6/27/2010
I couldn’t understand why so many people felt discontented by the fact that they had no one to be romantically be with. As I walk by the rain, without an umbrella going to school, or riding on a jeepney without someone to hold but my own soul, and even talking to my peers without dissing issues of being romantically involved with someone within our circle.
I thought there must be a time for everything. Yes. Everything. But this doesn’t include the things that are not meant for you. It could be happiness, an attractive personality, or love, or even a family.
That was until I met Ciara. I was a second year IT student when I realized…no! When I suddenly felt this feeling. It was so sudden as if one morning I just woke up and there was this blinding light burning before my eyes. At first, for the very seconds upon realizing its growth, I felt confused. But as fast as it emerged, was how fast it turned into something incredible. I felt like floating with the clouds, and then poetry was on the loose with the morning sunshine.
She had both the smart and beauty, though still not smarter than I was. Or maybe I was just denying it. But anyway that’s not the point. I was captivated by her presence every time she sat beside my seat as she usually did. I forgot to tell you that we’ve been classmates since our freshman years, and she’s been my best friend. Hence, every time she sat beside me, every time we do assignments together, and every time we give each other turns in recitation (we monopolized the subject discussion), I felt the wisp of connection becoming tighter and shorter like a strand of a silk, pulling us together, eating up the inches and centimeters of distance left between us. Right then, although I haven’t got any idea what it was; I might as well thought that I was in love.
And you might call me crazy, but I didn’t have any bad feelings, maybe a tiny room for jealousy, that’s all, upon knowing that she’s been going out with other man for months even before I fell for her. I wouldn’t want to call him names but since I would be referring to him repeatedly, economically, a “Pest” would do.
Pest, unlike any other college guys, was kind and gentle and honest and good hearted. He’s just damn uncorrupted (as far as we know), and to tell you why I didn’t feel much jealousy or bad feelings for Ciara having Pest, that’s because I and Ciara had been together for more than a year. We spent more time together and talked about more things that couldn’t be compared with other experiences from a relationship that hadn’t been going for more than a year. But frustratingly, we do that as best friends. Though in the first place, it doesn’t make any difference. You know, best friend and girlfriend, what’s the diff? (Please, don’t react that way).
So to deliver and serve the finish product, I’m between them. And I’ll be there forever unless they decided to break apart. No matter how “Pest” abhor my existence I’ll remain to be her best friend. And like what common best friends do, I’ll be watchful for the hazards and red flags rising along the way, and I promise that she’ll know it before dawn.
The end… that was if it would ever be published. And if it did, I was hoping that indeed Ciara was still alive and could still read (of course, she could read. Why not? Oh god! What am I saying), and also hoping that they’re no longer together with Pest. Anyway, it wouldn’t do so much harm because Ciara is just an alias. So don’t worry
***
That was March 2009. It was our EPS or Employment Preparation Seminar to be set within a cinema. I rode off a bus, walked a little bit towards the crowd. I was wearing formal attire minus the coat and tie. It was embarrassing that I was wearing a suit that was so much over my size. Anyway, I see sympathy from their eyes as I passed by and thereafter must feel better.
She was there. She was still beautiful with her long plain hair unkempt. It fell freely behind her shoulders like the mermaid’s. I looked at her, I looked at our other friends, and then to her, then to the other people behind us. I always make sure that I looked at her before I turn on anything else. They were laughing and so was she. I was not. I still felt embarrassed by how I looked like with my long sleeves and felt sorry that she could notice it, too.
I looked at her again, and this time a little longer.
“You look…. good.” She said.
“I know.” She was being sarcastic.
“Don’t you have a tie?” she asked.
As I looked around, everyone was wearing their ties. So I unzipped my backpack and draw out my long red tie.
“I have.”
As I began to wrap it around my neck, I realized that she was walking closer. My stomach churned in a way that forced me to breathe in.
“Let me do it. My mother thought me how to tie a tie this morning.”
Oh, please.
So I handed it to her, trying to make it as casual as I could, trying to stand as if I felt nothing emerging from my chest.
She held both ends, and after recognizing which side is which, reached out around my neck. Funny it was, I didn’t attempted to turn my head lower or around so our face wouldn’t stick together but instead, as she wrapped my tie around me, I feel, smell and remember with all my senses plus one as her face almost closed the distance away from mine. I would never forget the smell of her usual conditioner and cute perfume. I tried not to look at her eyes.
And done! I have my tie tied around my neck like a businessman without a case. She did some finishing touch on it, and I felt tickled as her fingertips probed for my collar button and closed it with a sigh of relief. She was chewing mentos. And I finally breathed out.
I wanted to say “thank you” and kiss her, but she was taken.
“Thank you.”
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