Monday, January 15, 2007
scribbled by anna katrina
12:56 AM | 0 comments
12:56 AM | 0 comments
Another passerby
There is a time for departure even when there's no certain place to go. - Tenessee Williams
I saw him today. =)
I haven't seen him in weeks - not since the day he summoned us to talk about something important. I missed him terribly, but I knew that time was way too much to ask, considering how busy we both were. Sure, I would see him once in a while, but definitely unlike before when everything - every activity, every bonding - was all about him.
On that day when we last saw each other, and when everybody else was gone, I decided to tell him about my latest predicament. He was, after all, one of the few people I trusted with my emo-stories and secrets. I'd say our conversation lasted for about ten minutes - that was when I was driving him home. He listened to me, and asked me random questions. I answered him truthfully, just like the old times.
He was never the type who would comfort you and tell you that things will be ok. Always frank, and a borderline know-it-all, he pretty much told me that I deserved the problem and gave me a lecture (well, more like advised me) to not make the same mistake again. Other people who didn't know him well would, I guess, be slightly offended. I, on the other hand, just smiled and acknowledged what he had to say. This was definitely one of the reasons why I liked him so much.
I was hoping the drive would last longer, but his place was too near, and there was barely traffic. He told me he'd want to talk more soon, but I knew he was just being polite. Well, even if he really meant it, I knew for a fact that he was as busy as I was, and we had no means of communication - except if someone would bump into me accidentally and would tell me where he was.
The truth is, I didn't want to expect. I had too much of that from him in the past.
But I saw him today - somewhere I never expected he'd be. He was as handsome, and as stern-looking. He didn't notice me at first - to my advantage, because I had a little moment of just 'staring' at him.
Finally, I was able to mutter a 'hi'. He looked up and his face brightened as he greeted me with a surprised, yet sincere smile. I used to have these smiles all the time.
He asked me what I was doing there, and I told him that this was pretty much the place where I usually sought peace of mind and drowned my thoughts in the silence.
I sat down in front of him, and started a little chat, which ended after a few minutes. He resumed what he was doing, and I started to read Timothy Montes' Vic Pura. Could there be a more perfect story to have at that very moment?
I kept glancing at him, obviously unable to concentrate on the story (note to self: read it again.)
I remember when we were always together - of course, we would be louder than we were right now. I always thought of him as the leader, followed his every command, even if he didn't require me to. I figured it would be the best way to spend more time with him - I was always happy when he was there.
Gradually, I started feeling something else - something which I denied at first, a feeling that I never wanted and dangerously the one thing that could destroy everything we have built.
For so long I struggled against the emotion, almost begging for it to go away. I was starting to do things I would never do before. I was giving up, succumbing to whatever that was that drew me to him more and more.
It was a one-way traffic thing, as my friends used to say. It was crazy, and hell, umpossible. So I did what I had to do. I detached myself. I led myself into thinking that forgetting him was the best thing to do, even if it meant going away. It was a decision I had to make. And I did.
"I have to go," he said, as he picked up his things hurriedly.
"Ah, ok. Bye," I replied softly.
"See you around then." He answered back, and gave me another hearty smile.
I followed him with my gaze, and heaved a sigh. I wondered what it would have been like if I stayed close to him, or if I gave in to the feeling I once had. Would it have hurt more than it did when I left? But I knew it was too late to be trying to analyze things.
I pretended to read again, drowning myself in stories that temporarily colored my world.
I saw him today. =)
I haven't seen him in weeks - not since the day he summoned us to talk about something important. I missed him terribly, but I knew that time was way too much to ask, considering how busy we both were. Sure, I would see him once in a while, but definitely unlike before when everything - every activity, every bonding - was all about him.
On that day when we last saw each other, and when everybody else was gone, I decided to tell him about my latest predicament. He was, after all, one of the few people I trusted with my emo-stories and secrets. I'd say our conversation lasted for about ten minutes - that was when I was driving him home. He listened to me, and asked me random questions. I answered him truthfully, just like the old times.
He was never the type who would comfort you and tell you that things will be ok. Always frank, and a borderline know-it-all, he pretty much told me that I deserved the problem and gave me a lecture (well, more like advised me) to not make the same mistake again. Other people who didn't know him well would, I guess, be slightly offended. I, on the other hand, just smiled and acknowledged what he had to say. This was definitely one of the reasons why I liked him so much.
I was hoping the drive would last longer, but his place was too near, and there was barely traffic. He told me he'd want to talk more soon, but I knew he was just being polite. Well, even if he really meant it, I knew for a fact that he was as busy as I was, and we had no means of communication - except if someone would bump into me accidentally and would tell me where he was.
The truth is, I didn't want to expect. I had too much of that from him in the past.
But I saw him today - somewhere I never expected he'd be. He was as handsome, and as stern-looking. He didn't notice me at first - to my advantage, because I had a little moment of just 'staring' at him.
Finally, I was able to mutter a 'hi'. He looked up and his face brightened as he greeted me with a surprised, yet sincere smile. I used to have these smiles all the time.
He asked me what I was doing there, and I told him that this was pretty much the place where I usually sought peace of mind and drowned my thoughts in the silence.
I sat down in front of him, and started a little chat, which ended after a few minutes. He resumed what he was doing, and I started to read Timothy Montes' Vic Pura. Could there be a more perfect story to have at that very moment?
I kept glancing at him, obviously unable to concentrate on the story (note to self: read it again.)
I remember when we were always together - of course, we would be louder than we were right now. I always thought of him as the leader, followed his every command, even if he didn't require me to. I figured it would be the best way to spend more time with him - I was always happy when he was there.
Gradually, I started feeling something else - something which I denied at first, a feeling that I never wanted and dangerously the one thing that could destroy everything we have built.
For so long I struggled against the emotion, almost begging for it to go away. I was starting to do things I would never do before. I was giving up, succumbing to whatever that was that drew me to him more and more.
It was a one-way traffic thing, as my friends used to say. It was crazy, and hell, umpossible. So I did what I had to do. I detached myself. I led myself into thinking that forgetting him was the best thing to do, even if it meant going away. It was a decision I had to make. And I did.
"I have to go," he said, as he picked up his things hurriedly.
"Ah, ok. Bye," I replied softly.
"See you around then." He answered back, and gave me another hearty smile.
I followed him with my gaze, and heaved a sigh. I wondered what it would have been like if I stayed close to him, or if I gave in to the feeling I once had. Would it have hurt more than it did when I left? But I knew it was too late to be trying to analyze things.
I pretended to read again, drowning myself in stories that temporarily colored my world.