A Requiem of Tears
It's raining again.
(Sigh) Rain always reminds me of her, my unattainable, my myth that I have to believe in.
Oddly enough rain doesn't have a connection with our story but its rhythmic pitter-patter never fails to illicit that flash of memory so connected with my tale of love.
I still remember vividly how that story formally opened.
It was on an almost perfect Wednesday evening at the around six o'clock at the student center of the university where I study. The moon was in its ideal spherical shape, the breeze was just enough to make you want to relax, the overall mood of the school was that of resignation and leisurely respite, the birds were chirping and there was even a butterfly fluttering behind the scenery in the form of my classmate who wishes to remain unknown, but suffice it enough that we call her "Dark ButterfLynn" (pronounced Dark Butterfla-yeeen).
I was conversing with some friends including my ultimate crush along with her Lepidoptera friend, Dark Butterflynn (which actually surprised me since I was on the impression that butterflies cannot communicate at least not utilizing the human language, but then again life is full of surprises and this must rank as the most surprisingly surprising of them all).We were talking about some funny stuffs and other nonsensical issues our minds can concoct. I was smiling and sometimes laughing (when the situation requires itself) but all that was, in reality, one big travesty for as I stared at the dark brown eyes of my crush, the seemingly perfect curls of her long dark, wavy hair, the delicate curves of her body and her almost innocuous sweet smile, I became uneasy.
"I have to tell her," I kept telling myself.
"Fool!" my conscience would bellow. "She would just reject you and you will have to live the rest of your life in shame!"
"But what if she accepts me?" my other part countered.
Then I finally decided that I do not want to spend the rest of my life behind the shadows of "what ifs," I'm going to tell her what I want to say regardless of the consequences.
"Uhm, hey, Rhea, care to take a walk?"
Notwithstanding the curious glance I got from my tiny little winged biped friend, I pressed on. "There's just something I gotta tell you but its, uhm, personal." I tried to flash my most convincing, if not cutest, smile but I could just imagine myself looking like a complete idiot in front of Rhea, my crush.
"This is it," my conscience gave a victory cheer. "She's going to tell you to pack your bags and go home to momma. Wheeeeeeee!"
"Sure, why not." She then gave me one of her 24-karat smiles.
She actually agreed! I was euphoric and floating up in cloud nine. My conscience was shocked. "You actually did it! How could I ever have doubted you ol'chap!"
"Told yah," my other self beamed.
Whew, hard part's over.
The "walk" itself was actually just a four-meter hike to the other corner of the student center which was uninhabited. We took two chairs and (imagine my surprise) she placed it next to mine. I could have jumped up and down (if you can jump down) but I held myself in check. I must put on my best act in order to impress her.
"What now?" she inquired.
The silence was dreadful.
I have rehearsed this speech a hundred times but now not a sound came from my vocal cords. It's as if a lump of stone blocked my speech tract. My mind totally blanked out and all I could do for the moment was give her a weak smile.
"Hawwa hawwa hawwa." Seems I learned Chinese in the shortest possible time.
"Huh?" Rhea smiled.
This is it, it's now or never. I then summoned all the courage I had left and discarded the last vestiges of my sanity and finally spoke…
"Are you thirsty?" Erp, that was actually not part of the plan but on my defense – here you are sitting beside the girl of your dreams and tell me if you can act normal.
Rhea looked at me (probably wondering if I'm some kind of stupid idiot or just plain dumb or both). I could feel her eyes boring deep into my very soul.
"Is that what you really want to tell me?" she asked, I took note of the sweetness of her voice (which is actually irrelevant to this story but hey, I'm in love, so bear with me).
I looked anywhere except at her. I was contemplating as to how I would get this thing started. "Whatever," I told myself. "Here goes."
"Rhea, you know that we've only known each other for a short period of time but you know what, I treasure every moment that I'm with you because of this feeling that I cannot comprehend." I paused to see if she would respond but she just looked at me so I continued. "Uhm, I don't really know if this is right but I know one thing's for certain – my heart smiles whenever I see you." (I was actually asking myself how a heart can smile if it doesn't have a mouth) I pressed on, "You're very special to me, but you know what? I do not believe that I could reach you but at least one can try. Right?"
Now if I was trying to set a new world record for the most "knows" used in a paragraph then that would have been fine but I wasn't doing that. I was just trying to bring down a point but as a colorfully black-winged friend of mine once advised me, "You just have to be yourself and the rest is up to the person if he/she can accept you for who you are." She provided me the impetus for this confrontation.
After telling Rhea all that, I ended with a (rather stupid if you asked me) question, "Rhea, can I keep you in my heart?"
AAAAHHHHHH! Why did I just say that? I wanted to cover my ears. I felt so unwise, foolish, dull, brainless, dim-witted, silly, daft, imprudent, unintelligent, obtuse, ridiculous, ludicrous, and injudicious. I just wanted to dig a very deep hole and crawl inside, never to come back. I felt like I just ruined my future and that I would be expelled from this university if not deported from the country.
My ever-ubiquitous diabolic conscience hooted gleefully at the prospect of my pain. "See! I told yah!"
"Yes Vincent, you may," was her unexpected reply.
"Wha-what?" my conscience was at loss as to what to do. "This is an outrage! I demand a complete re-assessment of things! She is obviously deranged or just plain stressed out from all the office works that she faced for the whole morning that it can be construed that she is not at grips with her mentality!"
I myself could not grasp what just happened. I attempted not to smile but no matter how hard I tried I just could not stop a sly grin from forming on my lips. That moment must have ranked as one of the happiest in my life. That marked the day when I was able to overcome my fears and concerns, it was that moment when I finally destroyed that age-long myth that I was the "torpe" king.
"Aha! The fight had only just begun," it was my evil conscience again. "What you just did is only tantamount as saying 'Can I court you?' and her response was also 'Yes, you can give it a try.'"
My conscience was right, of course, but that day marked a milestone on my life. Something had changed. Now, I have an objective – a goal. I now have a purpose and an inspiration. Life couldn't get any better or worse. All the glittering prospects of life are finally laid before my very eyes. The girl of my dreams almost at my grasp, never in my life had I imagined that I would be ever to talk to her alone much more date her then court her.
Yes, life is beautiful. And I also used the word "life" four times in that paragraph (five if you include the second to the last sentence).
One month ago
The sun shone brightly on this typical Wednesday afternoon (why, oh why does every significant event I have with this girl happens on a Wednesday. Yes, I now agree that fate, indeed, has a sick sense of humor). What made that day special was that it was the volleyball tryouts for all second year students in preparation for the upcoming Sportsfest celebration. I was in charge for the men's tryouts.
After several serves, spikes, boohooing, wailing, complaining, and shouting, exhaustion finally befell on all involved – coaches, players, officers, and acolytes alike. A fifteen-minute break was given to all the participants. Taking advantage of this time out, I went to a nearby fountain to satisfy my body's craving for cold water. Much to my chagrin, I discovered that it was not functioning.
"Oh well, just my luck," I turned around and immediately came face to face with Rhea.
The world stopped rotating and everything seems to come to a halt – kind of like those you see in movies where the director decides to have a certain scene in slow motion. I noticed that she was moving her mouth but it took me a moment to realize that she was actually talking to me.
"…need some water?" she was asking me.
I managed to stammer a "Y-y-yerz" but noticing her confused gaze I decided to follow it up with a nod.
She seemed to get the point so she told me to wait while she gets some drinks.
"I could wait forever dear," I quietly said when she was out of earshot.
"AAHH! What did you just do!" I slapped my forehead with my right arm. "No, you were cool, you did not freeze."
"Oh God I did freeze and stammered. I'm done for, she must've thought that I'm some kind of loser." My pessimism got the better of me again.
"Oh no here she comes. Stay calm and don't do anything stupid."
She was carrying a bottle of mineral water and as she approached she asked me if I had been waiting that long and apologized for being late.
I mumbled an "It's okay" but I think it more on sounded like the squeak of a mouse. She did not seem to notice the predicament I was facing so I decided to push my luck and drink the bottled water.
Just as I expected, it wasn't a brand new mineral water, it was just a refill. But I'm not complaining, I mean who am I that's worth a ten-peso drink? But the effort she exerted on giving me some refreshments, what was that all about? My heart was beating faster and faster and I was (for a moment) scared that she would hear the steady thumping of my heart.
I forced myself not to attach any underlying meaning on that "mineral water incident." No need to get all excited in something so irrelevant. Besides, she's a nice girl with a big heart for the needy and also she must've been compelled, as an officer of the Supreme Student Government (SSG), to show her support and appreciation for the job that we were doing.
Funny as this may seem but I still have that bottle of mineral water (of course bereft of any water) as a kind of memento of our first encounter of noteworthy value.
However, it seemed that that meaningful, if not embarrassing, occurrence was just a foretaste of things to come.
A few days later…
"Hi! Good morning."
"Why, good morning Vincent," Rhea replied.
This was just another one of those series of encounters I had with Rhea. Almost everywhere I go I would meet her. Fortunately I had gotten grip of my senses and now acted cool and collected. Gone were the stammering and blabbering nonsense and in their place were imperturbable hellos, good mornings, good afternoons, good evenings, goodbyes, what's ups, and tagi daw pisos.
That was lucky for me since I would meet her at the gate, at the canteen, and the covered walk, I would meet her almost everywhere; I think the only place where we haven't actually met is the comfort room.
One afternoon (thank God it was not on a Wednesday), I was waiting for my friend and classmate, Shiori, a dark-haired meztiza high up in the echelons of the SSG, who, if it was not for her Japanese blood, would have been reasonably attractive. For reasons unclear to me, it had always been our routine to go home together. As Shiori emerged from their office, she was followed in quick succession by Rhea who looked cute in her black uniform adorned with the letters SSG in highly stylized Nordic runes and further bolstered by a red headband. She was accompanied by the fluttering Dark Butterflynn who wore the same uniform though lacking the headband.
Butterflynn suggested that since we were all friends, "How about we all walk together on our way home."
I was stunned. It was as if everything that I ever knew was a lie. The world which my parents and teachers carefully built was suddenly torn to pieces. I couldn't help myself, I must know the truth.
"How can butterflies talk?" I asked in sheer bewilderment.
Dark Butterflynn patiently answered my question, "When the vocal tract is maladjusted by a static electron of the square root of minus one over log log tangent X, theta R squared over N dx from zero to infinity, audio signals is created which our brain can then interpret to form what we call as 'talking'."
"Oh, I see," that was my cue that I should no longer be asking any questions from a Lepidoptera.
Several days pass by and that incident was again replicated on an almost daily basis. It became standard routine for us. We even went far as to form a core group whose membership was solely restricted to us. I worked that situation to my advantage. Being one of the original founders of our clique, I was in a strategically good position to be close with Rhea. We texted everyday, usually sending greetings, jokes, and other quotes. We would spend our free time conversing while having lunch or snack. Gone were the embarrassment and discomfort for a new and special "friendship" was emerging between me and Rhea.
Everything seemed perfect. Everyone was happy to see us together. Mother Earth herself was not against our relationship (although I cannot give proof for that assumption). It seemed that nothing can tear us apart – me, Rhea, and our little group.
Yes, nothing, except for the semestral break.
Semestral Break
The much awaited month-long respite for students has finally arrived. Every student and teacher is excited at the prospect of them being able to go home to their hometowns, relax, and just plain lounge around with no thought for any school work.
However, I did not share their enthusiasm.
Semestral break meant that I would be parted with Rhea. It seemed that the two months that we spent together was not enough to counter the days which we would spend away from each other's company.
But what can I do? We're still kids and have our responsibilities at home with our parents.
"Why are you afraid anyway?" I kept on asking myself.
"C'mon, it's just for a short period of time," said Butterflynn.
"What do you know!" I said quietly. "You're just a caterpillar who evolved into a winged insect for Christ's sake!"
But Rhea's reassuring gaze coupled with her hand reaching out into my left cheek boosted my confidence and undermined my fears.
"Don't worry Vincent dear, whenever we find ourselves missing each other, we'll just have to close our eyes and we'll be together," she said reassuringly. "We'll never be too far from each other." What more could I ask for? I trust in her completely and although I had my fears that, considering her beauty and brains, other guys would, no doubt, be attracted to her, I knew that she loves me (or so she said).
I reluctantly said goodbye and left for Can-avid, my idyllic little hometown at the base of the mountains of Samar.
"Vincent wake up, help me with the spaghettis." It was my mother calling me.
Bleary eyed, I tried to make sense why my mother would be serving spaghetti this early in the morning or this day in particular. Then it hit me - our town's annual fiesta.
A time for foods, drinks, and get-togethers for some people, time for relaxation games, and money for kids, but for me, it's just time for two days of hard work and tedious, if not meticulous, job of managing the foods and entertaining the guests.
And I thought that I could finally escape from my hectic school life and just take it easy. Some sem break huh?
I stood up and went downstairs only find my sisters and mother already drenched with perspiration.
"Vincent, where have you been? We've been calling you for like an eternity! Come here boy; help us with the lechon and spaghetti." Meet my mother, Amelia. She's an attractive black haired beauty of Samar. A typical Filipina I guess. Right now she wore her hair in a bun but though she's already a mother of three her lean and slender body fools people into thinking that she's just a teenager. Some would even call her my elder sister.
"Vincent! Don't just stand there! Work work work!"
(Sigh) Just another day in paradise I guess.
I prepared the foods, arranged the tables, cleaned the dishes, entertained some guests, punched a few party crashers, and then got drunk. I was so exhausted from the day's work that as evening approached, I immediately fell into a deep slumber. But was that from exhaustion? I think it was mainly from the alcoholic beverage I just imbibed.
I woke up with a start. It was already 6:45A.M.; I could already hear my mother's shrill voice calling for me to help in the preparation of the foods (again). I checked my cellular phone (more of a habit than mental whim). AAAHHHH! I completely forgot to text Rhea and by now there were more than thirty-eight unread messages and fifteen misscalls all coming from the same recipient – Rhea.
"Hi dear, muzta na?" read one.
"Busy right?" another text.
"Text me if you have time ok? Luv yah ,")"
I punched the reply button and was about to conceive some sweet and innocent fabricated message explaining the reason for my inability to text her when the door to my room was suddenly flung open.
"VINCENT!" oh god it was my mother. "So this is what you were doing all along! Just texting while we, downstairs, were doing all the work, and I don't care if "were" is a second person past indicative, just interpret it as being present progressive." Hehe, she knows that I'm an English major student.
"Please ma, just one text message," I pleaded.
"No! Give me that!" she snatched my cellphone with the skill and finesse of a seasoned snatcher. "Now get downstairs and work! You'll only get your phone back once we finish all our duties."
"(Sigh) don't worry mom, cavalry's coming," I said quietly.
"What?"
"Nothing"
The following day…
YYYEES! No more work. Now I can really relax! With the fiesta over and the influx of visitors gradually slacking, I found time to take a respite, I was even able to coerce my mother into giving me back my cellphone using colorful philosophical sayings like "Atara dama, makatatawa man adto an ginhimu ni Mang Tasio. Ma, an akon cellphone?" and so on and so forth.
I immediately called Rhea (I think she deserved the PhP 115.00 load spent on the call considering my inability to text her for the past two days) and profusely apologized for not being able to reply to her messages.
"It's okay dear, I understand," she said.
That's Rhea for me. Now do you know why I immensely love this girl?
I heaved a great sigh of relief; I guess I am not in trouble. Lucky me for having a very understanding girlfriend.
I was exhilarated, ecstatic and elated about my vacation. Rhea and I were constantly texting, I got nothing to do at home but just plain chill out and watch some movies, my mother bought me a new cellphone, and my sister gave me a new portable DVD player. What more could I ask for? Life's looking lovelier by the minute.
One day my new cellphone beeped (or rang whatever it is you wish to call it). I excitedly grabbed it and pushed the view button (you know how it is with new stuffs and all). It was from Rhea. I smiled (her name on my inbox never fails to illicit a smile from me). I read her message, it was some kind of quotation, but after I finished reading it my smile turned into a disturbed frown. The quote read as follows:
The heart of a woman falls back with the night,
And enters some alien cage in its plight,
And tries to forget it has dreamed of the stars
While it breaks, breaks, breaks on the sheltering bars.
Woah, that was a pretty unusual message, I mean unusual in the sense that it completely deviated from the cheerful and romantic quotes she would usually send to me. I immediately replied, "Nice quote dear, but a bit sad. What's wrong?"
"It's just a quote; don't attach any meaning to it. I just found it nice and decided to forward it to you. Don't worry about it dear," was her reply.
"Really? I just thought that there was something unusual about your message. Well, anyway, if you have problems you know I am always here for you."
No reply.
…
Still no reply.
Maybe she unexpectedly ran out of load. You know how it is with SMART Telecommunications.
"Dear, check op? Just text me if you already have load okay? I love you very…"
My cellphone suddenly played the chorus of SUM 41's hit song "Pieces" (which is actually my current ringtone for incoming messages. My cellphone, you know, employs the latest in digital sound technology. Haha! I bet by now you're envious).
Maybe it's Rhea!
I cancelled (for the time being) my composed reply to her to verify if it was indeed she who texted me.
The name of the sender was Rhea.
Wheee! I bet her message was delayed by network traffic. Damn those SMART Telecommunications bureaucrats! Right now I am seriously contemplating switching to SUN Cellular.
I excitedly opened her message. It read, "Dear, I actually have this problem but I'm reluctant to tell you. It's about my ex boyfriend. Please don't be angry, you don't have anything to worry about. I'm going to fix this."
That was pretty sketchy. I mean it lacked the significant information I needed to make sense of the whole situation, besides, her "Please don't be angry" phrase somewhat concerned me. What was it that I might be angry?
"She could have told me more," I thought. For all I know she might be pregnant! I shook my head and forcibly forced those thoughts out of my mind. Not Rhea, she cannot possibly do that. What are you doing? You're just being paranoid. Quit worrying and just trust her, after all isn't that what love really is, mutual trust?