Miyerkules, Hulyo 9, 2008

last waltz

part din 'to ng RIBLO, may significance ito sa entry sa ibaba.

-ooo-

“No matter where you stand, the ground you walk on is our binding cord, the magic carpet of life. Someday, I will come to you and you alone, and say thank you for all that you have given me. With love, I will return.”

I walked slowly along the corridors, feeling very moment, just like I wouldn’t see this place again. I wasn’t alone, I knew, but I could see were mannequins belonging to the faceless crowd. It’s weird though, but they seemed to share the same sentiment, the same burden, and the same pain. Or, at some point, the same grief, engraved in their blank stares. I held the walls for support, thinking that I might regain the strength that had seemed dried out from me.

There were thousands of why’s and how’s that flooded my mind that day. Somehow, I didn’t notice that I was already standing at room 8. I reached for the doorknob and surprisingly, I felt cold against my hand amidst the scorching heat of the summer wave.

I felt that I needed to take all the air before I could enter the room as I told myself. This is her last day. “H-hi!” I smiled, bearing the biggest smile I could ever paste onto my face. I got so much to tell her that was all I was able to say as a big golf ball blocked the words down into my throat.

“Why so sad, mar? Did you miss me?” She whispered as she smiled, unable to speak louder because of the tube attached to her nose. It always surprised me how she could read my mind. I am not a good actor and she knew it. Instead of answering her, I busied myself arranging the flowers. I couldn’t bear to see her like that.

It’s been a month since Trina was diagnosed with cancer of the blood. Unfortunately, we had discovered it by accident. It was our anniversary then and we decided to celebrate it with non-profit organization of dancing enthusiasts where Trina was a member. We thought of it as an exciting experience since it was both our first time of sharing our own blood. I was talking to an old friend as she went to a medical assistant to have her blood test first. But when I got back to her, she just told me that she’s not feeling well.

“well, I just guess this blood-donating thing is not for me,” she smiled but I knew there was something wrong that I needed to know. And I was right.

“I-I’m sorry,” I said shakily as she opened the door of her apartment. I tried to be calm and strong for her but as soon as I saw her, it seemed that a floodgate was opened and the tears in our eyes never stopped falling as we cried in each others arms.

“Stop what you are doing, god damn it!” she yelled at me even she wasn’t supposed to. I stirred and turned to obey her. I sat by the hospital bed slowly but never raised my eyes to see her. I kept staring at the white sheets that covered half of her body and, of course, the different tubes that were attached to her only-God-knows part of her body.

I loved staring at her but this time was different. I took all the courage in me to lift my eyes for a moment just to see her eyes getting wet.

“It is alright, my angel. Soon you will find another dancing partner and ill see to it that she will be good enough to pit up with your both-left- feet” she laughed slightly. And the other moment, she put her hands to my chin and lifted it gently. It was supposed to be a joke and I could have laughed at it when done at normal circumstances. But the situation was away from normal. This time was entirely different.

When I met her eyes, there were shapeless emotions that until now I would never understand. “Hey, could you still remember when I taught you how to dance in college? And you not only passed your dancing class but got a 1 for it?” She uttered. Something stirred deep in my gut. Some unexplainable things were going to fly into my mouth and would make me cry. But I would not let it so; I needed to be strong for her. I would simply have to say, yes, so I nodded, fearing that I might cry aloud when I opened my mouth.

“that was the time I fell in-love the very first time? she said.

“Huh?” it was more of sound than word. “I said I loved you the first time I held you in my arms,” she said, raising her voice a little bit.

I wanted to keep looking at her because I never wanted to take my eyes away from her, even if it pained me a lot. But I couldn’t bear the honesty that was painted in her eyes. Another something stirred into my gut anew and I thought of taking my eyes away from her. But I breathed deeply and sighed, amazed by the courage I could show to the girl I’d love but who was just waiting for the slightest wind to put off her candle.

“I love you, so much,” I said as I smiled amidst the pain inside of my heart. I stroked her face gently. She held my hand softly as she kissed it gently.

“Always remember, that in every wind that touches your cheek is a kiss from me,” she said under her breath.

“Now, would you do me a favor?” from somewhere deep inside came a devastating urge to make me cry but I should not, I promised to be strong. I would merely nod to Trina- --an assurance that I would do anything just to make her happy even for her last day.

“Would you please hold me very tightly and dance with me” she asked. I held her hand tightly, which was so thin- far from the powerful hands that once belong to her-and gave it a little squeeze.

“No, mar,” she said, “really hold me, next to me.” I was very, very careful not to touch anything-the tubes and the kind. As I got onto the bed with her and put my arms around her. I held her arms and hummed our favorite song.

THANKS, MY ANGEL. I LOVE YOU.” Those were her last words. I walked slowly along the corridors, feeling every moment, just like I wouldn’t alone, I knew, but at that very instance, all I could see were mannequins, all I could see were to the faceless crowd. It’s weird though, but they seemed to share the same sentiment, the same burden, and the same pain. Or, at some point, the same grief, engraved in their blank stares. I held the walls for support, thinking that I might regain the strength that I had seemed dried out from me. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew from outside the building. I felt it stroke my face, my eyes, and my lips. I closed my eyes and felt a pair of lips kissed me. A realization snapped me back to reality.

“Always remember, that in every wind that touches your cheek is a kiss from me.” T-trina… I whispered to myself and as I reached the wall, dam of emotions poured. Barriers were broken. I cried.

12 komento:

UtakMunggo ayon kay ...

ano to non-fiction? tumayo balahibo ko ah.

ang lungkot naman.

KRIS JASPER VAN DYKE ayon kay ...

it's a sad short story. sad, but nicely written. I just hope it wont happen to me.

TENTAY™ ayon kay ...

huwaa ang lunkot naman... ayoko n ng love stories... apektado nanaman ako. =(

wanderingcommuter ayon kay ...

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luha ko yan pumapatak...

the donG ayon kay ...

that's sad but at least it's good to know that someone is there for her. true or untrue? everyone can learn something from this.

rowjie ayon kay ...

it's my first time here! thanks for droppin' by my blog. you write well... :)

Mahiwagang Sibuyas ayon kay ...

bawang, ako'y magpapaalam saglit. ngunit ako'y magbabalik din.
hanlupeeeeeeet nung last waltz mo.

Kaso dinugo ilong ko sa kaka-ingles mo dito. shyet. ;)

Steven ayon kay ...

syota ka ba ni sibuyas?

Abou ayon kay ...

me karugtong ba to?

he he, nabitin

kurisujae ayon kay ...

pare,ansakit!naiyak ako dun.

salamat nga pala sa pagbisita sakin.

add kita.

linapuhan ayon kay ...

mar nabasa ko na yata to eh, eto yata ang una kong nabasa sa blog mo, hehe

Lawstude ayon kay ...

they say fiction is a semblance of a writer's experience. ang ganda ng pagkakasulat mo, mukhang buhay na buhay ang lovelife mo to write such a painful love story.

keep it up.