty minutes ago, too,” I apologized to him, giving him my hand, which he received and gave a melancholic squeeze.

This was the inevitable goodbye, a closure that did not happen years ago, a conclusion that I did not really need when I was just remembering how much I still knew all about him.

“Goodbye, Ethan. I’ll see you around, alright?”

“Sure,” he said in a rather sorry voice.

The delicate open bars of the piano and percussion permeated the cheerless ambiance.

“You have a great night, Ethan.”

“Take care of her, Jack,” he extracted one last cryptic undertaking before Jack confusedly acceded with a nod.

When we reached the door, I dared one last fleeting glance at his face, wanting to immortalize that final remembrance, but he was not even looking at me. His exclusive attention was locked on the woman singing by the piano in the scaffold.

You give your hand to me and then you say hello,
and I can hardly speak, my heart is beating so.
And anyone can tell you think you know me well,
but you don’t know me.

“Is something the matter?” Jack asked me quietly when I eventually ceased on my tracks.

No, you don’t know the one who dreams of you at night,
who wants to kiss your lips and longs to hold you tight.
To you I’m just a friend, that’s all I’ve ever been,
because you don’t know me.

“Nothing. I was just...thinking,” I told him pensively when he pierced through my trance, hating myself for being such a coward, for wanting so many things. With a weary sigh, I went back on Jack and me.

“You know, maybe I’ll just go alone and you stay here. I’ll just pick you up later. I don’t suppose the chief’s going to keep us that long anyway.”

“It’s okay, really.” I offered an assuring smile that could not reach my eyes.

“If you say so. But if you still want to stay—”

I shook my head with an air of finality before I slipped my fingers between Jack’s. It was a guilty act of distracting him. I knew for sure that if I had chosen to stay longer, the past was just going to catch up on me again.

Jack gave me a long look as if trying to read what was in my mind. He only beamed mysteriously when a minute had passed and curled his long fingers against mine before he led me out the café.

I have to move on.

*****

You give your hand to me and then you say goodbye.
I watch you walk away beside that lucky guy.
No, you’ll never, never know the one who loves you so,
because you don’t know me...

How could I just watch her leave like that?

the art of make-believe: an essay entry for ENG 48.

2008-07-28T16:05:00.002+08:00

It was my best friend’s graduation yesterday, and I wanted to give him something as a graduation present. Before I went to see him, I contemplated if I still needed to wrap the sign pen that I was going to hand to him. In my mind I knew he’s the type of person who didn’t care too much about gift-wrapping, but since I have been a firm believer in presenting gifts in a rather formal way, and in an occasion such as this no less, I finally decided to succumb to the practice.

It would have seemed odd to people, who didn’t know of our history, that I chose to give a pen of all things symbolic to our friendship, but I didn’t need to explain how it was a special thing. When I finally showed my best friend the reason why I asked him to see me that afternoon, he might already had known what was underneath the carefully crafted covering even before he had it in his hands. Even so, there was something arcane about wrapped presents, something that creates that unique moment in spite of our own private coffee time. It was ironic that my friend still held the gift carefully despite the anticipation and started to open the layers of paper cautiously. That smile that formed on his face told me that wrapping this seemingly unimportant thing was worth it. It certainly created the mood of eagerness of receiving a memory.

to my dearest.

2008-01-10T01:46:00.001+08:00

I'm writing this just in case I'm unsuccessful with calling you tonight, January 10 of 2008. The reason why I wouldn't have made the call would either be: cowardice, OR regret on the plain stupidity of wasting the only opportunity I'd ever have a few hours back.

Yes. I told you I needed to tell you something. You hadn't persuaded me enough to say it this evening, but it's not really your fault.

I was supposed to vocally tell you that I love you, in your face, while I would still be able to see your reaction after I would've said it. But, no. I chickened out on the very last minute, pretending I was dozing off, playing apathetic and uninterested. But, of course, I was actually afraid of whatever your reaction would be, unnerved of the possibility that you'd not say it back, because we know for a fact that you don't anymore, and haven't said it in the last 12 months. I know, because I remember when the last time had been (I'm cursed of almost always remembering things like these). And, you told me you only say it when you mean it.

Now I hadn't done what I had originally planned, even after making speeches on paper towels at work. I almost killed myself in doing so, because, as much as I hate to admit, it hurts having to say I love you and not knowing what your response would be. It's like my chest would explode anytime and I'm so confused I almost missed my point again, and I had to write a new speech that hopefully wouldn't sound too selfish and demanding and desperate. I must've overwhelmed myself again. That or I have become guilty because I had almost given up on you for reasons I had chosen to forget. But I love you, very much, and just waited even if I wanted to stop.

Now I know why I'd always, ALWAYS feel so nervous when you'd ask to see me. Because I don't know how I should act around you anymore, even after we've hung around together for a hundred times, being too comfortable on some rare occassions. I'm not simply being silly. I am so confused about what exactly I am to you. I guess--no, actually, I know that I'd rather be ignorant of things just for them to stay the same, maintaining the balance of everything than hear it from you. But, aren't you getting tired of it? Because I am. It's like I'm playing around with you, waiting for too long for something that wouldn't happen, confusing myself with directions, losing the point, forgetting your reasons why we are stuck here, why we should be just stuck here. I am really, really sorry. Did I confuse you? I confused myself more by asking too many questions. But maybe I wanted to finally risk knowing about things now even if it will just hurt me more by hearing the truth. I wanted to say all these a few hours ago but I am not the one to relate such without hiccoughing all the way through my speech, choking badly because of the tears that'd reached my throat. I think I am getting better at keeping my miserable emotions at bay, even when you gently urge me to look at your face.

haaaay...

You know, I just realized lately, thinking about the past few weeks, about the reason why I wanted to stay near you. Seeing your face and that smile, I feel like I've come home. You hold my memories of the last five years, you see. I've carefully written of reflections, chronicled situations and experiences like as if I'm too scared of losing my memories to time. I hadn't even thanked you for all the things you've done, for what you've taught me, for the influence, for the impression that you've left in my life. Thank you so much for everything. I wouldn't regret anything but I just wish I had a clearer idea of some things.

When you read this it'd be Monday, and I wouldn't be around because I'd be hiding (which is what I'm only good at), and you'd say sorry. Again. Because that's what you said the last time and I couldn't quite get what you're really apologizing for. We're in this together and you pretty much know what we are getting ourselves into, so why apologize? I'd appreciate answers better, you know. Another sorry would just hurt me more than you'd ever know.

But know that I still love you, possibly still in love with you, too (because they are actually 2 different things in my opinion). I hope I'm still alive by the time I send this because my heart is about to shrink. It must be just the restlessness.

Take care. I wish I had been braver. But then that was what I'd wish for the last time and I haven't really changed much.

Love,
Candy

Desire, despair.

2007-07-07T02:19:00.003+08:00

He certainly looked reasonably unsure when he showed me his present for me, and for a second I worried for my own reaction.

I could hear the rain breaking against the roof of this car we were in.

When he handed the green package to me I knew my eyes must’ve considerably widened.

“Oh!”

This is quite a feat. How could he think that you’d hate this?

I always thought he’d be so confident anyway. I didn’t know what he was uncertain of, or didn’t understand why he should feel uncertain at all.

“You shouldn’t have...” I began, unsure of what else to say.

He didn’t move from his seat as he observed my face cautiously.

“How could you have thought that I wouldn’t even love this?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, looking almost wavering again.

A broad grin made its way on my face.

“You know how I’d always love everything you’d give me,” I told him peacefully like how many times before.

“But I don’t want you to love it just because I gave it to you.”

A certain memory came back to me all of a sudden. That one about sacrificing something just to make someone happy.

He did say once that giving could be an expression of love.

I wondered if I could also be capable of doing it, and if I could make him happy in any way.

My free hand gently held one side of his face.

“I love it. Thank you.” I meant it.

Finally, he allowed a small smile to pass his lips.

Dialogue from a few days ago had become perennial, doggedly persistent, much to my chagrin. But I somehow allowed myself to stray in these thoughts while I could still see him.

The skies dulled even more so when it finally started to drizzle. While the wind was wispy and cold, everything was moving wearily before me. It somehow seemed that way from where I was currently standing.

And even now everybody appeared mechanical despite the faint grins and lively chatters in that area.

I leaned on the yellow railing that held the crowd at bay. The pre-departure area was limited to the either anxious or excited passengers waiting for their flights.

My gaze trailed his smiling face, so piercingly that I was amazed he didn’t feel my eyes on him.

Drops of delicate rain fell on my face as I continued to watch from afar. I could make out my name in his mouth when he said it, his oriental eyes scanning the faces of those who stood close to him.

I waved my free hand before I stepped closer to his crowd.

“What were you doing there?” He asked when he met me halfway.

I merely shrugged before I sensed the coat that I’ve been wearing was again sliding slowly off my shoulder where his last kiss rested. I rearranged the coat for the twelfth time since we arrived in the airport.

He smiled—too brightly in fact as if he wasn’t leaving again.

That twinge of pain was never one to be reflected on my face. I grinned back at him, even if the smile was anyway stiff for my liking.

But of course I still refused to look up to his face as he said his jovial goodbye.

Look anywhere but to those eyes. You know how those could easily catch any emotion in that face of yours.

The awkwardness that this meeting had brought us still hadn’t left me. I didn’t understand why I had suddenly forgotten how to act in front of him now or why he or I was too quiet again.

You didn’t expect how this thing could be much different from the last time. Everything is about to start here, now.

“What?” I gracelessly asked him with a nervous grin on my face.

The question almost sounded like an automatic statement, and as if it was something rehearsed.

His intense stare was unrelenting and steady. But just then I felt it, that contained longing in his gaze that gradually dissolved whatever discomfort I was starting to feel again. Those soft oriental eyes of his roved my countenance with such clear gentleness that I was sure I myself was going to melt.

He didn’t even say it out loud, and I was so sure I could feel it. It was so emotional that I was moved. It left a pool of warmth in me.

But impulse imposed that I should look away, to the rain that insisted on pouring outside the window. I didn’t know what else to say, and I didn’t know if I deserved this kind of attention from him.

That look on his face was just too much for my small heart to take, I supposed.

It was a surprise that I didn’t distract him with a hasty kiss to stop him from staring at my face too much. I figured that maybe I secretly enjoyed this moment with him because nobody ever watched me that way.

“It’s raining,” I commented insignificantly.

That had broken the silence. Nevertheless, it was something welcomed.

In the corner of my eyes I saw him finally turn his attention to the rain.

“It’s raining because I’m here again.”

Ah. Yes, of course.

I turned to him again, wanting to say so much more but finding myself rather too nervous again to utter anything.

He watched me again as if he’d never grow tired of watching.

Things were so much different three months ago. Everything was moving too agonizingly slow now.

“May I kiss you?” I asked rather childishly, suddenly, not knowing how else to say it.

The words sounded clumsy when I said it, but I leaned closer to him anyway and gave him a quick kiss that wasn’t even enough to tell him how much I missed him.

I love you, I wanted to say, you have no idea how happy I am right now just seeing you here again. However, the statement was left unsaid as I took in his stare.

I love you, I suddenly wanted him to say it to me.

I wouldn’t care if he’d say it in a hasty whisper. I just needed to hear these words right now while I could still see him and while the past days where still so fresh to me.

But he simply smiled again, making this dread sink deeper in me when he said his goodbye again in a cheerful voice.

I sighed inwardly.

Sometimes I could be tired of perpetually pretending that things were alright.

“I love you.”

When he said it this time I was caught in a reverie.

“Didn’t you wonder why I didn’t even say it on the phone last night? I wanted to personally say it,” he sincerely pressed, taking in that surprised look on my face. “I love you.”

His voice was endlessly thoughtful and warm like the glorious sunset behind him.

I felt my heart swell with the unforeseen declaration, and I realized that I believed him this time.

Why do you look so happy? Don’t look so happy.

It had been a great effort in my part not to weep over this farewell.

He scanned my face, most likely anticipating a pained expression.

But there had been no indication whatsoever, only a dull brown in these eyes that stared back.

And I knew my eyes were already shining before I furiously blinked.

“Ken-chan,” he mumbled the name, searching this face that was reflective and facing away from his eyes.

I made a small sound that told him I was listening to him.

“What are you thinking? And what’s this look?”

It wasn’t intended when I met his stare.

“It’s nothing really.” I turned away again to the stationary vehicles far ahead and to the white concrete walls behind them.

I had never stopped this bad habit of lying to him this way.

Somehow this limited space that the passenger’s seat offered was making me claustrophobic again.

“Why are you sad, Ken-chan?” He asked a different question this time, knowing I was lying again earlier. “Aren’t you happy that I am here again?”

“You have only been here for two days, and you won’t be gone until weeks from now...but it really feels like you’re leaving anytime soon,” I finally confessed too instantly that my eyes were shining again.

He chose to trail his gaze on anything but my sad eyes.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s crazy, but I can’t help it.”

He enclosed my form in a tight embrace, and I welcomed the warmth that it brought me.

It was easy and useless to imagine that he’d even kiss me in this open parking lot where everybody could see us.

I resolved that it was merely wishful thinking that he’d even lean closer without considering so much of the people around.

He had successfully cut off my words again, silencing me with his warm lips.

“You were saying, Ken-chan?” A familiar smirk was on his face when he asked me, and his eyes, which were actually deep brown when I looked real close that day, were brighter and more playful.

I glared at him again before I started to continue with my speech that he had rudely interrupted for the second time.

“As I was saying, Lee and the others must be—”

There went another interruption in a form of a tender kiss. Though it was almost given in haste, the pleasant sensation stayed behind as blush thoroughly rose to my ears.

When I heard his light laugh ringing in my ears I decided that he wasn’t just amused of my reaction.

Is it because you’re with him right now?

I wish I could believe it.

He looked genuinely happy at that moment with those gentle oriental eyes gleaming in delight.

He diligently fixed the falling coat back to my shoulder.

I simply studied the hand that held the clothing in place.

My breath caught in my throat as I allowed myself an inevitable gasp.

Darkness filled the space as rain kept on pouring and as the dusk persisted on breaking.

He had leaned closer, distracting me with a fierce kiss as he was slipping his adept hand that was later gradually rising inside my outsized coat and shirt.

He managed to release the clasp without so much difficulty, and managed a satisfied smirk against my mouth.

I pouted childishly, somehow keeping my eyes firmly closed.

The touch on my skin was substantially slight at first, almost a cautious experiment. After seeing I wasn’t making any protest he claimed more flesh.

My body collapsed against the stiff upholstery just as he coaxed me to rise.

Slow and deep came in my breathing. I refused to release my sight to this enigmatic reaction.

And you were so afraid the last time.

I must’ve been so much braver now.

That clever tongue of his teased the inside of my ear, making me dizzier of this joined stimulation with his hand that never left my trembling body.

It felt like it have been hours that we’ve stayed this way.

A small hand uncertainly snaked to his neck just before I boldly captured his mouth.

I melted against his strength.

Now this oversized coat was again out-of-place.

I didn’t complain and was even thankful of the only contact I received from him.

Our hands momentarily touched before we parted. I had wanted to feel more of his warmth but I didn’t insist with the urge to catch that hand that didn’t really linger.

Hold me again, for the last time...

I ended up just watching that hand return to his side.

I had sat across him, and he held out his hand to me.

I gaped for a minute before I decided to finally rest my hand on it, feeling its touch, making incoherent patterns on his open palm.

The road back wasn’t as pleasant as the first road we had taken hours ago. But none of us minded.

I thought I was going to find a small smirk. Instead, a calm smile enhanced his countenance. And the tenderness in those oriental eyes swept the uneasiness in me only to replace fulfillment.

I hadn’t been used to the look but I decided it wasn’t so bad at all.

Nobody cared too much of these two people who held hands this way in the most unlikely place, in the most unlikely time, with the most unlikely crowd.

If anybody cared, I didn’t let it bother me too much.

No, not with this one sweet moment.

Cold wind swayed the young trees that surrounded the parking lot, breezing through cruelly. But I was shivering for a much different reason.

Was I happy? Have I ever been?

I casually bid him goodbye, careful not to spill any tears of this parting as I flashed him a wider smile that must’ve looked fake now.

He waved for the last time before he finally disappeared in the throng of busy passengers and airport officers.

Are you happy?” There came the most unlikely question of the moment.

“Of course! I am happy. I’ve always been,” I supplied quite readily.

I was making circles on his free hand again like I always did. The action had become an accepted routine to us.

That subtle glow of the afternoon sun pierced through the smoked windows in his side, the restful shadows of the trees dancing against our own movement.

“No. I meant, are you happy...with me?”

The winding freeway was deserted as he drove us quietly ahead. The empty houses and barren trees along this road appeared rather blurry this time, completely distant and vague.

I didn’t have to look up to him to emphasize my serious reply.

“Of course.”

Because that small smile on my face was enough punctuation anyway.

It was actually startling that I could still feel him near me, could still remember how he smelled—how it was so comforting that it filled my senses.

The sheets and pillows beneath me smelled incredibly of him—fresh, strong, and utterly intoxicating.

I sat still, careful not to move too much as I was afraid I would wake him in his deep slumber.

He looked so peaceful like that, I decided as I found his expression so serene and fragile. It had been so much different from his usual façade.

I fought the strong urge to come closer to his face and kiss him. I didn’t want to disturb this quiet moment anyway.

It had been quite a while before he finally stirred and opened those eyes, finding me staring at him with a small smile on my face.

“Have you just been staring?”

There came the question in the dimness of this room, his voice hoarse.

I finally moved from my position, coming closer to him, almost crawling.

“For how long?”

The second question escaped his thoughts, voice clearer this time.

“For a while,” I replied finally, too calmly, too softly.

He motioned me to come much closer to him.

“Why?”

He was always the curious one between the two of us.

The silence seemed to stretch eternally between us.

“No reason.” I shrugged carelessly.

Those eyebrows furrowed on his forehead.

“Why?” He asked again, curiosity out of the question in his tone of voice.

My gaze deftly returned to his serious face. That look had been previously delicate.

“I’ve wanted to watch you like this since I could not remember when.”

That had been the truth but I wasn’t sure if he trusted it.

He snuggled me close to him, tucking me in his firm embrace.

Right at that moment I could swear his scent was already a permanent memory in my mind.

I suddenly felt the impulse to spin around, expecting to find him standing there again in the same spot where he had previously left me.

But of course, it was what I wanted to believe. Everybody in that breadth was suddenly reminding me of him.

The delusion that this nostalgia brought me was slowly driving me insane.

I must’ve become too used of seeing him, and of being with him like I had three months ago, like these past few weeks.

His speech was fast and light when he carelessly made fun about not being able to come back if he took that flight back from the city in the north.

I balefully glared at him for saying such a thing, hoping in my mind that he wouldn’t jinx himself.

“It’s not really a good thing to joke about,” I huffed, grimacing almost in disgust that he was saying this again just when everything was alright.

“What, do you want to die already?”

Do you want to leave me already?

His grin faded as his face took a serious light.

“Ken-chan...you know how it’s possible, right?” He said grimly, anyway concentrating on the busy highway. “The plane can crash anytime, and I—”

I let out an exasperated sigh as I bashed my left hand on my seat to keep him from saying anything that I didn’t want to hear.

Stop it...I don’t want to hear it, I dejectedly told him in my mind, shrinking almost visibly from where I sat.

“I know how it’s possible, but you don’t need to say this right now!” When I said it eventually I sounded really frustrated, and seemed as if I was about to cry any second from now.

The music that was coming out of his radio was fast and cheerful as opposed to the distressing tension in his car.

Those oriental eyes mirrored remorse. Despite of this he didn’t take back the things he had just said.

“What would you do if it ever happened?”

I forced myself to stare ahead, though I could swear I couldn’t see anything at all in this blur that filled my sight.

“I don’t know,” I muttered in a smaller voice.

He asked me to say it again.

“I don’t think I’d ever want to wake up from that nightmare again,” I shakily replied, but louder this time.

The answer wasn’t probably something he wanted to hear that his frown deepened.

“You should forget about me and go on with your life.”

“But I wouldn’t want to...I don’t think I’d be able to.”

He made a sharp turn around the corner.

“I don’t want you to be dependent of me...I want you to be happy, Ken-chan—even without me,” he told me in a quiet voice.

I bit my lip to hold myself from these emotions.

But that is asking too much. It’s just not fair at all. How could I be happy again?

After he finally parked the car on the side, he held my hand.

“Whatever happens—I want you to remember that I love you...very much,” he spoke to me softly with the most sincere eyes before he pulled me close and kissed the crown of my head. “Please remember that.”

By this time the passengers of the next flight were already boarding the plane that had arrived earlier.

And by this time I was remembering how his hands held me—how they were once sensual and rousing.

I trembled in quiet pleasure as his hands roved from that bind to the oversensitive skin that was burning despite the icy air in this room robbed of illumination.

He had slipped off that seemingly offending garment off my arms and thrown it above my head just before he tentatively caressed the flesh that peaked. His action eventually segued to a balmy massage that stole my sanity away.

I stridently hissed at the cool kiss his lips left and breathed in sharply when those lips claimed that diminutive height.

Did you want this?

He skillfully slithered his hands from my body to my bare legs to my hips.

I didn’t know what I want. I still don’t know what I want. I just know I want to be with him.

An explicit knead on my navel shut whatever reason was left in me.

The things you do to me...

Something inside me was building, excruciatingly anticipating of whatever was to come.

It was only satisfied when I realized he was touching me in that sweet spot with his clever tongue, almost drinking greedily whatever it was he found addictive in that center.

My shaking hands held his hair and the back of his head, almost coaxing and asking for more despite the tremors I was carefully holding in.

It was getting harder to control myself from crying out that I was biting my lower lip for restraints, bruising it again and again.

The satisfaction felt just like the first time.

Blinding colors filled my vision as I almost froze in place. Breathing was suddenly overrated.

I shut my eyes close, shaking myself off of this recollection.

I wasn’t supposed to recall that day, not when his plane was taking off in fifteen minutes.

I wasn’t able to open my eyes for good while, even as I was crazily kissing him and feeling him against me.

Each stroke and touch drove me insane that I was reeling terribly in expectation. Stopping was just an impossible thought.

I never knew it existed in me, sexuality and such. I thought I would be forever a child, naïve and unaware of things. I wanted to believe I was somehow desirable, and that I was capable of making him feel this way. I wanted to believe I had grown to be a woman for the second time this week.

I must’ve grown to be one when I heard a moan escape his lips. That slight contact had made him throw his head back against his pillows.

“Are you afraid?” He had asked me in a flimsy sigh four days ago, eyes hazy and intensely yearning.

If I were then I wouldn’t have come and allowed you to claim me this way. I’m yours. Here, now.

However, I hadn’t said that verbally as I decided it was rather too childish, foolish. I settled for a single word and a steady hold of his face.

“No.”

It was the second time that I suppressed my own sighs with intense inhalation.

I love you, he murmured finally before his demanding kisses wove fascinating patterns against my swollen lips, exciting me in various degrees despite its ferocity. If the demanding kisses had been a punishment for my constant nips on his lower lip and tongue, they were just so incredible to be called one.

My hair, sinewy and tangled, was pooling on his mattress.

I couldn’t feel the cold this time as my blood boiled in exhilaration.

The wind picked up again just before the rain finally poured in, distracting me from my former thoughts that had me wrapping myself when the warmth had left me all of a sudden. The coat was nonexistent against this internal chill.

I wondered if the rain would ever stop this time. The clouds were much darker, much more threatening now. It was only logical to think that a storm was brewing in the horizon.

“The skies...it’s going to rain again soon,” I said thoughtfully, declaring the obvious as I watched the dark clouds loom in the late afternoon skies.

I didn’t mean for the words to sound so miserable, but I couldn’t help myself.

“The skies are grieving because I’m leaving again,” he almost mumbled his answer, sounding as if it was a matter of fact.

He must be right anyway. It had also rained the day before he left three months ago.

My hold on the white upholstery beneath me told me I wasn’t ready to see him go again.

With sullen and monotonous eyes I observed the clouds that developed into stable yet unrelenting rain that fell down in waves.

The plump raindrops shattering against my window would always remind me of him going away as well.

I had mumbled a quiet thank you to Kevin’s older sister and her three other companions who were kind enough to drop me off to my road.

The ride back was silent, dreary and short. Nobody seemed to know what to say to each other after the cab left the airport. I didn’t mind the peace too much anyway.

Just as the cab sped away my shoulders noticeably sagged.

I was alone again. The silence reigned the empty street, and I started to walk under the rain.

Despite the book in my hands I couldn’t concentrate on the humor that the comics where rendering.

I buried my chin deeper to one of his larger pillows, rereading the fifteenth page just because I couldn’t quite understand the comedy.

He suddenly plopped himself on his bed and positioned himself in a way that he’d be facing my side.

“Why do you always insist on sitting on the floor while you read?”

I could feel a curious smile gracing his face as he stared at my own.

I didn’t even drop the book to acknowledge his presence. It was one of the moments that I wished he’d not recognize that sad gleam in my eyes. I wanted him to leave me be to wallow in my grief.

His cologne mingled with the fresh scent that was engraved on his pillows and mattress. It was becoming much more difficult to focus on my reading.

“Don’t,” he said dotingly, kneading my brows that were knitted close together.

I decked his hand away, finding it much more distracting than his mere presence.

“I’m reading,” I rejoined almost sardonically, eyes still stubbornly trained on the fifteenth page.

Two minutes later he removed the comic book from my loose hold and made me look to his warm brown oriental eyes.

“I’m leaving tomorrow.”

It wasn’t the usual two words from months ago, but it shattered that fragile comfort I so closely kept inside me.

“Yeah, you’re leaving again. So?”

In my eyes a bitter smile was carefully reflected, my face a mask of poorly disguised pain. However, the pillow prevented him to completely see my whole expression.

His scent floated in the air as he moved closer.

“Will you cry again?” He questioned in a faint voice, holding that gaze.

I chose to stay silent for a while as I lost myself in those deep pools that were his eyes.

They read sadness and longing again.

“I will try not to,” I answered at last, averting finally.

He traced my left eye with a gentle thumb, catching an imaginary tear.

Closing my eyes, I instinctively leaned closer to his hand, almost in desperation.

“It’s alright to cry, Ken-chan,” he whispered affectionately, soothingly.

I shook my head.

But I’m tired of crying.

“I love you.”

He caught my lips shortly in a tender kiss that took away my tears.

It was also one of the moments that I believed in goodbyes.

I was too caught up in my convoluted train of thought to realize that I was already on the ninth house.

How this overwhelming longing I felt earlier was slowly dissipating I didn’t know.

But my feet instantly ceased their action when I heard the shrieking noise of a plane that had took off.

I didn’t know how the rain could be so warm and how it was capable of blurring one’s vision.

It is always the same, isn’t it? This thing called goodbye?

The memories of him had left me empty.

[december 24, 2005-january 7, 2006]

Maybe tomorrow

2007-07-07T02:17:00.004+08:00

“Hey, sleepy head, wake up already.”

I almost decided on throwing my heaviest pillow to the bearer of that obnoxiously loud voice but in a split second realized that it would be too much work in my part.

“Hey.” My sister began to poke me on the ribs.

The poking actually hurt but I refused to budge.

“Hey. It’s like past eight in the morning, and you just missed breakfast with everybody.”

Still, I wouldn’t move. It was strangely delicious to remain immobile on my warm bed while my sister was whining.

Everything fell eerily still suddenly, and I was beginning to worry that my sister was planning of pulling me out of my bed, making me drop on the cold tiles in a painful plop. I would fall off the bed to the floor for at least a good 4ft.

“Hmmm...What could you have been up to last night that drained your energy reserves?”

I scowled at my anyway grinning sadist of a sister after I’ve made an effort to move my head to face her side.

Nothing that should concern her, that’s what.

“Shut up. Lemme sleep,” I mumbled intelligibly despite the pillow on my face. My hair stuck out angrily in many directions but I couldn’t care less.

You couldn’t take your mind off of that kiss. Admit it, you’re smitten.

It was crazy. It was just then I realized that yesterday was a crazy experience, and I found myself not regretting over it.

But you couldn’t sleep anyway until dawn broke and you could feel those bags under your eyes growing.

“Damn it!”

My sister, who was now standing by the French windows, jerked her head to my side, an incredulous look in her eyes.

“Geez, what is wrong with you now? I didn’t even poke you again.”

I scowled again.

That kiss was also troublesome. Wonderfully weird just as he liked to quote it, but equally troublesome. I really must be obsessed as my mind insinuated.

Me and my traitorous loud thoughts.

Saturday was a normal day.

We really owed it to the mutual vacant schedules we had two years ago. If it hadn’t been for it, he wouldn’t have asked if he could see me in thirty minutes, and I wouldn’t have been in the deserted university library, waiting patiently and sleepily.

Alone on a table in the far right side of the library, I absentmindedly tinkered with his early birthday present for me, wondering why he even bothered to give me something this expensive.

This is too much trouble for fondness, don’t you think?

I argued for my mind for a long while, insisting that it had been all because he hated how he couldn’t call me whenever he wanted to.

That’s lame. Your own mother even thinks there is something to it.

I was seriously not going to start on doubting but I was getting bemused again anyway.

You’re the only one who confuses yourself. Everything is as clear as a day. You love him, he says he loves you. Why can’t you stick to that?

Because I could be asking for more that should tell me that everything was real.

My unfocused gaze fell on the tall ledge opposite my table. I contemplated on reaching for that colorful Psychology book in the top shelf.

I painstakingly reached out for that certain volume. I realized later that I was still thinking too much of things despite the book in my hands.

Aren’t things tangible enough? Don’t you trust him enough now?

Maybe I wanted more than words. Or maybe I wanted to understand him more, and why he said these things when I couldn’t quite see their meaning.

Or you just so refuse to see.

It was previously thirteen minutes after four when I last looked up to the clock, and I was still lost.

I noisily flipped to the page where bright pictures could be found. But the odd figures on this page weren’t enough to distract me even for a few seconds.

There really is no time to think about such things. Isn’t he leaving tomorrow? Shouldn’t you be concerned of that?

I could feel a deep frown forming on my face.

Of course, I didn’t forget about that. I couldn’t even stop myself from feeling so pathetic again because no matter what I did it still seemed everything I’ve been doing for him while he was here would never be enough to call affection.

The tall library building quivered after that deafening rumbling of the thunder. But despite of it the rain had stopped, though it had left everything doused in less than five minutes.

He was scheduled to leave town again in approximately fifteen hours, and in this span of time I wondered what I should do to relieve myself from the anxiety of parting again.

I must still be the oversensitive me from seven months ago. Crying would probably still be part of the program in our last meeting this afternoon, and saying goodbye would be as hard as the last.

A heavy feeling remained in the pit of my stomach, finding myself cringing again and again.

I felt the afterglow of the late afternoon sun and the cool zephyr on my skin at the same time when I stood outside the main gates of the university just before I saw his car making that turn.

That proverbial sensation of nostalgia engulfed my mood yet again, and that frown on my face turned almost to tears.

He said something about shopping for last-minute provisions in this mall a few miles from the university, and something about having only two hours or less to be with me.

Misery must be written all over my face when I heard of his last statement that I turned the other way and pretended to be riveted with the traffic on the other side of the intersection.

The roads were nevertheless active in weekends.

He was still holding my hand even when the traffic light was already green.

I was determined to forget about the desolation even for these last two hours and concentrate on just being with him and the feel of his incredibly warm hand in mine.

Completely misunderstanding, he suspected me of being nervous again when I refused to speak even after he had parked the car in this farthest corner of the mall’s almost barren parking lot.

“Of course not!” I vehemently disagreed, realizing I have laid a hand on my chest to where my heart was supposed to be.

I couldn’t forget how amused he was of my outburst. I intensely scowled in his way.

He sought for my heartbeat but decided after a few tries that he could not find it.

“That’s just plain ridiculous. Why should I be nervous anyway?”

There went my poor attempt to casualness, and the flashback of scenes from last night.

You got your obsessed self back. Congratulations.

I was so not going to start on that when I was supposed to be drowning in my despair over his impending leave.

But we knew why we were still in this drying parking lot when we could have already abandoned this stuffy and suggesting-of-claustrophobia car of his.

There must be something appealing with his hand that you’re making interesting circles on it right now.

This was yet another effort to momentary distraction.

He patiently watched me make incoherent patterns on his palm for a while, the expression on his face reflecting of interest rather than boredom.

“I like it when you do that,” he finally pressed in the middle of my ministration, making me stop to gaze up to his warm eyes.

“Oh?” I croaked the question, sounding rather skeptical of this confession.

The soft radiance of the sun that seeped to his window made his form look warmer as well.

He had that familiar kind smile on his face when he made a nod.

A boost to your ego there.

His face was close to my own again, and before he could make any move my hand was resting itself on his face.

Maybe it was the nervousness again, or the unnecessary awkwardness despite the events of yesterday, that had me starting on poking his cheek.

“Why are you doing this?” He asked curiously though not stopping me, his dark oriental eyes gleaming in amused gaiety.

I found myself staring at that tiny mole below his lips and fighting the urge to trace it. It had almost been invisible.

“Is it because you’re really nervous, Ken-chan?”

I must’ve hummed my answer, I wasn’t sure anymore, but it had anyway sounded like a denial.

It was his turn to begin tracing my bare forearm, but I was shivering at his touch.

“Don’t torture me with that. I’m ticklish,” I managed to say, voice anyway small again as I was already wincing.

“Really?”

There was disbelief and amusement lacing his deep voice.

He went on making an invisible outline on my skin despite the gooseflesh and my low hiss.

I should glare at him for forgetting that one bit of information but before I could he had already stirred closer to my face.

“And how does this make you feel?”

His steady breath fanned my ear for a moment before that teasing brush of what could be his tongue on my sensitive earlobe educed a violent tremor in me.

Whoah. Where did the playful touch go now?

I couldn’t tell if it pleased me immensely or terrified me senseless. After a second, I settled for confusion as I brought my hand to my ears and threw him an accusing look.

“That was weird. Really!”

Me and my limited terminology. I cursed myself for this embarrassing response.

He laughed at my childish reaction again.

Your self esteem count must be below negative one-hundred now.

“Oh?” He said, grinning mischievously and leaning closer.

“You’re mean,” I told him, glaring deeply to no avail.

He suddenly turned predatory as his face grew closer again.

“Hmm?”

Closer.

“Yes, you’re mean.” My face grew warmer.

And closer.

I got to poke his face before he removed my hand and closed that already minute gap between us.

Is he bent on teasing you today, or what?

He was doing occasional brushes on the mouth, lingering kisses that were so slight they were almost never there.

A delicious shiver ran up my spine.

I successfully resisted the impulse to moan.

You’re too immature to even make a sound.

Oh, this traitorous mind of mine, when would you ever cease mocking me?

It took a while before he decided to stop teasing and resolve to a full kiss.

I was lost again and again in this sensation that must have burned my soul immensely.

“Wonderfully Weird” is an understatement. Make that “Wonderfully Wow”. Damn, you’re hooked to this, seriously.

“You’re obsessed,” he sighed the words, momentarily breaking the kiss and in turn making me breathe again.

I leaned my forehead close to his mouth, staring down as I found the grace to blush again.

“You are, too,” I bravely countered in a whisper.

If I concentrated enough, I could feel my hammering heartbeat in my ears.

I resolutely dropped my hand to my side so that I wouldn’t be tempted to reach for his heaving chest to feel if his heart was beating as crazily as mine.

Time slowed down when I breathed in his scent for the thousandth occasion.

He encouraged me to meet his lips for the second time as he cleverly guided my face to his.

All thought lost now? You will burn yourself in these flames.

The teasing went on and on as he was determined to make me beg for more.

“No,” I unpredictably murmured against his lips.

I had meant to say stop it but only got as far as a word of negation.

“No?” He sounded amusedly curious, and there was a smile in his low voice.

He planted another kiss on one side of my mouth when I closed my eyes again.

“No.”

There went that one word again—

“No?”

—and another kiss.

“No...”

Respiring was suddenly a chore now that I couldn’t even make out a lucid thought, or statement.

“Really?”

He made an abrupt pause just in time when I blinked and stared up to his curious oriental eyes that would undoubtedly crinkle in a moment or two.

Yes!

“...No.”

Argh. That was a stupid answer.

Oh, where did my logic go when I needed it the most?

“You’re funny, you know.”

I pouted, mortified terrifically that my whole face was flaming again.

Stupid, you mean.

He laughed out his amusement before he unexpectedly pulled me closer to him and kissed me again until I felt dizzy and breathless.

It hadn’t been rough but it was relatively close to demanding.

Oh, everything a kiss is supposed to be in your opinion then?

Didn’t everything start in a platonic ground? Where did that go? What happened?

Screw your pointless questions. Tell him how much you love him in this kiss! You have less than two hours to be with him.

I didn’t know how else to show him. But euphoria and anxious excitement were fueling my blood and were controlling my every movement by then. It must have been anyway awkward but I had gone on with it as hormones had dictated, and he hadn’t complained since everything had started.

I hadn’t noticed where his clever hands were groping until I felt them feeling my waist and rising dangerously close to my chest.

That is waaaaay beyond platonic now. Uh-huh.

I small sound escaped my throat as warning signals blared noisily in my mind.

“Don’t,” I hissed.

He seemed genuinely confused when he asked why.

But it didn’t necessarily stop his hands from persistently rising.

How thick-headed can he get? Just because you’re singing I-love-you’s in the midst of eager kisses doesn’t give him the consent to do this!

I was confused of my feelings all over again.

“Just...don’t,” I said again as I turned my head away and bit my lower lip, suddenly feeling embarrassed to accept something this new.

No, I didn’t want it at all, not here, not now.

I was about to cover myself with my arms when he distracted me with a fierce kiss that melted my rationality completely.

He insisted with his ministrations, and in my fear I hadn’t been able to move for awhile.

“Just try to see if you like it,” he said in a thick voice when he managed to speak again.

Would you hold on to it?

Biting my lower lip until it almost bruised, I cringed and shivered at the feel of his hands.

He urged me to rise in another kiss again, his tongue darting shrewdly in the warm cavern of my mouth and making wild patterns that utterly seized my concentration.

I surrendered ultimately, losing control of my precious sanity for the umpteenth time.

This is madness! Just yesterday morning you were platonic friends.

“How do you find it now?” He suddenly asked in a quiet undertone.

My mind seemed to be filled of a lot of haze that I wasn’t able to answer right away.

Stimulating.

“Really?”

You have just successfully said your thoughts aloud.

But this wasn’t right at all. Not here, not now—

“Yes,” I murmured densely anyway, trying to swallow that lump that uncomfortably formed in my throat.

He wasn’t able to react at once when I imprisoned his lower lip between my lips, biting tentatively before punishing him further by capturing his tongue with my teeth.

A groan escaped from him, a protest to my feral action.

It must have been enough distraction that he dropped his hands and kissed me back without fumbling.

I lost my concentration and my mind yet again amidst compulsive kisses and slight movements.

The sun veiled itself in the ginger-toned clouds that were beginning to form in the skies again, its warmth lingering in the expanse.

I could almost feel tears forming in the corners of my eyes when we broke off the kiss, remembering that this dream was soon ending and fast vanishing in the blur that I was seeing before me. But this unusual dream was something that I would surely never forget, and wouldn’t want to forget.

His face was even when he spoke again of the things he needed to do, congenially saying that he had no choice but to cancel everything that he planned to do after this.

I wanted to think that he was saying this because he wanted to be with me. But that small voice in my mind told me that I was just imagining it. He had spent too much time with me already.

He hadn’t noticed the distant look in my eyes when I looked his way again with the bright and blinding fluorescents of the mall that consumed everything, including myself.

I hadn’t allowed him to see the emptiness anyway as I easily faked a smile and provided a nonchalant answer to his latest question. There certainly would be things like my thoughts that he would never know.

I wanted to interrupt him in his careful absorption and loud deliberations of what to purchase and just tell him again that I didn’t want him to go back to that place. But I found myself tensely tailing him, watching him and still giving him responses to his animated questions almost halfheartedly. I most probably have already lost myself in the sea of people if he hadn’t called my name.

“Ken-chan, over here!”

What is the matter with you?

I began skipping behind him to distract myself from these thoughts, focusing on the pasty marble underneath my feet.

Was I ready to let him go again?

I still didn’t know the answer to this even when I realized he was now driving us uptown. The scenes easily transformed to one of remoteness.

All I could hear was his serene voice as he spoke about his last meeting with Jen. I noted how the words fell from his mouth, careful and careless at the same time.

He sounded like he was suddenly entranced in his own narration as he fixed his gaze ahead on the rather deserted highway that twisted almost endlessly in the darkness.

I wondered if he remembered I was sitting beside him.

Or it’s just you again, making it all seem unreal. You are the only one here whose thoughts are detached.

Maybe it was really me again.

Right then it was all I ever wanted to concentrate on, his low and soothing voice that echoed in my mind.

He said he wanted me to know that they were friends again.

I found myself nodding absentmindedly at this.

And did he just say that there is no chance for them to get back again?

I looked out the window to realize that there weren’t any stars that could mock me of these thoughts. There wasn’t even a moon in sight.

Yes, he just did.

And he just searched my hand that had fallen limp on my side before he held it.

How can you be so insecure at this moment? How can you still be when he is holding your hand like this?

I blinked the tears that threatened to fall and chose to look away, to the parking lot around the curb.

How many minutes did we have left? Less than sixty minutes?

What are you going to say? What are you going to do?

I still didn’t know.

We were laughing to ourselves when we stepped in the mall and when we found out how caked with mud our shoes were.

Thankfully, we stuck with a relaxed conversation after that as we headed straight to the groceries.

With the crowd of busy shoppers ahead my mind was once again stirred to things that I shouldn’t be thinking right now.

What are you to him? Someone just close enough to share a kiss with?

I had no right to even think of that right now. Not when everything was alright, not when he would be leaving. I was not going to ask more of this because I knew that he didn’t need it right now.

So still just friends?

He was a friend that I had chosen and decided to love.

“It could’ve been Deana here with you tonight. But, no, it’s me you’re with right now. Do you even know why we’re friends?” I blurted the question too suddenly that I hadn’t realized I was even thinking it.

He looked up from the shopping cart to glance at his side where I had stood near.

“Of all the people to be close to each other, have you ever asked yourself why it’s you and me?”

I stared at the passing old couple instead of looking up to his face and expecting for an answer. Fortunately, I hadn’t said my previous thoughts aloud again.

“Hmmm...I’ve asked myself that once or twice maybe,” he said.

“Really?”

The second row of foodstuff in front of us stretched far in my perspective. The items were so neatly piled and organized that I fought the urge to disarrange them just so I could do something.

“Yeah,” he asserted, studying an article in his hands with careful consequence.

It took him a long while to answer me as he busied himself with his task.

“I think we’re simply together because we can let go just as easily.”

It was an unconscious act that I had stopped short on my tracks, watching him make that turn to the next row.

But I didn’t know why I wasn’t even surprised with his answer. It was as if I knew all along what he would say. This was probably something that I believed in myself anyway. We could easily let go if the circumstance asked for us to let go.

But you are not going to let go, are you? You are happy enough to just watch him.

I was skipping once more to shake off these thoughts away from my head.

Again, I decided that I wasn’t going to think of those things while he was smiling beguilingly in my direction, his face bright and peaceful in intense illumination of the mall.

I walked to where he was currently standing a couple of minutes later.

He seemed like he didn’t mind waiting in this long line despite the fact that he was rather in a hurry.

There was that strange feeling again. Right at that moment I was torn between feeling utterly miserable and contented with this arrangement and this finite moment with him.

“Are you alright?”

I blinked too fast that my lids almost fluttered. He didn’t even know what he was asking me.

No.

“Yeah. Sure,” I replied easily, clinging on to his other paper bag in my hands.

Maybe tomorrow.

I effortlessly grinned again before I averted my stare the other way.

There was something in those oriental eyes of his that could tell that I was lying.

My gaze had suddenly blurred despite my glasses.

It wasn’t long before we were back in the muddy parking lot, skipping again to drier spots until we reached his car, and kissing each other senseless in the dark.

I wasn’t able to help myself this time that I held his face as if it were some lifeline, memorizing how his lips touched mine and how his warm breath fanned my face for a moment.

That sharp exhale reached my ears and I started to shudder to myself. I had merely forgotten everything that had transpired in the mall a while ago, and I didn’t want to remember anything at all.

The searing kiss descended to one of languid gentleness.

I hadn’t made any protest when he slid his hand to my waist and drew me nearer to him. It made me tremble slightly but the action was so comforting that I had simply melted in his hold.

I was already terribly missing him.

I love you, I wanted to say, please don’t let go. Though I only got as far as an embrace and a quiet sob in this darkness that swallowed everything including his form and mine.

How I wanted to hear him say those same words to me and to believe him this time. However, he could only enclose his arms around me, holding me for a little longer, understanding that there wasn’t enough time left for us now.

His scent was already etched in my mind, and I insisted in drowning myself in it until it’s the only thing that’s left in my memory.

No regrets, no regrets...

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

I never wanted to move from his hold but I found myself saying the first words to break this dream off.

“You need to be home now,” I mumbled to him, watching the luminous digits of that clock turn past 8PM.

He said a soft reply as he turned the engine on.

I turned my stare to the dark skies outside the window.

There was still no moon in sight, and there was nothing that could comfort me of this misery and goodbye.

I hadn’t started crying but I hadn’t made any significant reaction as well.

“Why are you suddenly so quiet, Ken-chan?”

I pretended to appear surprised of his question as I looked to his face. I realized I couldn’t quite see his gentle eyes in this shadow.

“Am I?”

It was all I could say to him as my words stuck in my mind.

I love you. But I’m not going to ask you to stay for me. Because that is not what you need right now.

I fell silent again only this time I was staring ahead, watching the mahoganies that trailed along the empty freeway. They had grown seven months older.

“Hey, say something.” His voice was softer this time as he said the words.

“What do you want me to say?” I didn’t mean to answer that way but it was the only words that prevented my tears from completely overflowing at that moment.

“Anything...just anything.”

I smiled despite these confused emotions.

I will be alright...tomorrow.

But he never heard me say it out loud.

[october 1, 2005]

Between the trees that waltz in the gentle breeze.

2007-07-07T02:14:00.004+08:00

Certainly there was something unspeakably frightening about sitting here with him, in the passenger seat when the car was not even moving and the late afternoon sun was misplaced in the dark clouds that had quietly materialized from the horizon.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Today had been a normal day, and I hadn’t been particularly concerned of what would happen until now.

Time, it seemed, stretched unbearably between us just like this stiff silence.

Funny that I seriously wished to be here again, in this same spot, some seven months ago. And now, while I was sitting right across him I thought I couldn’t even stop fidgeting anxiously while wishing for the ground to swallow me whole already.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

So I was overreacting, but then again I couldn’t help but feel this way.

The university uniform I was wearing was becoming more and more uncomfortable much to my chagrin, and the fact that all the windows of this car were still rolled up only added to the tension that was slowly and excruciatingly building.

I made a useless attempt to stop myself from moving too much.

“Tell me why I must succumb to this plan of yours again,” I said for probably the umpteenth time after that long pause, smiling awkwardly anyway as I tried to look really casual about it.

There was almost a smirk on his face that I terribly wanted to wipe off.

If only I could.

“Because you promised that you would,” he answered, stressing certain words as his smirk grew.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

I scowled again but this time I’ve lost count of how many glares I was sending his way that didn’t even have a slight effect on him.

The air was suddenly too warm in his car, strangling and demanding.

“And if I don’t hold that promise now? I don’t even know what my punishment is!”

His playful expression easily transformed to one of seriousness. I recognized it as one of a Cheshire cat’s expression.

“Because you love me.”

Pftt...and now he pulls that line on you. You can’t seriously buy this one.

I hissed inwardly as I realized that the words he just said were anyway true.

How novel.

Oh, this traitorous mind of mine, when would you cease mocking me?

What he said must really be valid as I was already here in front of him, my knuckles precisely drawn closer to his lips.

I instinctively moved a little too further away. The door on my side almost touched my back at that. Nervousness was apparent in my every movement.

Things never really changed after all these months. I figured this when I still refused to be punished already.

But, of course, then was much different from now. Wasn’t I supposed to be braver now than I was some few months ago?

Ah, the punishment...do you even know what it is?

I watched how his smile returned to his face, those unreadable oriental eyes gazing on my confused ones.

“Just close your eyes, sit still and don’t move...”

What sort of things one could do to me that involve all these?

Oh, there are lots, of course. One of them should involve a kiss. Wasn’t that the original deal from last year? Seven kisses for saying such foul words?

Eight, and they weren’t even foul.

And you remember too well.

“Are you afraid of what I will do?”

A strange glint passed his eyes for a split second.

“Is that even a question?”

I could swear my voice sounded incredibly small at this.

The only answer I received was a grin that I couldn’t even read.

He turned to the clock in his car again and announced that I owed him ten of that “punishment” already, and that I really shouldn’t be wasting so much time.

Just so I would claim the sentence sooner he had thought of this ridiculous scheme of incrementing it if I allowed time to carelessly pass by. He knew quite well I would be stalling.

He is too clever for you. You know all along there is no point in doing this.

Those oriental eyes effortlessly shifted in the last ten seconds.

Maybe, just maybe something much acceptable would come out of this delay.

Whatever.

There went my precious self-esteem, tucked away by my own condescending mind.

“Come on, Ken-chan, just close those eyes already,” he pressed on rather too enthusiastically for my taste, mischief dripping in his voice, making me doubt even more if I could ever come out of this whole thing alive.

If it should be something that he would enjoy, it would mean the end of me.

My sanity should be spared of this mental torture, but he was being stubborn again, refusing to give away the name of this punishment.

The clouds outside occupied the skies completely, dimming the heavens absolutely.

“It’s a surprise. And anyway it won’t hurt you,” he went on, reading my mind. “Or I think it won’t hurt you. And, no, it won’t be the end of you.”

I never liked surprises that much.

Heaving another sigh, I envied Deana, Kevin and Jared who were off somewhere in the mall because they’ve been easily bribed by him.

My eyes trailed on the edifice that stood beside the parking lot. The building looked truly appealing with its furious, multicolored lights in its exterior.

I wondered for a moment if those guys had any idea about what was happening here.

Kevin, most likely. Jared? Maybe. But Deana? ‘Seriously doubt it.

He really must’ve seriously planned everything ahead of time. Everything and everybody were his allies.

We’ve been in this crammed, crude parking lot for the last forty-five minutes, and my penalty was incremented by one.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

When did breathing become such an agonizing task?

I tried to open the door but the lock prevented me my exit.

There was that smirk on his face again.

Why was I here again?

Somehow the answer to that was lost to me again, and I almost asked him that again, too.

How inviting the gentle wind that swayed the branches of the young tree outside seemed from where I was sitting, the leaves dancing in the song of the breeze.

“Come closer to me, Ken-chan. You’re too far away.”

Helpless and defeated, I allowed him to draw me nearer to him.

Why so confused? Haven’t you figured it out that you’re here because you want to be with him?

“I missed you.”

His voice was deeper when he uttered those words.

It caught me off guard as it was almost a random statement from him.

“I really missed you.”

And those obsidian eyes appeared dazedly sincere as I stared at them, expression torn between nostalgia and emptiness.

His embrace was something that I could drown in for forever, that familiar scent of him filling my mind. But when he let go after a few seconds, I was suddenly lost again.

“I missed you, too, you know,” I managed to say, distracted with the fading smile on his lips.

You can’t already be lonely when he hasn’t even left yet.

My eyes fell on our connected hands just as the first sign of dusk appeared in the horizon and as shadows began to form.

Familiar emotions of longing and distress resurfaced as I recalled the memory of seven months ago. It had suddenly felt like it had only been yesterday.

“We should end this quick, Ken-chan. It’s getting late,” he said, breaking my concentration with his teasing tone again.

I almost groaned in frustration once more.

“Just put your hand over your eyes and face me. It’s not that hard, really!”

Easy for him to say.

“Ken-chan, please...”

You know you can’t refuse him.

I narrowed my eyes at him, skeptical for the last time.

Another overpowered sigh escaped my lips.

“I don’t know why I’m doing this, but to get this over with...”

I really must’ve said that more than once that the words fell out easily from my mouth.

It was just the best time for anyone to rescue me from this ordeal.

The car seat I’ve been sitting on was suddenly too stiff as if it was hardwood beneath me instead of this pristine and expensive upholstery. The tension that hung inside the car reached its peak that it had become unbearable.

This is it. The moment has come!

Oh, would I ever come out of this alive?

You’re overreacting, you know. His face is only getting closer to your face, and you can even see that in the gap of your hand.

This shouldn’t be like this!

And there went the very painful moment of anticipation. That light half-kiss came and stole my voice for a good five seconds of my life.

Just then I realized I had been holding my breath all this time.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

All sound fell mute, and I couldn’t hear anything but the deafening pounding of blood in my ears along with the strange reverberation of a clock.

I remembered forming words that didn’t have any meaning. But questions were clear as they flooded my mind.

What did just happen?

My eyes must’ve widened significantly, too.

Shocked?

Shocked, and confused. He didn’t have to kiss me. It was unnecessary!

My hands were shaking when I brought them on my burning ears. It was hard to believe that something like it happened here, today, with the supposedly playful deal from last year.

With a careful thumb he brushed that side of my lips where his kiss touched. That unreadable look on his clear face bewildered me all the more.

“I—I really think we sh-should find Kevin and the others now,” I stammered as I hurriedly turned away and managed to unlock the door despite my shaking hands.

I couldn’t look up to his face this time.

The crisp uniform seemed to choke me finally along with this feeling of utter confusion and betrayal.

This really shouldn’t have happened at all.

The calm breeze outside that I had wanted to feel against my warm skin felt too cruelly cold after all.

“What have you been doing last night that really exhausted you?”

Deana didn’t even care to look up from her monitor when she asked me this.

Those droopy eyes of hers were carefully and persistently trained on the moving figures of the sentinels and scourge of this game that she was involved in. Looking up to me even for two seconds would mean death to her—at least in the context of this game.

“Our senior paper,” I said rather flatly, lying to my teeth.

I couldn’t even turn to her side as I mumbled the words. Maybe because I was already curiously blushing without reason.

“Oh?” Her tone was unbelieving anyway as she knew I was too much of a procrastinator to do such thing. Fortunately, she hadn’t noticed my clear restlessness.

In all honesty I was up until past 2 o’clock in the morning—

Because you couldn’t sleep, and you couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened. Riiiiight?

—because of that conversation with him.

I shifted on my seat for the fifth time, and still found my position uncomfortable.

Today was suddenly filled with too many unusual things.

Like it was unusual to have an endless string of worries that went my way despite my trusty gym class uniform. But I was actually only worried of one thing, and that would be—

How this glorious Friday would turn out. Geez, you’re overreacting again.

“What a storm! I didn’t expect this,” I heard Shirley announce to no one in particular when she unceremoniously plopped on the empty seat beside me and while I just resolved to stand up.

“Hey, you’re leaving?”

“Errr...yeah. I’ve had too much radiation today, and walking under that storm you’re talking about sounds like the grandest idea,” I monotonously replied despite the words of reaction, anyway implying gravely of suicide while lethargically slinging my satchel on my shoulder.

“Seriously?” Despite her dubious eyes, she was broadly grinning, reminding me of a certain face that I was all too used of exploiting.

I turned to where Deana was sitting and decided that she was too busy with her game to be bothered.

“Yeah.” There came another dull answer and a sloppy shrug. I pushed the door open and made my way out without so much of a last glance behind me.

Everybody was just too busy to be concerned if I had left the room already.

I somehow knew today was going to be a long day, and I couldn’t even remember what I had been doing in the last eight hours.

You’ve been brooding.

No, I wasn’t even brooding. I was almost distracted, staring off to space as if I was seeing something there.

It had been seventeen minutes past four in the afternoon when I last looked up to the clock.

And you’re meeting him in ten minutes. Isn’t that happy?

I promised last night after that long talk that I would be open-minded about things. I was touched of how considerate he was with my bizarre reaction. But he almost thought of not seeing me today because of it. What he had done was rather precarious, and our friendship could’ve fallen apart if I had been stubbornly narrow-minded until the end.

This time he’s going to go for the real thing. How are you going to react now?

Since I was too familiar of the walk to my destination, I let my mind wander off again.

I wondered if it was indeed alright for friends to kiss friends that way. Showing affection was anyway something relative. But did it have to be this way, the display of it this—

Provocative? Challenging would be a good word for it, don’t you think?

The rain poured on endlessly, slightly saturating my hair and clothes and utterly drenching the towering trees and buildings nearby. The skies were darker this time, gloomy now that I was feeling this way, confused and lost still.

Didn’t you say you understood why he is doing this?

Of course. Of course, I understood. I wouldn’t be here, standing under this large umbrella outside these gates where the rain stubbornly kept on pouring if I didn’t understand, right?

Sometimes I would think if I knew what I was doing, or why I was doing this.

You will do anything for him. And you’re never like this to anyone. Perhaps, because you love him.

Was this love really? Or it’s just fleeting obsession mistaken as love?

I lightly tapped my sneakers on the wet pavement, waiting patiently for his car to appear on the other side of the road as I contemplated a little more.

You know how these things are different.

Did I really?

The rain had formed murky puddles on the uneven street. I watched how these several shallow pools anyway made people skip when they came across them.

You doubt about yourself now? Shouldn’t you be worried of other things? Come on. You know this is love ever since he’s moved away. Probably way before that, too.

I figured after arguing with my mind that perhaps it was time that I showed him.

It had been about time the moment he was back. You have realized too late.

With an open hand I caught heavy rain drops as if I was fascinated by them. They had appeared to resemble rather plump drops of tears.

If only you could open your mind like this, things would’ve been alright.

Suddenly, a strong burst of wind flailed the frail fabric of the umbrella above me, but its force hadn’t been enough to completely topple off the foundation of it.

Oddly enough, the tempest started to pacify.

I would like to imagine that the skies were weeping with me because he would be leaving again tomorrow, but I decided that I was alone with this feeling when the rain was about to cease and his car stopped at the sight of me.

I wondered if it was just me thinking too much, or things were really just starting to get complicated.

He made a small sound that could be mistaken as purring.

“You’ve made Kevin and Jared go away again. They’ll surely drain your money just by playing all the games in the arcade. And they wouldn’t even think twice about it.”

He made another sound but this time it sounded like an amused snort.

Surely he recognized this talk as something to distract us again. I was so convinced that I was almost close to making myself forget that I was here again, anxious and unsure of what exactly to expect.

I wondered if I would always be confused just by being near him.

“You know that I really don’t care,” he replied almost sleepily as he carefully set his head on my shoulder even with the awkward position he was in.

He’ll surely get a sore back for all the things you’re making him do.

I was aware of how dangerously close our faces were but I resolved not to think about it too much for now. We were too contented of this peace even for a moment, and staying this close left a pool of warmth in me.

“You understand why I’m doing this, Ken-chan?”

It really didn’t seem a question when he drawled out the words, and I let his speech drill into my head for a good few seconds.

Why, certainly. Or you wouldn’t be too nervous to be alone with him, mind lost somewhere out there when it should be here, in this parking lot, in this car, in this seat, in this body.

Trust my mind to be the most sarcastic thing in the whole wide world.

I figured that the storm was completely gone even though the dark clouds that roamed the skies suggested of heavy precipitation. But something was brewing in me anyway, and I wasn’t sure what was causing it.

He was different, this I knew for he never cared too much of what people think. But sometimes I would think he was too different that I couldn’t catch up, and, perhaps despite of it all, couldn’t understand.

I probably missed a thing or two here, I wasn’t sure.

“I never thought you’d understand so quickly.”

I almost disagreed. I never really understood until now, until I was reminded that he was somewhat unconventional. And this was his way of showing affection.

You’ve just been too unfeeling for too long, you know.

In a slight movement, he arranged himself to face me, reaching out for my inactive hand on my left and lacing his fingers with my own.

“I love you...and yet I don’t know why I do,” he almost murmured, expression transforming slightly to something unreadable.

That laugh was roughly bitter in my ears when I released it.

Love was a strange word. And the first time he said that he loved me sounded anyway surreal. How strange that I wasn’t at all surprised. But I figured it must have been that way because I couldn’t believe him. I didn’t want him to say these things just so he could match what I was saying.

“Tell me...do you know why you love me?”

Those piercing oriental eyes seized my own, and I was held captive in them.

“No,” I said in a humorless, tired voice.

It was an honest answer, and I hated myself for not having the answer to his question. Because I was sure I knew it but just—

Forgot? Is that even possible?

I knew I loved him but I just didn’t know why. Reason was lost to me. And lately, I’ve lost many things.

The conversation was nearly laid-back in spite of the subject. He was the only one I knew who could speak calmly about things like this.

But then again you aren’t close to many people.

I couldn’t help but sigh again.

Dusk finally broke and everything fell dark. Somehow I had the feeling that I had been in a déjà vu but I couldn’t quite remember the memory of this whole situation.

There was no moon tonight.

“I’m fine with us not knowing for now,” he pressed on, and I couldn’t agree more though something in me was telling me I would’ve wanted to know.

I nodded almost to myself, and my shadow nodded along with me.

“Come closer to me, Ken-chan.”

There was that smooth drawl of his speech again. It had been peculiarly hypnotic.

I let him draw me nearer to his body until he could hold me close.

His heady scent intoxicated me for a moment but I was growing nervous again as I realized what was impending.

He must’ve felt how fast my heart was beating, or how unusually warm I was suddenly.

It was inevitable now. Escaping from it was an implausible thought.

Are you finally going to give in? Will you say now: screw consequences if there will be any? There really is no turning back.

I couldn’t stop shuddering even when his mouth was only lazily tracing one or two sides of my mouth. I almost panicked when he finally pressed his lips on my own, making me inaudibly gasp, my breath caught up in my throat.

Don’t you trust him?

I did. I probably just didn’t trust myself.

It wasn’t nearly as good as I had imagined it would be. Because it was actually startlingly wonderful, despite my obvious trembling.

I was infinitely vulnerable in his hands, and I could shatter in a million pieces if he roughly insisted.

With eyes closed, I finally let myself drown in the heat of the moment, leaning closer. I knew I was just too warm to be just blushing on the face. I must’ve flushed too much anyway, and I imagined how much blood had rushed to my head then.

I was surely lost. There was nothing else but him and me.

I fought the urge to make a sound when his teasing tongue languidly stroke the outline of my lips before it pried them open.

I wasn’t sure what exactly was happening but instincts took over and I was kissing him back, my mind already reeling severely.

It must’ve been amazing that I lost coherent logic, if I had any, and I couldn’t even open my eyes when the kiss ended.

If I sighed inwardly or openly I couldn’t tell now.

Wow. Did that really happen? The heat in this car hasn’t left at all.

There were many things that crossed my mind. One of them was the undeniable fear of change that would come out of this. Perhaps there were many things that I would still fail to understand. But after a moment my concern was lost along with the other thoughts.

I must be mad for grinning this way despite the horrible blush on my ears. I almost hit him on his arm when he laughed about how childishly I reacted right after all this.

“I’m sorry. I’m a lousy kisser,” I managed to say as casualness returned, thankful that it was almost completely dark now and he couldn’t see how red my face was. I was suddenly sorely embarrassed of my inability to kiss.

“You’re alright.”

Alright isn’t enough, you know. Alright could be a subtle way of saying “you're actually really lousy".

I refused to sulk at my mind. There were a lot of things that it could say to my already bruised ego.

Those goading lips must’ve curved upward even if I couldn’t quite see them.

He deftly reached out and tenderly caressed one side of my warm face before he traced my lips again with a gentle finger.

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss these,” he said, voice falling dangerously to an octave lower. He almost sounded as if he was caught in a dream.

I couldn’t trust my voice to say anything logical as I remained mute.

“And I’ve been right about them now,” he went on, still strangely pensive.

Lookie here. He had wondered about such things. Aren’t you flattered?

Surprised was the most appropriate word to call it. I could only laugh timidly as I couldn’t quite tell where to place my opinion of it.

“I might not see you tomorrow,” he suddenly informed me. The tone of his voice changed to one of melancholy but his face in the reflected light of a nearby car looked rather impassive.

I inwardly winced at his words.

“I know. You’re leaving.” My voice dropped bleakly along with my spirits.

He carefully shook his head before he got hold of a lock of my longer hair.

“I actually canceled the flight for tomorrow,” he disagreed quietly, distractedly toying with that loose strand in his fingers. “Even so, I could be very busy to see you.”

I understood of things like this. I always did.

“It’s alright,” I said anyway, taking a futile effort at cheerfulness.

Is it really? You sound rather pained and broken.

I was immensely relieved for the most part of it, and I was smiling anyway. Was the smile for my sake or his, I couldn’t tell.

“Ken-chan...”

“But I would want to see you...even for the last time.”

Wishing had always been free. And I wouldn’t intend to hesitate now.

He purposely missed kissing me full on the lips again.

“You probably would still see me,” he murmured as if he was granting that wish.

I reflectively sighed again.

How much time have you got left? Will you start to panic again? What will you do this time? Can you still afford to be confused about a lot of things?

Would I still be hurt?

“I love you.”

Right at that moment I wished I could see those soft obsidian oriental eyes of his even in the dark. The temporary light from a while ago had vanished just when I needed it.

I had daringly lifted my hand to feel his warm face.

“I love you,” I told him as if he hadn’t said it first, almost firmly, letting him know I was serious about it and not just because of the kiss or this moment.

There was no way to tell if he felt the weight of the words, but I was anyway contented of my own declaration—even if I couldn’t easily believe his own.

In the shadows, a sad smile graced my face.

“Kiss me,” he whispered softly in my ear, eliciting a shiver from me.

The newfound boldness was overwhelming that my head was spinning again, coherence lost in this welcomed darkness and in this warm night.

And the careful kiss fell on his lips.

[september 29 - september 30, 2005]