In my bedroom
The three-night stand and three-day standoff would have been enough. It should have been enough to tell me where to cut the rope before it gets too tangled. But it was not.
We met again last Saturday. I do not remember who texted who but we agreed to meet up at Gaisano Mall. I did not mind that I did not have enough sleep from writing the previous night and that I have to work at 10PM that night.
We just sat in that dimly-lit café waiting for his pancakes and spring rolls. It was the usual tirade, the occasional Visayan banter wherein I laughed a lot because he sounded so much like Sam Milby. We talked about everything but the topic I knew both of us wanted to discuss. We never got to that; instead we just held hands, played with each others’ fingers just like any other normal couple.
I tried to be aloof; I tried not to look so eager to be in his presence. At first I succeeded: I did not kiss him on the mouth when I arrived but just like a drug that I could not live without for too long, I succumbed to his caress, his touch that electrified me to the core.
That afternoon was like a film shot in dream-sequence. We looked like the happiest couple walking in the drizzle along the streets of Ilustre. I took him to the park he wanted to visit (“to show how Davao is like back home”, he said). We laughed some more, held hands and embraced. We had sketches made in a mall arcade and finally had massages while holding hands.
It was the best afternoon I’ve ever spent with someone but of course I did not tell him that. I decided to say proper goodbye in case I don’t get to see him again and he said he hated goodbyes. For a moment, I thought I saw tears brimming his dark brown eyes as I stared at him, trying to memorize his face.
I was ready to close the K chapter. I know I was already in too deep and if I went in further, I won’t be able to turn back. I changed my desktop background that night when I went to work. And I changed the source folder of my laptop’s screensaver. I was determined to get it over with and rip it off like a band-aid.
Just when I was halfway into it though, my PC pinged signaling a new message: FACEBOOK: K (last names deleted) sent you a message. I read the message with my heart threatening to pump its way to my throat. When I was done, tears were in my eyes.
No drop fell but in that exact moment, I wanted to cry.
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