Click.
Whir.
"This is tape number 124, Sunday, 11.30 am.
I've never been good at conversations. Most of the time I'd end up bickering, and as all those social etiquette fanatics say, bickering is not a form of conversation. Not that I need to converse with anyone though, why would I need to? It's like, you don't talk to me, I don't talk to you. It's actually a better deal, as I try to be at least as most civil as I can be if you talk to me first. Courtesy dictates you to be polite anyhow. And when I take the initiative to talk, boy, do I reel you in my world for an argument you're not bound to enjoy.
Which is why I cannot understand my normally rational self. Here I am, waiting for...this person to show up in a meeting that I proposed we have. Talk about surprises.
It came out of the blue actually, the urge to call him up. Picking up the phone and dialing his number was similar to responding to a long forgotten instinct. One raining night when I was experiencing a rare impulse in me to crave for human contact, or be human for once...or whatever was it in me, I called him up, asked him to talk to me, arranged the particulars of our meeting and put down the phone.
Afterwards, I wanted to kill myself.
Which brings me to my current situation. I was juggling the thoughts of skipping out of this meeting, calling him up to cancel, pretending not to know him when he came or, which was the thought I was entertaining more, let this abnormally insane self of mine flow with the river of fate therefore ruining my entire "charming" personality.
Wait, I'm already insane...just usually not this way. Probably, if I get through this anomalous episode of my life once, I'll never experience it again, kind of similar to getting chicken pox when you're a kid and being immune to it for the rest of your life. Perhaps if I get over this now, I'll never find myself surprised and wondering why in heaven's name was I doing this...this societal thing.
Back to the event at hand. I just took a look at my watch; he's late, as always. He never was one to mind the time anyway, he always thought the world revolved around his almighty presence. Self-centered imbecilic nut. Even when we were...an item, which is a fact I won't say again, bear in mind, he always was that way. Somehow though, no matter how much I tell him how stupid he is, or how childish he always acts, I've always admired him. I've always been able to smile for a reason other than because it's the polite thing to do. I've always loved---
Oops. Pretend I didn't say anything. Just think of it as an effect of me being insane-in-a-totally-different-way.
Damn. I might as well say it, as long as I have this excuse that my mind had a temporary breakdown which resulted to its shutdown therefore bringing me to be a normal human being.
I've always loved him. Now that I've said that, it would be nice if the entire world just fell on me right now. I guess I still do, in ways, all right, in a lot of ways. It's bothering me actually, love's such a complex process of meeting at the right time, having the right combination of environment, romantic weather...all those riffraff. Then there's this whole society view blahs, the contradicting perspectives, et cetera. With all the needed ingredients, or circumstances, or whatever you just damn need, love's damn near impossible to happen.
Ok, I'll shut up on that now. Guess I still have at least a small piece of my normal mind that's working. Nope, it wasn't a total breakdown.
Have I ever mentioned how we started to be in each other's company? It was the silliest event in my life, by the way. No matter how much I tried that something of that event never happened to me, it did, which is why I believe that Fate must have been a comedian once in his life...
Oh right, the story. It's nothing much, actually. It's a very cliched tale, mind you, and usually, in movies with the same story line, they end up spending the rest of their lives together...ugh, that's a scary thought. Anyway, we were the embodiment of complete opposites. I'm the silent brooding one, dealing with facts, realities and everything you can define with figures. He was the conversationalist, to put it nicely. When he started to talk, he was impossible to stop, except when you offered him food, which is his weak point. He believes in miracles, in higher purposes, and that the world can be saved. I was a neat freak; he was a tornado wherever he went. To him, life is a blessing you should be eternally grateful for, while for me, it was simply just existing, something that will end after which you get buried and turn into dust. Complete opposites.
As all cliched tales have, we had an exception. It was the However. In our predicament, it was that we corresponded to each other. He was I; I was He. As crazy as it is, his weakness was his strength and vice versa. We were a perfect team. It was only natural and, no matter how much I try to deny it was, romantic, for us to end up together. There were just some things in life that you couldn't control, no matter how much you try to prevent these situations from happening. I told you Fate has a very wicked sense of humor.
But, as reality would have it, nothing stands forever, commonplace as it may sound. It was as natural as we got together that we separate. However, with all my reasoning abilities, I couldn't really see why we had to drift apart. Perhaps this was the reason I called him. Perhaps this is why I'm so angry with myself, because I couldn't figure out anything right...this is his area of expertise, anyway.
I have no reason, no justification for my wanting to know the reason of our separation. He's most probably moved on, outgoing person he was. He's probably even had a few flings by now. Nothing serious yet, as I know for a fact that it takes time for him to be his real self...why do I know him so well anyway?
As for me, I have somebody new. No, it wasn't even close to what we had, as much as I want to imagine that this current "entanglement" I'm in is by far the most fulfilling one I've had. No, I know myself to an extent, and I know that I already had the best one...yep, that's the one. I'm not saying anything though. It's what most people refer to with the saying that first love never dies. It's a lot like that, only it's a lot more complicated than most of us would ever think of. The point is, this new thing of mine, we're working for it. It's going to take a lot of effort, considering my philosophies and beliefs, but it would disappoint him if I didn't try.
It just has to boil down to him. It's frustrating you know. He told me, at the end of what I usually refer to as my imagined-reality, to be happy...to move on. He'd be very disappointed if I didn't. He smiled then...and that was everything we've had. It was nothing to what we hoped for. I try to follow him anyway, although the realist in me dictated I don't have to. Somehow though, I still try to follow him. Damn the complications of love.
Ugh, a shiver went down my spine.
I shouldn't be talking like this. I'm ranting, which I don't do. Where is that idiot anyway? He's late...very late. Then again, I knew he would be; why did I go early?
I really need his stupid rationalizations.
When he comes though, I'd shut up, normal person I am. He'd goad me to talk, and he'd never bring up the fact that I was actually the one who asked to be listened to. He wouldn't, because he knows my issues. I'd keep uttering monosyllables at him for a while and then, we'll talk as if we just happened to see each other down the street like we didn't plan to.
We'd do that, because it's natural in us, which is an absurd reason, but I'd accept that, all facts forgotten---"
"Still doing that recording thing? You never change, you know. Here, let me do you a favor and turn this thing off; you're starting to look like all your life's supposed to be in that tiny box---"
Whir---
A slender hand reaches for the stop button.
Click.
Kaka
092102