Salt In The Wounds ✓

SITW 03

Months turned to a year. And from acquaintances, we turned to something though, without a label; I knew you also knew and felt it was something beyond friendship. And it wasn't some news to me that it was a terrifying thing for my vulnerability to allow.

It has only been a year since you broke up with your ex. Failed plans and dreams were still mouthed with sparkles by your eyes, your eyes that had never landed on me the way I landed mine on you. Memories remain fresh as those of blossoming flowers during the rainy days you wait to come. You await to come like how you seem to wait for your ex's return. Pictures and stuff you still keep, unable to let go of what you coin sentimental value, sentimental value that of you to me and probably never that of me to you. In your drunken dreams, as I lay you down on your bed, you'd say, where did you go wrong, as you call out for someone else's name. Someone else's name that how I wish was mine.

Barring all, I knew wearing your heart up my sleeve was worth all the swirls of aches because when I pine, there couldn't be many instances when you wouldn't shine even at the achiest times. And so, I had allowed the inevitable vulnerability to drag me to concede.

"Sakto, I haven't taken my dinner. Sabay na tayo," you told me when I dropped by your flat unannounced, bringing a liempo from Baliwag and several bottles of beer I'd knock to muster up some courage to confess.

"Why haven't you taken your dinner? Late na, ha? Kanina ka pa naman nakauwi from work. Wala ka na naman bang gana?"

You shrugged your shoulders as you gave me your usual watery smile.

Siya na naman.

As I entered your flat, the usual set of pictures of you and your ex displayed on the long table meters from your doorway welcomed me. As we turned to the left, by your living room, there were the scattered stuffed toys given their names by the person who left you. On our way to your dining, by the hallway across the restroom and bar area, canvases were hanging, paintings made by your used-to-be lover. Even the scent inside your flat was still vanilla which you told me was your ex's ever-favored cent.

Every single thing there is in your flat tells me I couldn't stand a chance.

"Hey, are you with me? Tulala ka na naman," you snapped me back to my senses.

I timidly forced a thin smile and pulled a chair at the dining. You had already set the table. I didn't know I consumed such a time drowning in the thoughts of you. "Sorry, you were saying?"

You clicked your tongue in dismay. "'Yan tayo, eh. Sinasarili mo kasi mga problema mo kahit pwede ka namang magsabi sa 'kin, natutulala ka na lang tuloy bigla madalas." You occupied the chair in front of me as you clasped your hands under your chin, your elbows resting on the table. "What's your problem? I've known you for a year, yet I only know a few things about you, which everyone else knew because they're nothing so confidential. What's the deal with you?"

"What's the deal with us?" I had said much to my itch to know what we are and what we could be, with no intoxications of the beers I bought to muster up my courage supposedly.

But then, your reaction handily loosened me up-you weren't any stupefied, judging by your uncircled eyes, ungapped mouth, and absence of swallowings of supposedly hard lumps by your throat.

Didn't you hear me? I thought as I bowed my head along with the dropping of my shoulders and tears. Talo na naman ako. Lagi na lang ba?

"Sorry...." I had only murmured, too weak to say it aloud. "I knew this would cause an askew on your bearing...but...you see...I simply wanted to know..... because for hardly a year....it had been....lurking inside my head....I had been....beseeching for an explanation.... because I had been clueless....of what our label could be....or if there actually were...At least...I know now....that there's none...That I was wrong....at sensing things....between us.....and that....they were just.....fragments....of my illusion...."

"You knew...I'm....not straight....that....-"

"You know I am as well...

"Then why me....?"

"I don't know why....neither did I know exactly how and when I fell for you.....It just happened...I just fell.....So hard...I minded not to restrain myself....and not to think that there might be....a must....for me to hold back...Neither did....infatuation ever cross my mind....."

"But I'm not yet over my ex. And I don't want to be unfair to you. I don't want you loving me while I am still busy stitching out my wounds caused by somebody else. I don't just pull someone in to be a mere patch to stop my bleeding wounds. Hindi ako gano'n. Hindi ka pang gano'n lang."

"No...no...no....." I repeatedly mumbled. My sobbing turned to a howl. "I could...go through....all your shits...if you'd allow me to....just....let me....take.....whatever....you could give...."

You walked to my side and dried off my non-finishing tears. "If only I could...I would....kasi kung....dumating....'yong oras na....pwede....na...na kaya ko na.... ulit...magmahal....ikaw...at ikaw....'yong pipiliin ko...Pero...pasensya na....hindi pa 'yon ngayon....."

"Please....kaya ko...Kahit mahirap....Kahit matagal...." I clasped your hands in mine and rained them with kisses wetted by my tears. "Hindi....ako....magrereklamo....please....just take me...in...please...."

"I'm so sorry.....Please.....don't make this...hard....for me too....let's not....add up salt....in our wounds....we've already had....so much...."