I want to put you and your fond memories in a box, tuck them safely away, like a treasure. But I also want it to be someplace where nobody, not even me, can see. That way I may forget, eventually.
---
It started after lunch. As I spat white foam in the sink, the story spilled - about how they noticed that you seemed unattached lately. You're not even telling her where you are, or what you're doing, when it's late at night and she might have been worried sick over you. "I must really make it up to her," you were quoted to say, and that you'd do anything to make the relationship work.
It's a good thing, really. I should be glad. Actually,
I am, because I've noticed too, and I've wondered. I couldn't bear it if there's anything wrong between the two of you. That'll hurt you, and that in turn hurts me.
It just never occured to me that a good thing - the
right thing, for that matter - would break my heart, crush it beyond recognition.
And even if it did, what does it matter? I was never a part of the story; I was just somebody on the outside, looking in.
---
"You will only hurt yourself, and we don't want that." my
little sister said, from what seemed so long ago. I agreed, half-heartedly, though my mind knew well enough what she meant.
It's funny how I expected pain to come sooner or later, and yet when it hit me, everything still seemed so sudden. I realized my mistake: I kept ignoring reality even as it crept nearer and nearer. When it's finally in front of me, there's nothing left to do but stare open-mouthed, barenaked, as pain claimed my soul.
---
From that hour, a knot rested heavily at the pit of my stomach. I don't know if it's the coffee I gulped continuously all afternoon, or just plain dread of having to face you - because then, I would have to act like bits of my heart aren't strewn all over the floor. I would have to steel myself as I behold the heart-stopping smile, the kindly eyes.
What are friends for?
---
The second it struck five-thirty, I was out the door. I deliberately avoided your eyes; I didn't want to be obliged to say goodbye. I just wanted to run away, as fast as I could.
I had dinner with a
friend. I bought books. I window shopped. I remember saying to my friend - actually, more to myself - I wonder what she looks like? "It shouldn't matter," was the reply. "You'll never know who she is in this crowd, unless you see them together."
"Yes," I said. "You have a point."
---
Two jeepneys were competing for passengers, the drivers outyelling each other. I don't understand why since they're headed in different destinations. I waited, losing myself in the men's shouts and whistles.
I was slouching, but suddenly I was sitting up straight. "Oh, my G...!"
You were crossing the street. You were holding her hand.
I thanked heaven for darkness because I felt tears.
Happy Christmas to all!