twists, turns and inconsistency

“I’m itching to get you out of my life, Mark. Don’t you realize that? You can’t just show up anytime  and make me feel like the happiness I need lies in the corners of your smile and burst like a bubble when you’re not in the mood and forget me like I’m not even part of your life. You’re not my Prince Charming nor are you my Knight in Shining Armor – I’m no damsel nor am I in distress and clearly, I don’t need your saving.”  

That was it.

That was the end of whatever we had – pretty much the end of it all.

But I guess I thought wrong because no, we weren’t done yet, feelings of relief and guilt dawned on me and I don’t know how that’s even possible but I felt relieved because I was able to get rid of him and well, guilty because I guess I was a bit – no, I went way too overboard with what I told him last night but I want to believe that that was what he needed.

I saw him in the hallway the week after but he didn’t talk to me nor did he look my way. It should be better this way, I thought. When I opened my locker, I saw a small note with the most familiar penmanship I know saying; I’m sorry for all the confusion I caused you but if this changes anything, I love you. I always have, even before Enzo did. Give me one last chance, D. Meet me at the back building, 4pm. Love always, M.

I don’t know what had gotten into me but the moment my wristwatch read 3:55 pm – I caught myself running towards the back building and forgetting all the anger, the hurt and the confusion he caused me.  Because he’s right - the happiness I needed really did rest in the corners of his smile and he might have been leaving me hanging on his mixed signals but I like feeling that way. That’s the twist in our story — I liked the feeling of being uneasy and unsure. I liked the inconsistency of it all because I grew up dealing with that word — inconsistency. And because that’s what I do – I forgive people easily, no matter how much suffering they have caused me.

He stood there, with three roses in his hand and may I recall the last few words he whispered in my ears when I fell in the solace of his arms.

Falling, yes I am falling. And she keeps calling me back again.  

And yes, that was it – the start of it all. 

Closure (n): putting an end to things well.

I used to think that I could get over you but eight, nine, ten – eleven months have already passed and I’m still here, thinking about all those Friday nights and Saturday mornings we both shared. Getting used to the thought of not having you next to me on train rides, not hearing you sing How Deep Is Your Love when you know I’m mad and not having that one person who understands my every flaw, tolerates and tries to straighten out my every mistake, accepts me for who I am even if I’m a bitch, was even harder.

You’re like Summer Finn and I feel like Tom Hansen. As cliché as this will sound but it was you who woke up and realized what you weren’t sure of with me. You took off without saying goodbye but you left your favorite scarf with me. Yes, the one you used during our first Christmas together. If I remember well, it was a Sunday morning when you took off, you packed all your bags and you took your chances while I was still sleeping. No wonder you made me drink a lot of alcohol that night, you had everything planned. I thought you’d come back but two, three, four – five days have gone and not even a text, an email or even a note was left for me to read.

Closure, yes, closure. That’s what we never had.

But I’m not mad – not even holding grudges. I still don’t understand why you left me hanging. Do you know how hard it is to stay up late, thinking back and figuring out why you left and took off? For months, I kept on telling myself to hang on and believe that somehow, the universe will conspire with us and make our ends meet again but I’m tired. You’re the one who left. And with leaving comes detachment, with detachment comes independence. I can and I will pull myself back together. With or without you, I’ll make it.

This is where I stop, this is where I let go.

Escape (v): to break free from confinement or control.

The lights dimmed. The doors opened and closed as people walked in. The music started to intensify. The atmosphere reeked of smoke and alcohol. The people were slowly loosing themselves to tequilas and margaritas. The place was full of people – living different lives, having different problems and suffering different depressions but they all shared one thing: they were all human.

Megan was manic-depressive and even the littlest and simplest things made her sad, her heart was very fragile so when her Dad, her only source of strength, left them, the first thing she wanted to do was to escape.

The first time Megan saw Gabriel was the moment she walked into that place. Gabriel was a musician and she hated him for being so inclined with it because when her dad left, she started to hate music. She hated it with so much passion that she threw all of her mixed tapes and CDs, kept all of their radios in their stock room, covered their piano and to the point that she even sold her music player. But Gabriel and the music he created was different, even if  she couldn’t stand him striking a piano key, strumming a chord, beating a drumbeat or hitting a falsetto, she always opted to stay with him, because with Gabriel, albeit feeling away from the world, she felt completely safe. He was her escape.  

“You know what, Gab. No matter how much I try to hate your music, since I hate music, generally. I can’t seem to hate yours.” Megan admitted.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” he asked.

For about two minutes, Megan sat there thinking whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. Gabriel didn’t want to make it seem like he was waiting for her answer so he decided to distract himself by tuning his black Fender guitar because his band was going to play that midnight. He was always like that, pre-occupied with music even if he had a lot of problems to face in the real world but he always had a presence of mind when it came to Megan. He always had time for her and he would do anything just to make her fall in love with music again.

“Good thing, of course.” she answered.

“Great. Meg, you can’t run away from music.” he said.

“I know. It’s silly, right? Stupid even.” she agreed.

“Well, not entirely. I’ve been there and for countless times, I tried to escape it but really, there’s something about it that draws me back in. It’s like, if I run away from it, a huge part of me vanishes and when I try to get back, little by little, the gaps created in my heart are filled and the walls I’ve created are now broken. Music is my only escape and well, it could be yours too.” he said.

“Will you help me escape, then?” she asked.

“Never thought you’d ask but sure.” he smiles. 

Gabriel grabs his guitar, connects it to an amplifier, gives Megan the stage and the microphone and finally, they perform with much harmony and grace. Together, they’re more than a beautiful melody.

Three words.

“Do you still love her?”

“What made you ask that?”

“Just answer me, Greg. Do you still love her?”

“Aya, how many times do I have to tell you that you are the only girl in my life right now? You tell me to be honest and all that shit but you are the one who’s having a hard time trusting.”

“Greg… its not that-“

“No, Aya, its alright. I get it. You love me but you don’t trust me. I thought we already settled this?” 

“We already did, I know. But your actions show otherwise.” 

“Aya…”

“Greg, please, just tell me if you want to end this already.”

“She’s our friend, Aya. She’s your best friend. I can’t just leave her hanging like that. When you said yes to me, you did know that I was going to need extra help from you, right? When you said yes to me, you agreed to help me move on but look at yourself right now.”

“What, Greg? That I’m not trying harder? Or I’m not persistent enough? How can I help you get rid of those feelings if you can’t even go on a day without messaging her? Its only been three months, I know - but how long do I have to wait for you? How long do I have to suffer? I get your point, Greg! You love me but you can’t let her go. You want to move on but you can’t - because you still have feelings for her.” 

“What do you want me to do, Aya?” 

“I don’t know, Greg. I never thought it would be this hard.” 

“I’m sorry. I know, its not enough to make up for all the pain I’m causing you but I’m sorry. Do you want me to prove to you that you’re the only girl in my life right now?” 

“….” 

“Aya. Please, listen.” 

“I am listening.” 

“Aya. Even if I’m miles away from you, your smile is the first thing I remember in the morning. When I play with my guitar, I imagine your voice serenading my ears. And your laugh, I miss it so much. You’re my sunshine, Aya. I can never go a day without you and I don’t really see how you can’t realize that. I know the distance is heartbreaking and its consuming your thoughts but you have to put in mind that I will always love you, no matter what. If you ever think about getting jealous again, think about those three words - because you are the first person to hear them coming from me.” 

“Being in a relationship requires trust, Aya.” 

“And so does being honest. I’m sorry for unintentionally hurting you by having doubts. At least I have the guts to say that these thoughts are bothering me so bad that I can’t even think straight. I keep holding on to our promises but there have been loop holes everywhere and I just can’t stop myself from thinking about them. You always tell me that I’m the only one and that you’ll never forget your promises but your actions aren’t showing them either. It kills me to know that you’re miles away from me now, that I can’t even touch you, kiss you or just lie down beside you. You blurt out these words like you have it worse, Greg. You don’t seem to realize all these but I’m the one who was left behind, I’m the one alone.” 

Phone Calls II.

I woke up to the inviting aroma of Lola’s sweetest, mouth-watering, chocolate chip pancakes and to the sound of Aly’s cutest snore. She was sleeping soundly beside Mr. Patches and I really have no idea how they managed to sneak beside me last night. I wasn’t able to finish my manuscript for Theater class because all my thoughts went down the drain since Enzo confessed and now, I’m the one who’s left with thoughts and while I was trying to get my thoughts straight, my Lola asked me to wake up my little sister.

“Aly. C’mon. You have to wake up now. Lola is calling us for breakfast already.”
“Isn’t it a Saturday, Ate?” she asked.
“Yes but you promised me we’ll go walk little Sammy to the park today.”
“Alrighty.”

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Phone Calls.

It was way past midnight and I was still concentrating on the blank Microsoft Word document that I opened two hours ago, right after my little sister, Aly, gave her good night kisses to me (yes, she sleeps late in the summer). And exactly when I was on the brink of discovering the antagonist of the play that I was currently writing about; somebody really had to call me up and wash away all my thoughts.  

“Hello?” I answered.   
“Hi, Drea.”

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