Reminiscence: From Me To You

Pahina 82

82:

Nanatili akong tahimik at inintay ang kasunod na sasabihin niya pero wala akong narinig na tinig kaya't kahit may pag-aalinlangan ay nilingon ko siya. Napalunok ako saglit noong makita ko ang hitsura niya.

He was looking at the night sky while tears were slowly... falling down from his eyes.

It was supposed to look painful and... sad. But it didn't look like that at all. It was stunning. It seemed like he's glowing, and sparkling. It suddenly seemed like he was unreachable.

Pakiramdam ko naubusan ako nang hininga noong saglit na iyon kaya't mabilis kong winaglit ang pagkakatingin sa kaniya. Hindi ko malaman kung alin ang iisipin ko, pero isa ang sigurado. Hindi na mawala wala ang imahe niyang iyon sa utak ko.

"I miss you so much, Mom." It heard his heart breaking when he stated that.

Para siyang bata na nagsusumamo na gusto nang makita muli ang pinakamamahal niyang Ina. Para siyang bata na gustong lamang sumaya.

Natatakot akong tumingin ngayon sa kaniya sa totoo lang. Nalaglag na nga ako hindi na? Pero bakit parang mas lumalalim pa iyong pagkakalaglag ko? I thought I already reached the bottom, but I was wrong... he was making me fall for him, so hard...

...that I was slowly thinking... I didn't want to be save at all.

It was all wrong. I wanted to rise from this fall because I know I'd be hurt and all, but why? Bakit parang ayoko? Bakit parang... kahit may sakit ang madadama ko, tanggap ko na?

When did I fall for him this hard? When did my heart accept everything even the worst of it? This man was just so dangerous for my own good, but the danger didn't stop me it just made me more curious and it made me go for more.

"Maybe..." I started quietly. "Your mom, misses you too." I added softly.

"Hopefully." He replied with a voice full of hope, and full of emotion.

"Who you are... is never what you've been." Mahinang sambit ko habang nakatingin sa langit. Ang tanging sagot niya ay ang malalim na paghinga.

"It was then... I was painting the portrait of my mom, how old was I? Eleven, twelve? We always have that time where we'd be together at the painting room, and we would just sit there in full silence, while painting the things we like." Nagsimula na siyang magkwento, naging atentibo ako sa pakikinig.

"I would paint her while she was painting... it was the most beautiful scene my eyes ever laid on, she was sitting there peacefully doing the thing she loved the most. Her image was so serene... it was just so pure..."

Para pala talaga siyang Ina niya. Inosente sa paraang hindi mo maipapaliwanag. At tila may kakaibang mahika ang nakabalot sa kanila kapag ginawa nila ang gusto nila. I could imagine how tranquil and unperturbed she was while moving her paint brush with grace.

"But... that image slowly became dark in my eyes." He stated inconsolably.

"Why..." Halos pabulong na sambit ko. Why did the graceful art became somehow... an abstract canvas?

"Hindi ko matandaan kung saan nagsimula ang lahat..." Nasasaktang imik niya. "Pero... ang alam ko bigla na lamang nawala si Mom sa kinauupuan niya sa painting room." Dagdag niya.

"She just disappeared suddenly. I couldn't even paint her portrait fully." Bakas na bakas sa tinig niya ang matinding panghihinayang.

"Nauwi pa naman siya sa bahay pero parang biglang may kakaiba. Her bright radiance went to a gloomy aura. Palagi niya akong hindi kinakausap, pati si Dad, mukhang palagi silang may pagtatalo." Hindi ko alam pero sa sinabi niyang iyon sumikip ang dibdib ko.