Showing posts with label John and Steve. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John and Steve. Show all posts

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Four Days

I gave Manong tricycle driver 40 pesos for my fare. That was a very quiet, and chaotic ride at the same time. He dropped me at Valderoza Street near the CAP building.

I walked a few meters towards where we were to meet. One leg was hesitant, the other more hesitant. One part of me was telling, more like ordering me, to just go back home. This other part, this annoying other part, was telling to see this one through. But I already decided to see this one through the moment I alighted from the tricycle. All there was left to do was to force those legs to go take those steps.

I suddenly felt the world was turning around me. I felt pressure going up through my head and I started seeing black spots. I took a pause, took a deep breath. My legs were shaking.

Surprisingly, I found myself peering, quite nervously, through the glass doors of the restaurant. I was relieved. I saw no familiar faces.

There was a couple, to my right, browsing the menu and a rather stocky crew waiting for their orders. The woman was probably in her early 30s, the guy, I was not so sure of. His back was facing me. She was wearing a white collared top, sleeveless with raffles outlined around the pearl button line from her neck to her chest.

"I'm here. Turn to your left," read the message from him.

It was loudest pound I've ever felt in my entire life. Pictures of him whispering in my ear, his left hand holding mine, leading it gently to the headboard kept flashing. Before I could hear what he was trying to say, I was back to my self, turned left and walked to him.

There was a glass of iced tea. A teapot and the smell of Twining's four red fruits. He stood up, walked to the chair opposite his and pulled it out for me. There was something in his smile. It was heavy, almost sad. "Hi, he--llo," he stuttered. I sat and he went back to his seat.

Before he could say anything, "Steve, this has got to stop. Your wedding is in four days. I can't have this right now, not anymore."

"Exactly, my wedding is in four days and I can't stop thinking that I am going to make this big mistake."

"You've dreamed for that day to come. She loves you and you adore her. And this is going to be the envy of the stars, remember?"

"After what happened last night, I knew seeing this through is going to be the biggest mistake that I'll ever do, and I can't make that mistake. I won't. I won't make us miserable for the ..."

"What happened last night, that was the mistake Steve. What happened ..." I froze, I just froze, literally.

"I will never hurt you." He whispered. His left hand was still holding mine. Both rested on the headboard.

I was myself again.

He was looking intently at me, as if he saw what just flashed before me. It was as though he heard himself whisper those words.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Bye Steven

"Bye John," he said.
"Bye Steven," was all I could reply.

To him, it did not mean anything. That is what he always says when he leaves.
To me though, it was as if it was the end of the world. It was as if I'd never see him again. It was as if I'd never be able to talk with him. It was as if I never can reach out to him, again.

We were at a local bakeshop (that one that makes the best chocolate cakes in the city, the one near the boondocks). We were having cake and tea. And it was time for him to go, and time for me to go back to work.

It felt like it was our last tea together. I know it was our last tea together. And when he said "Bye," I knew very well that it was time to go too.

Tonight, you see, he is going to ask Margaux's parents for her hands (we call it pamamanhikan). They've been together for 3 years now, Margaux and Steven. And it was time, it was their time.

It was so innocent, his goodbye. Before that, he asked me to be his best man. And I didn't say no, I can't say no. I said I would be happy to. I said their story is going to be the envy of the stars. Then there was silence, awkward silence. He looked at me and I at him. He stood up, gave me a pat, looked at me one last time, smiled and said "Bye John."

The moment he said that, I knew it was no longer one of those I-felt-as-ifs. I really felt it. Tasted it. And it tasted like fresh blood and smelt of rust and ash.

************************
How could I see him, look at him? How could I talk to him, reach out to him? How could I care for him and love him when he is already half of this wonderful thing I had dreamed of us to be.

How could I, when I know the other half isn't me and will never be.