2011-02-06 - 8:08 p.m.
"I've got to go."
"Aww, stay."
"No, seriously. I've got to go. Sorry."
"Awww, I'm heartbroken."
"No, you're not. You're fine. What are you talking about? You don't even need me. You've got her."
--- // ---
"I think Joza misses you."
"Really?" I said as nonchalant as I could. The curly-haired Rimoy eyed me suspiciously. "How come? I'm still around. We're still in the same film club."
"He looked so sad when he saw you talking to Narco," she explained. "I don't get it. You two had been very close - almost inseparable - last semester. Now it looks as if you're avoiding him."
"Look, I'm not avoiding him or anybody, okay?" I was annoyed. "It's not like he can't talk to me anymore. I'm still around. Why do I always have to be the first reaching out to people?"
"And I can tell you've been missing him too." So much for joining the high school theatre club. I was still a terrible actress. "In fact, more. You love him."
It doesn't always take a psychic to read me well. All they have to do is look deeper, and my face shall be a dead giveaway.
"I wish I never did."
"Why?" Now Rimoy looked worried. "That's okay. That's normal."
"As normal as it seems, I still can't accept it." I glared hard at her, gritting my teeth. An imaginary sharp claws started digging out from inside my brain. "I've never asked for any of this. Something like this can ruin a good friendship, so that's why I have to stay the hell away from him. Can't you see? In order to stay sane and sober and feel normal around him - I'm not supposed to have any of these feelings! This isn't even his fault, I know."
She was shocked. I rarely yell at people, even when I'm boiling inside. (That's how I've become a human time bomb.)
"Sorry, Moy."
"Why?"
"Why?" I'd wanted to laugh. "I don't want him to notice the sadness in my eyes. I don't want him to know the reason behind it. It's not fair for him! He deserves to be happy with anybody he loves!"
"So do you," she added quietly. "I can see it's slowly killing you."
"I just want this to go away." I sighed. "This has to go away, so I can just look at him again without having any of these absurd feelings. Like any other real friend should!"
"From where I can see it, I think you've done all that you could - both for his sake and yours." She gave me a warm smile. "Now all you can do is wait. Let God take you to the right direction as always. Only time can tell and it will."
"Right." I agreed and nodded.
Rimoy said no more. She just laid an arm around my shaky shoulders, waiting until I stopped shivering. Two curly-haired college girls sat in the corner of the building on a regular afternoon.
--- // ---
"I know why you like listening to rock and heavy metal."
"Why is that?"
"You're suppressing something in you."
"Shut up, Dave."
"But it's true, isn't it?"
--- // ---
"There, there." Pumpkin gently stroked my long, rebelliously curly hair. He was sitting on the floor, while I was lying on his bed - wiping my eyes. "It's going to be alright. You'll see."
"I've never asked for any of this." I looked at him solemnly. "Still I can't make it go away."
"I know it's never really easy."
"I wish I never loved him." I tightly shut my eyes, but that face just wouldn't go away. That hurt like hell, the way Eowyn feels about Aragorn. "I don't ever want to fall in love again, if it only and always ends up this way."
"No, no, no. Sssh." He shook his head and stroked my hair again. "You know you don't really mean that. You just can't stand the pain, that's all. Give yourself a break. You need that. You deserve that."
"I can't make the pain go away as quickly as I want it to!"
"Soon, my dear, soon," he promised. "Soon the pain will go away, even before you realize it. Remember, with every dark cloud - comes a silver lining."
I got up and sat facing him. I gave a half-grin and said, "So much for a tomboy, eh?"
"Not really." He shrugged. "We're still living proofs of a world turned upside down."
"Hey, I still like guys!" We both cracked up laughing. He was wearing a skin-tight pink tee, compared too my oversized black one.
"Like what I've always told you, you're still lucky," Pumpkin added with a sad smile. "Nobody's ever condemning you for loving a man. In your case, it's always considered normal."
"I know." I nodded slowly. "Even if none of them ever really sees me."
"It takes an extraordinary man to notice someone like you," he told me gently. "Don't get me wrong, girl; you're not that bad. It's just...well, not everyone is born to be the centre of the major attention. From what I've seen, it would be too overwhelming for you. I know you. You're not that kind of girl. You're different. You don't need their admiring eyes to make you exist and feel alive. You're brave and independent."
I smiled weakly. "Well, even Miss Independent is still a normal girl who needs love."
"And she will find that," he assured me. "When she does, she'll show the world what a wonderful man he is. He'll be her truest friend for life, because that's what she deserves and he loves her like he means every word of it. He loves her for her."
"Oh, dear." I'd wanted to cry again. "Why can't a straight guy say that to me?"
He grinned. "Maybe they're not the right straight guys for this line," he reasoned. "The good thing about facing a lot of painful rejections is that when the right one comes along and stays just for you, you won't take him for granted. I know you won't. I have faith in you."
"Thanks, but what if he goes away again - just like all the guys I've ever loved before?" I challenged him. The same old question. "Or worse, what if he never exists?"
"Existed," he corrected. Then he offered, "We still have our back-up plan."
"Run away to either Paris or New York together." I remembered with a laugh. "Share a flat, live like Will and Grace."
"You can be a best-selling novelist while I'll be a fabulous fashion designer," he added excitedly. Then he suddenly asked, "May I bring boyfriends home?"
"No way!"
"Why not?"
"If one of them is a bi and attracted to me too, that might be trouble."
"With those icky washed-out jeans?" He pointed at my legs. "I highly doubt it."
"Shut up." He laughed as I hugged him close. "Oh, Pumpkin. What would I do without you?"
"The same as always," he said. "Survive like all independent women do."
"You've been listening to Destiny's Child too much, but I get your point. Thank you."
"Anytime, girlfriend. Anytime."
--- // ---
Some people say we dream about seven times in our sleep. However, before we wake up, we can only remember the last one. I don't know if that theory is true, because my experience is rather weird.
How about dreams that show flashbacks? Those previous four came up to me one night. They came like separate frames slightly dissolved into one disorder roll in my mind's eye.
"Look, you don't have to wait here anymore. He's not coming back."
That was the line I remember most from "Hachiko: A Dog's Story" (the US version with Richard Gere in it.) I first heard the true story from an old childhood friend. It happened in Japan and the bronze statue of that legendary loyal Akita dog to its master is still at Shibuya train station.
Seriously, I couldn't stop crying when I finally watched that. Poor Dad.:( Mom had to calm him down for a while. She was crying too, btw.
That movie was very, very sad. Awfully sad that when I looked at my reflection in the mirror, my face was red and splotchy. My eyes were badly bloodshot. The lids were swollen too. Yuck. It looked as if I hadn't cried in a very long time. I looked freaky.
Then I woke up with a terrible headache that wouldn't go away. No aspirins left in the cabinet. Great. There are always much bigger and more serious issues to deal with in the real world, so I often shove mine back into the shelves inside my head. Sometimes it's a good idea, sometimes it's a bad habit. Typical old me.
Too bad the ladies and I had to cancel our trip to see "The CSI Experience". Most of us are broke, and it's still early February. Next time? I hope so.
Pumpkin, if you saw me now, would you feel disappointed? I know I do. I know you'd tell me not to be too hard on myself. I'm not always brave and strong. I'm not always right and wrong. I'm sometimes in between. I'm sorry I can't be perfect. I'm sorry I can't be their version of 'normal'.
I can only be me, with all the good and bad in it. I can't promise that people will always like what I do. I can't promise that they won't get hurt by being around me.
I think I'm going to find the old me I have lost, long before love distracted me and ruined everything. I'm better off that way. I need a long break from getting too absorbed into other people's problems. I need to take care of myself too. Until the day God proves me wrong about how love only hurts me in the end, that's what I'm doing for now.
And I'm still working on it...
The Author/SBF/QB
