Fateful

“If there was a chance that we could be lovers
I’d write you a book of handwritten letters
And burn them all up to the end
Just to start over again

If there was a chance that we could be lovers

I’d learn how to dance, how to hold without touching
Oh, love, where have you been?
I’ll wait for your lead to come in

If there was a chance that we could be lovers
I’d swim seven oceans and keep going further
I’d hold my breath until you slipped
Those words that belong on your lips

Say a lie
It could be anything
Just stay with me tonight

So tell me the secret
Is there a way into your heart?
‘Cause I want to believe it
Or will I be wishing until the last falling star?”

“A defeat can only be defined as one when even the soldier itself has lost hope. In love, hope is always present, the by-product of the phenomena. We all love to hope for that one special person, yet sadly, hope really isn’t enough, us soldiers also need courage to make the first leap.”

“Is it wrong to wait someone who’s long gone? To wait for that one special moment even if its occurrence isn’t assured? Or would it fall under the category of truth; the ability to keep honest with one’s own feelings?”

” A sacrifice is defined as an act that deals with a loss and a gain. TRUE love isn’t a sacrifice, nor would it require a sacrifice, for love never takes nor gives. It simply is a complete surrender, a commitment of one’s whole existence for that ONE person, wherein neither loses nor gains, but rather both are complemented, made whole by each other’s presence. “

“Love, an illusion so vivid, that for a moment, I believed it to be real.”

“I guess my vocabulary doesn’t have enough artillery to describe how much I love her…”

In forgetting her, I failed, am failing, and will continue to fail. Truth be told, I only fail because I choose to.

Me.

I’m a junior, studying Psychology. Silent, I see words as utilities to be used only when necessary.  Proud, I see meekness as a byproduct of pride, for being shy means having the fear of being rejected, I have not that fear. Passionate, I believe that love is never a sacrifice, for any actions done in the name of love would never reflect a gain or a loss. Courageous, for I believe that hope is only a thought, and that it needs courage for it to blossom into a reality. Opportunistic, for I believe that dreams are never spoon-fed, yet opportunities are. A student, for I am aware that there is an endless road of knowledge waiting for me.

Four years ago, I met this girl, and instantly fell in love. She made my life spin around, turned all of my views in life upside-down, in a good way, of course. I’d like to believe that I also did the same for her. We lasted for three years, and three months, broke up because of accumulated problems, infidelity and distrust in each other. I learned a lot from that relationship. A view on love that I had not entertained ever since my first girlfriend: “true love”; and it was the best lesson I ever learned.

There are many kinds of love; a trick is if you’d add an adjective before the word ‘love’, you’ll get an endless query on the kinds of love; one for each adjective in the dictionary, but as I’ve learned, only one adjective made the real difference: “true”, for love may come in many forms, yet its truth can never be manipulated. Love knows no boundaries. It can manifest itself whenever it wanted to, to whomever, however it was inclined to. Yet, we truly never know why.

But that is now. Back then,I had a gang with a bunch of thin, underfed high-school students, and yes, that would mean I was one of those thin underfed kids. But we were a team of untouchable thin kids; we got into fights a lot, brawls, and so much more. Though this may sound a bit weird, I never regretted being a part of that group. It helped me learn the value of keeping those who matter to me. And though our gang is gone, we’d still meet up, yet, the only difference now was that we wouldn’t get down and dirty like the last times, but we’d just enjoy each other’s company, and share stories.

This is one of my stories.

Last year, I won the department pageant. It entitled me to privileges like walking down the college wing with my held up high, with a thought in my mind that, hey, I’m the most handsome man ‘round here, and oh, it also entitled me to join contests outside our university, to have the chance to represent my university. Did I mention that I was kidding about the first privilege? Seriously, winning had its benefits; pride, confidence, and friends.

I was a part of the department organization on my first year in college, but sadly, back then I was too young to realize its value, so on my 3 month mark, I started to become inactive; an error I wanted to change this year. As a junior, I knew perfectly well now, that I can and should be able to serve my department and its students. Good thing one of my best friends, Ronald, was the vice president of our organization. This served as my push to make peace with my guilt about leaving the organization two years ago.

I was given a position as a volunteer, it was a start, I told myself.

Though my position really isn’t that well-decorated, I made sure of it that I was inside every committee of every activity the organization offered. This paved my way into making a name inside the department. I didn’t want to be labeled as the campus “pagenero” as they liked to call it, in other words, a guy who always joins pageants. Though it was partly true, I want to be known for something a lot more than that, I want to be known for the service I was able to provide to my department.

The department of Psychology is located in the 6^th floor of our university, with all the psychology students’ rooms in one wing. This made reaching out to the students a lot easier, sometimes, me and my closest co-officers from the org would just enter a room of students and share stories, but of course, only after all the work has been done. We also had this small office; it was a perfect home in school. It was complete, with a fan, sleeping bag, and a pillow. This was where I spend most of my time in, I’d sleep, study, write, and talk here. The office has always been crowded, it served as a home not only for us officers, but also to the students we serve.

The second semester has just started, and the school activities were at an all time-low. It was the time of the year where the whole university was quiet; some professors would still be in the provinces, resulting in an unwritten week-long extension of the sem-break. We decided to use this ‘break’ to clean up the office, since the sem-break invited dust and cobwebs to the office.

“Yel, intercollegiate na.” Michael told me as he was reading a message from his phone. He had a big smile on his face. Maybe because he was the external vice-president and this was an external affair, the first external affair of the year, in fact. It was an invitational event, with different contests, quiz bees, arts, literature and the like. The pageant was the event I was going to join in. The thought of it excited my senses. Yet, the golden story behind this was my innocence on what I was really entering myself into.

“They say that when you meet the love of your life, time would stop. It did, for me, and I succumbed to her haunting beauty. It was at that moment that I knew, I’d never look at anything the same way again, and that seeing the whole world wouldn’t be enough to match the ecstasy I felt upon her sight.”

The day for the pictorial was upon us, and we were asked to bring a casual set of clothes. Me and my friends shared a black long-sleeved shirt, which was originally owned by Michael, he was the veteran when it came to pageants, and I was only following his footsteps. So for good measure, I decided to use that shirt for good luck. I ironed the shirt and hung it up the closet neatly; don’t want to do any more ironing in the morning. For the pants, I decided to go with the white jeans I had, the jeans I last wore during the casual wear segment in the pageant last year. It was already ironed, so I moved on to packing my stuff.

As I was checking my things, I managed to catch a glimpse of the mirror. Who would’ve thought that the scrawny little kid would eventually grow up to be like this? I was proud of who I was. It was a virtue I’ve always had, bravado; the source of my energy, my confidence, my smile. I started to evaluate how I looked in the mirror; my hair was fine; it was long, with the tips stretching in a real unorganized manner. My bangs were brushed to one side, not so formal but not so emo as well. I had a half-shaved ‘stache, suggesting a ruggedness I’ve always wished I had.

                I was prepared.

                I turned on my music player, played a few tunes from my favorite band. This was a routine I did every night. I had trouble sleeping, so I turn to musical measures, to somehow lay me to sleep. I enjoy music with metaphorical lyrics, those types of songs that made me think before I get the true meaning of the words. My measure for a good song would be a song with a different story from each person whoever hears it. For example, one of my best friends, Allister, we share the same love for a band, and sometimes, we’d discuss a song of theirs, and it would turn up as a love song for him, when for me, it’d be a heartbreak song. Those kinds of songs are the ones who never die, for they offer endless possibilities of endless stories.

                I received a message just before I felt my eyes closing, “Damn,” I was that close to getting sleep.

                “Yel, bukas 9 ng umaga ah.” It was Michael, reminding me about the meeting time tomorrow.

                Michael was also one of my closest friends, and our friendship was actually like those of late-blooming flowers. For about two years we’d just bump into each other in the corridors and exchange hellos. The first time I actually met him was when he was a candidate for the department pageant, and I had a crush on one of his co-candidates. Allister knew him then, so he asked Michael to introduce me to the girl I had a crush on. Back then, Michael was a macho guy, the type with the bulging biceps and broad shoulders. He always wore his shirts with collar opened, but what he distinguished him from the other faces of the crowd were his glasses. Now, Michael still wears his glasses, still has the broad shoulders and the bulging biceps, and plus, he now has a slightly enlarged belly.

                My mind started wandering again; it was fun to reminisce the faces of the past, and seeing how they look today. I had four best friends, Allister, Ronald, Erwin and Lee. Allister was the type who had the most convincing powers in our group, back then, we called him ‘ab’ because of the one piece of ‘ab’ that he had, in short, it was a big belly, and he had this pimply face as well. But now, he was more muscular, and his face was cleaned as well.

                Ronald is the most driven among us, being the vice-president of the department org, he’s always been considered as the leader of our group. Back then, he wore his hair long, with the back part extended; now he had the casual clean cut.

                Erwin was the youngest in our group, in age and in spirit. He was the smart-ass of our group, and I mean that in a good way. Being a dancer, (and a good one at that) he always liked shirts that was slightly larger than others, with the sleeves extending over the elbows, but now, he enjoyed wearing more casual shirts, and boy was he a chick magnet.

                Lee is the type of guy who’d gel with any people, he always wore a stoic appearance, but in truth, despite of his macho figure, he was the complete opposite of what he portrayed to the public eye. I know this because the things we hear from the psych community, saying that Lee was the hardest to approach among the five of us. If they only knew how he really is, they’d bite their tongues. If Erwin was a chick magnet, Lee would be a planet with a very strong gravitational pull to attract chicks.

                I laughed and scoffed with every thought and story I recalled about the five of us. Soon enough, I felt my eyelids starting to gain weight.

                Tomorrow was a big day, the pictorial, and also a screening for another event I was joining in. I slept with a certainty that everything would go according to plan. I was prepared, after all.

I woke up from a dream about hills and candies, a reoccurring dream of mine. It was already 8am, and I had to meet Michael at 9am. I hurried my bath, didn’t eat and rushed out the door.

I sometimes ride the ferry to school, though the stench of the river was unbearable, the convenience was incomparable, an hour and a half to school, inside an air-conditioned ferry, what more could I ask for? Plus, it gave me ample time to prepare for school, time for assignments, or simply just daydreaming. For so often I’d just stare blankly at the windows and watch how I sail through these landscapes. There was one station where there’d always be birds that fly in a unison pattern. I’ve always wondered what it felt like to fly, and soar. But that is cliché, truth is, I’ve also always wondered why they were always there. Were they waiting for something? What gives them strength in their wait?

Thinking always made my time fly. Soon enough I was already at the school station. It was roughly 9:30 am, I decided to buy Michael a burger so as to pay as an incentive for being late.

I reached our org office right on time, and Michael wasn’t there yet. I’ve always had a knack on keeping in time, I seldom get late for any occasions. Guess it was a lesson learned well from my previous alma mater; I studied at a private school from elementary to secondary education. Punctuality was a big necessity back then, and a single second late would be regretted for more than it was worth, and for how long Michael was late, he would’ve regretted a lifetime.

Another one of my classmates, Joiz, showed up soon enough. She had the sando and jeans look she always wore, her hair was as fluffy as ever.

“Wala pa si Michael no?” she asked with her somewhat childish voice, as if she knew all along that Michael would be late. I just nodded a reply.

 She was also a representative for the pageant. This was good because now, I had someone to talk to. Joiz was Michael’s partner in the last intercollegiate pageant, where they both won the titles. Back then, I was just one of the audience, and even a part of Joiz’s talent. I portrayed a role of a gay dude, as a request from Joiz in her talent. That was probably the most embarrassing moment of my life, yet it was also the most fun I had.

I had to be forever grateful for that day. I would’ve never been who I was today if it weren’t for that fateful day. As I can recall, it happened backstage, as I as waiting for Joiz’s turn for the talent segment, the pageant director told me to join the department pageant, he told me I could win it. As it turned out, he would also be directing our department pageant, and I did win.

Michael soon came up, sweating as if he was running from the gates of hell. I had to stop myself from laughing, since it dawned to me that his climb up to the 6^th floor wasn’t necessary, since we were going downstairs anyway, how can we commute if we’re upstairs right? Laughs, well, he needed that run anyway, he was gaining weight. His hair wasn’t messed up at all, so you wouldn’t guess that he was tired from running up. He wore his checkered long sleeves that somehow hid his enlarging belly. “Camouflage shirts” as we liked to call it.

We let him rest for a while, but when it was time to go, I just put my hand on Michael’s shoulder as we walked slowly downstairs.

It made me excited to have trips like these, outside of the school trips to be exact. As I walked to the gates, I let my eyes wander around the campus; the university was beautiful today, clean, quiet, and so serene. The trees were swaying to the hushes of the wind. There were few students wandering about, most of them couples taking advantage of the extended ‘break’. It was the perfect day to skulk around. On normal occasions, I would have chosen to stay at the campus. But this wasn’t an ordinary day.

I remember the jeepney ride we had, Michael and Joiz were talking to each other as I just kept quiet to myself. They were both talking about the previous pageant they won, because they really didn’t have time to talk about it, since they weren’t classmates. As they were reminiscing on their pasts, I looked to my future. The competition made me excited, I wanted to see them, and it made me anxious whenever the thought of the competition visited my mind. I wanted it to begin, right now.

We reached the destination an hour late. The organizers told us to wait for them around 10am, it was already 11, and they still weren’t here, man, was I the only person on earth who pays attention to time? At least they made us wait at a fast food resto, when I realized where we were, my stomach made its demands, it dawned to me that I haven’t had a bite to eat yet. The two of them went upstairs to wait, as I waited in line to buy something to eat. Soon enough, I was eating upstairs with the two of them.

A few bites went by before a gay dude showed up. The alerted reaction of Michael told me that this was the guy we were waiting for.

“Finally” — the best word to describe the events that would take place next.

“Bravado” - a swaggering show of courage. Gone.

                The gay dude was wearing their department shirt, it was violet with a lot of arrows, and the back of the short read “We’ll tell you who you are”, that was wrong, we don’t tell people who they are, though we can figure out people’s situations, types or illnesses, we have no power to tell people who they are. I just snickered to prevent myself from making a remark.

                “Sorry, natagalan kami.” The gay dude said. His name was Gerald, and he was an officer from the host school’s org. “Yung candidate kasi namin sinundo ko rin. Paakyat na rin yun”

                Gerald sat beside me, it didn’t bother me at first, but when I noticed his occasional glances at me, the kind of glance that gay dudes do sometimes, let’s just say that I decided to focus myself more on eating. The chicken was marvelous, I couldn’t distinguish if it were just the hunger I felt that made the dish more tasteful, nonetheless, it was grand, a meal worth remembering. As the two officers made small talk, I was already finishing up my dish.

                What happened next caught me by surprise.

                They say that when you meet the love of your life for the first time, time itself would stop, it did. For a brief moment, all the noise, all the people, all of their voices, they disappeared. 

                Everything was quiet.

                She was wearing a gray jacket over a white top and cream-colored jeans, and a hat like those of sophisticated people always wear. Her hair was like caramel, her lips pursed, her eyes kinda sleepy, yet were still beautiful, and her skin was like a fragile piece of glass. She walked into the room with an aura of strength, and at the same time, drowsiness.

                She was breathtakingly beautiful.

                “Kagigising lang nyan.” I could hear Gerald saying inaudibly.

                The room lit up upon her presence, I couldn’t remember if she was walking slowly or was my comprehension of the events made my perceptions turn to slow motion, it was like a scene taken from the movies, where the leading lady walks into the room, and just one person was taking notice, the hero, the leading man. Nothing else made sense; it was as if everything was made irrelevant by this girl, who was she? Ordinarily in these situations, I’d have my bravado get a hold of me; make me ask the girl’s name, then poof! I’d have the answer.

But she wasn’t even close to being ordinary.

                I decided to give in, to surrender. Helpless, the first time I felt this feeling for so long.

                It was enough to just sit there and marvel at her endless beauty. 

                “Finally.”

                I was nudged in the elbow by Michael.

                “Hoy” he said. “tara na.”

                Was I really that inattentive to the situation? She really made me lose my senses, I looked back at her, she was already turning away, as an impulse; I followed. She had me curious, who was she?

                “Ganda pre.” I told Michael as we walked to the studio.

                “Sakto lang naman, talo ni Joizy yan.” He replied.

                That was the time I remembered that we were on our way for a pictorial for the pageant, I forgot. I decided to keep myself steady; I was in it to win it. I didn’t have any time for anything else. I must be focused. I kept walking with my head held high, trying to keep my thoughts busy with the pageant, with how I was going to do my pose, things like that, just to keep my attention away from the girl in front of me.

                “She smiles beautifully.” I thought, as I saw her smiling at Gerald.

                Great, so much for focus.

                We reached the studio in a matter of minutes; we waited inside the lobby for our turn. Michael was then summoned after a while.

                “Mr. PUP upo ka na po dito.” One of the organizers said. Michael and I exchanged confused looks, and laughed.

                “Ako po yung candidate.” I said with a wry smile, the organizer just smiled back shyly.

                I take pride in how I look. I’ve always had a mirror inside my pocket, just to check from time to time, was there a smudge on my face? How ‘bout a red mark? I was kinda o-c on those kinds of things. That’s why I couldn’t help but stare at the mirror when we reached the studio. This was something that could keep me busy, stare at the mirror, and stare at the mirror. The studio was basically a room of mirrors, and gay make-up dudes. There was a set of clothes ready behind me, maybe for the candidate next to me. I had better clothes than that. The guy beside me was a tall guy, thin, with a bumpy face (he had little pimples on his cheeks) “Check.” I knew instantly that I could take this guy on.

                I surveyed the room for the other candidates.

                I was doing fine until I saw the girl, then my mind wandered off again.

                She was (if I remember correctly) two stations away from me, getting her hair done. Everything was fine (if ‘fine’ meant being speechless for about two hours). I decided to just keep quiet, so as to not draw attention to myself, and the girl to my left. But I couldn’t help it. I had to.

                I would occasionally take an easy glance to my left.

                WHAT’S NEXT?!

                I was at a moot point. A simple “Hi” will do, but it wasn’t that simple to do, it was complicated as hell. The bravado was gone, my bravado was gone, gone the second she walked into my life. I wasn’t myself. This is bad. Furthermore, I didn’t even know what I was doing in the studio anymore. Why was I here, because it seems as if I was only here to pay witness to the eternal beauty next to me.

                “Yuck.” a voice said.

                I glanced to the left; there she was, with her caramel hair fixed, her haunting eyes staring at me…with disgust.

                SHIT. Panicked, I tried desperately to look in the mirror for the reason of this unpleasant remark.

                Nothing.

                “Di ka man lang nag-ahit, alam mo namang pictorial ngayon, eew ka.”

                Her words had conviction, and up till now, I can still feel the chill I felt when I heard her words.

                I tried to force a smile upon my face, yet I think, I failed with that as well. I needed to get a shave. Quick.

“The winner of the race is never determined by who finishes first, instead, it is truly determined by what the person gets after the finish line, the accumulation of what he picked up along the way, and what is waiting for him on the other end.”

I won.

Cheers, shouts, celebration, everything was bright. 

As I walked up to the front of the stage, I saw each and every one of the people within the vicinity. It’s funny, how you can see all these people smiling at you, yet all you really wanted to see was that one special smile.

Where was the caramel hair, the blue eyelids, the haunting smile? I wanted to find her. I really wanted to.

As I was taking my steps, I looked to the left, there she was, there it was, the smile. I didn’t have the courage to smile back, so I looked away, wearing a smile I’ll never forget, because of a smile I’ll never forget.

The flashes of the cameras were blinding me. I wanted to see her, look at her, wonder in amazement of her eternal beauty, and so I did, even with my blinded eyes, when she wasn’t looking.

The voices subsided, everything was quiet once again.

From the stage, I saw the emptying hall, and soon enough, her, taking pictures. Boy, I wanted so much to have a picture with her. I looked back at my friends, our organization won the second placer in the overall intercollegiate event. Cheers. 

I looked back at where she was. She wasn’t there anymore.

She was walking away.

“Could I really let this woman walk out of my life?”

Thinking was a waste of time, she was gone before I even answered my question.

“Of course I can’t, I won’t let her walk away.”

But she already did.

She was the perfect example of “the one that got away”.

I wanted to find her, I wanted to find her every single day of my life.Impossible right? For me, it wasn’t. Yet, the prominence of the possibility of a phenomenon doesn’t mirror its occurrence. 

But still, it was clear, everything made sense. I was truly prepared, at last. I knew right then, that I was prepared and willing to do anything to find her… 

I had to.

The scent of victory wasn’t complete…

without her…

so I lost…

and am lost.

“I had to take all the chances in front of me. In this case, there was only one option. I had to see her.”

It took me a little time before I finally mustered up the courage to send a message.

“Congrats!” 

But before that, I think it was a week, a week of endless slumber, of exhaustion. I was very tired, for there was another competition I was in. It was taking all my strength, literally. I knew I had to finish this first before I take a chance with her. I didn’t want her to see me like this.

But chances never wait.

The moment I figured this out, I was already making a plan on what to tell her, what message would imply that I was breezy? That I was calm? That I wasn’t as nervous as hell. No message could ever shadow the fact that I was trembling in anticipation of what she may reply…

…she replied with a “thank you.”

From that moment on, I grabbed all the chances I had, the spare time I had wasn’t spare anymore, for I gave it to her. I dedicated my time to get to know her, and it was the most thrilling experience, knowing day by day, a little more about this person, and in return, letting her know more about me. 

I was in bliss.

I did find her. Now I had to make her believe.

I asked her out. Told her that I wanted to take a chance.

“Are you really sure? Wala kang assurance sa mga pwedeng mangyari.”

For every step I take, she takes a step back.

Of course I was sure. I wanted to be with her. I’m sure of it.