I recollect the first time my eyes laid on her. Every break, I used to dine alone in a bourgeois café established unpopularly along the university belt. It was less nestled by boisterous people and so a limpid place to purge time. Daily, I indulge my palate with Curry and cold Java whilst the remaining time is mine to grow callous in my seat. One fine day, as I was about to finish my routine, the meek chimes from the door belled. My eyes, as usual, is abnormally synchronous to who goes in and out of the café. I noticed this fagged looking girl, clumsy in every detail as she dropped the book considering all puissance were on her fingertips, engrossed texting. And in the time she picked it up, stuffs in her bag slipped out. She was awkwardly a turn off and so I decided to depart without even looking where she would be seated.
The following day, she did not show up; I did not expect her to come back. On the other day, she was already perched when I came. Staring at her closely: plain earrings, dyed hair, faint makeup, the badge in her uniform, and the book she was reading by Tom Porter, no doubt an architect student not far from my institution. I requested a different entrée this time, but at the same charge. There was nothing fancy about her, not even fairly ravishing except for the dint on the sides of her cheeks. I wonder what her name is. As she closed her book about to leave, her surname inked sidewise, Cordova. I finally unveiled something about her, at least.
Days had passed and I figured out she would only visit to lunch thrice a week. Increasingly, I was becoming an espionage to her. Every so often I would slyly tail her the moment she vacate the café. I did not care if she sees me, or else I would merely feign that were traversing the same route. Make-or-break, I irrevocably decided to introduce myself, I did not just know how.
One noontide, I saw her making way to the café. It was a terrible day for buckets of water come down from sky. She tried to cover herself with a book but failed so. Clumsy as ever, I whispered. Today is my day. I, on the abreast side of the street, with an umbrella amassing all the guts reserved, fleetly saved her from full-blown catastrophe. As gentle as a mist dress, I opened the door for her. This time, we shared the same table. We gibbered endlessly as the rain plummet unceasingly and decided to absent ourselves from respective class. Her name was Agnes Cordova and the rest is how we became lovers.
And they'd sit in the trees and they'd talk thru the night
While the blind moon swam in the pale starry light
And they talked and they crowed and they told what they knew
It was better than beer, it was all strange and new
There was grass all around, there was black up above
It was more than hello, it was something like love
I immediately responded, ‘tol anong ginagawa mo, lasing ka na.’
I didn't get infuriated nor offended. With the gut to kiss me, I know he was expecting the worst. But I realized while our lips in union, the heat I felt was different. It was difficult for me to explain the feeling and to let go, though I had to push him back. It was not anger reigning during those five seconds, and all I knew afterwards was my manhood started to spring.
‘Sorry buds, sinunod ko lang yung consequence nila.’
The girls shouted in grace ‘more! more!’ and we’re just too naive from all the teasing. I just said defensive, ‘tumigil na kayo lakas na ng amats nyo.’ Among the people in that room, I was the only one quite sober enough for I didn't drink that much, maybe the reason why I was easily affected with all their banter.
There on, I continued sympathizing with this tipsy girl whose almost about to cry. Until time calls for it, everyone was so liquored up heavily, they were stumbling on their way. ‘Guys, kaya niyo pa umuwi?’ I muttered. ‘Don‘t worry about us sanay na kami sa ganito, yung best friend mo alalayan mo.’ See you guys on Monday na lang then everyone went to their respective routes.
I was guiding him and still pretending I wasn‘t bothered by the kiss. And I know he do. He couldn‘t look at me in the face since that time. It was the most awkward moment of my life but, despite all I was interested of what‘s next to happen.
‘Kaya mo pa ba? Bakit kasi ang dami mong ininom eh.’
‘Kaya ko to,’ then you let you go off me. Shortly after, you tripped over something.
‘See, hindi mo na nga alam kung ano yang dinadaan mo.’
Typical, two drunks sitting in the gutter along the street; silent, waiting for a cab. The alcohol and the lethargic dawn started to kindle more strapping. And the yellow streetlights are the only source of consciousness.
‘Buds, ano kaya mo ba? Hatid kita sa inyo?’
‘Sarado na bahay namin buds, pwede ba sa iyo muna ako makitulog?’
I couldn't refuse a friend for a night so I said it‘s okay.
We fell asleep while drifting in the taxi. I couldn‘t resist sleeping so I just told the driver to wake me up when near. Thirty minutes after we were in my small rented room. He went straight off the bathroom and barfed out loud. In a minute or so, the room started to suffocate the rich liquor and all stuffs. I told him to change his clothes and lent some of my drawers. I was so tired I fell asleep without him noticing he was done. Then, an hour later I woke up. I saw him lying next to me and awake.
‘Oh, tapos ka na pala ‘di mo man lang ako ginising.’
You were reticent. ‘Do we have a problem here? Was it about earlier?’ Then you lean the opposite of me. As I forcefully held your shoulders towards me, you suddenly grabbed and kissed me. There was a pause as we looked into each other‘s eyes. This time, I let it happened. Our tongues went spinning for awhile and slowly our clothes started to scatter, both of us were in rage. These soaked and wrinkled sheets, the sounds of weeping and all quivering are proof this room were once dwelt by tainted innocence.
The morning after, I roused with you staring at me closely. It was the first time I get to appreciate his beauty. And the first words I heard of was I‘m sorry. ‘Ulol, fuck you!’ was my only reply. Then we both laughed.
We simmered ourselves a bit under the sheets, buck naked, and talked about last night. Then he left.
I didn't know it was the last time I was going to see him. On Monday, he was absent. I was trying to reach him but he never answered any of my calls. Our office mates commented, ‘maybe nahihiya lang yan because of the consequence last night.’ ‘Hehe, siguro nga.’ But seriously, I know there is something up.
I let it pass the next day. Still, he was absent. He wasn‘t texting back, too. I even went to their house to visit his ass but his father said he went to Camiguin.
‘Haven‘t you been informed? He said he went there with his girlfriend for a week.’
Really!? He‘s going on a trip without filing LOA. And I never knew he‘s got a new girlfriend.
A week after I was still contacting him. He answered.
Bro, galit ka ba? Kamusta?
No, busy lang ako.
Busy saan? With your trips? You know what, kung may problema just say it to me.
Buds, I don‘t have problems. I‘ll call you back.
I‘d waited but you never called. I thought there‘s a line now between us and I let this opportunity to lay low thinking we should give ourselves time. A month later, I was calling you and you answered.
Buds, okay ka na?
Why? I was never not okay.
Talaga? You just quit your job pre and most of all I have not seen you for a month. What are you up to?
Wala. I’m fine, don‘t bother.
Yun lang? No news? No something? I think we better meet tomorrow at SB, 8 am.
Sorry buds, I really don‘t have time for those. Busy talaga ko.
You don‘t have time? Do you even have a job and for god‘s sake it‘s our friendship at stake!
I‘ll see you there.
Then he hung up.
I woke up early morning for a meeting I set up myself without an assurance you would show up. I checked on my phone to see you‘d care a message however, maybe I was just expecting too much from you.
I looked outside the window and the clouds looked awful as it was going to burst. ‘Damn! Uulan pa yata.’ I was so impassive of everything from taking a bath to donning my clothes; I was thinking seriously of you to say things I never had a chance to since we became best friends. I was hoping this would be the right time to tell what you and I deserve to know.
It was 10 already and I was still outside the coffee shop waiting. I stood up to see around. Suddenly, the sky roars at me. The place fueled by aromatic coffee and the murmurs of people gently faded as the rain slowly come down in buckets. I was standing under it with hopes that in any second you would loom and stop them from falling....
I don‘t understand, every raindrop feels like nails stabbing.
The first day of class was hardcore. It was not really my anticipated cliché of public students going on their first day. That suddenly, a very lax man still corrupted by summer dormancy become ruffled with much moil. You better get your brain ready for if you have a loose one, you will trip. I happen to have one, sadly.
To say, I do not know anyone much in class. I can count in fingers my buddies and the rest are aliens. I know this is tragic. I will have again to heed for self-deprecating stunts to make friends—that is how most know me: a humorist I am not. My real friends are ahead of me so d*mn my life.
But despite of it all, my carouser cousins planned to hit the bottle as we always do in Trinoma. Firewater travels through our veins that every time it calls of refueling, our feet runs for quench. And despite, again, of my stewing over acid dyspepsia onslaught, I took all chances. Who cares anyway, my amour for alcohol is out of one’s mind. ‘See you later in hospital,’ was my devil-may-care answer.
We came in five of us first in the place. I took a Mindoro Sling cocktail as they didn't have my preferred Blue Margarita, very light I should say. And the usual bucket orders of Red Horse and San Mig Light to, I believe, wash out.
Before long, my sober being toned down as every time I took a leak, my feet tottered. And the moonshine reigning us shuffled with exhaust of cigar called forth out of thin air tittering; pulling one‘s leg over almost anything that loomed from our slipping unchaste. I kept myself sane as much as I ever could. My head might be spinning heavily but my thinking was quite unstirred.
It has really been my caprice to bore at people walking to and fro and around the place. Then, I started making my silence till we‘re the only ones left in the bistro and grill house. We decided to call it a night and paid our bill and went out. We stopped by the nearest café to temperate the intemperate alcohol.
If it was alcohol or soberness walloped its way to reach me, as something surfaced from earth’s depths—expected but unheard of. As I saw mostly crowds with the likeness of Heracles liquored up along, I tout de suite felt the vacuity, of this life abiding, became swamped by lechery rushing through every inch of my coming of age. To which made it water clear my gravitation to both men and women.
The dead air belching from my pith was of more disarray of feelings. A lone ore held of the few, by the few. And an enigma stolen from the unvarnished truth that I for one cannot refuse nor hand back, I hit the sack a heretic of my own.
Still, life goes on. Endowed with voluminous ventricles and atria to confine an all-inclusive perspective of and adventuresome bond. A man who can love anyone.
PS: i find this post ineffective. i might be too drunk.
On that frore dead of night of bleary and while on condoled walking, my heart had never trampled over my body that way. It was new to me. My arid hands that had always held bottles of liqueur and addictive thorns of cigars, started spouting dank butterflies. Even with, our hands enclosed much taut like a child fearful of being lost. As we walked our path seeming to last a short while, your skin grazed mine in euphoria. It felt perfect warm that I had only whimmed this picture to end not.
Cowed to break the charm of primordial gods, I gave in to your ways of silence. I gaped at you slyly, a face ofno ifs, ands or buts being with me. All I could do was to bog down our speed of treading, hoping I could feel your hands any longer. Soon, you looked at me. I felt thawing as your eyes telling me to look back. You stopped a sudden. How far are we going? It played in loops ‘till angst in my heart. I’m daunted how far can we go. My hands were shaken, your eyes cajoling every inch of me for words. I held both your hands reaching your arms then back, ending with our bosom entwined. Aren't this enough?, I muttered.
Of course it is.
Then why you ask?
It’s just....
Wrong? It‘s our relationship, Isn't?
No, of course it‘s not. I....
Let me take you home.
Hold on, we should do this a bit longer.
Night had fallen upon us without taking in further words. Its pale semblance finally succumbed to the fumes of our bodies embraced. I could‘t mind being virtuous now that your subtle lips were convincing. Every thrusts of crimson flesh seemed a gallop of lust. Were our sinful sap called in unison, I felt your heart running savage as mine catching up not far off the pace. It was my first kiss, I discerned it meant something.
We continued strolling down to your way home. This time my arms were across your shoulder. While we reached your house, we bluffed as friends as distance started to substance. Our eyes communed enough to say every phrase a lovers ought—a bond we bitterly pledged occult to any of their eyes‘s bigotry. As the door closed, a tone came out. I cannot lose you. So do I.
Gone are those days.
Just when I thought somehow everything I own smelled of you, your scent meekly slipped out of my esteemed memories. Now, everything I know of you flow past me everlessly. You were the person who thought me that love was never a choice, for I had to feel it more than anything else. When I had to blame myself for my frailties, you were there taking it. And I know for sure that the love I knew once will be different thereafter.
You were gone, you chose him over me without leave-taking litany. I would not mind as I had always been a sin for you; I had no right of my miserly intentions. My being was the most empty of all, engulfing you and so you could fill its expanse—a dreadfully romantic ambition. Still, your were the most sugar-coated tale I kept, that every time we may see each other now, I know there happened a mystery once. Love.
