redemption

(written november 18)

“I guess I’m just craving for some human touch.”

For the first time, that did not come from me. Haha. Somebody. A friend who has always been dear to me. But he’s also the friend who likes saying and doing things to me in a more-than-friends way. So I avoid him and I come up with stupid answers just to dodge his seemingly informal invitations to take our friendship to a level my mind and heart wouldn’t want to do with him.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I like this person as a friend. It’s actually uncomfortable to be in a situation where your level of liking for a person is far exceeded because that person seems to view you from an entirely different league.

Humbling, even, to be considered romantically attractive to such an intellectual elite. But I’ve had a lion’s share of intellectual elites and it wasn’t really the e equals m c squared of having long lasting relationships. I just wish he’d find the right person because when he hits on me, I say stupid things just to communicate that: “Geez, PARE. Wag ako. Friends tayo e.”

So, my stupid reply of the day to that YM message he sent me the other day: “Ay nako “name ni friend dito* Human touch? Overrated!!! Long live intellectual stimulation. C’mon chong!”

And he said: “Of course not. YOU know that’s not true.”

I DID, And certain events exactly 24 hours after that YM conversation, I was put to the test.

That’s really the thing when you say STUPID things that you don’t mean: it later comes back to spite you in one way or another. I can imagine Fate, wearing his casuals and throwing his Chuck Taylors at my face now. I am the laughingstock of the universe. boohoo.And it all started at…

12:45 am.

A jolting noise woke me up. I looked out from my bedroom window. Lots of screaming voices. And there was a woman, wailing in a distinct way. I know that intense wailing– the type that seemed to have ripped her heart to smithereens. I cried that way before… and at the time, I remembered every single instance that I cried that way…

Body went into fight or flight mode. Sweat dripped down my brose. May sunog ba? May namatay ba? But there was neither smoke nor gunshots…

Groggy from a disrupted trail of what could have been such sweet, sweet dreams, I checked my phone. One new message.

I felt excited. Then I decided to go back to checking the commotion through the huge bedroom window. The sound effects of broken glass and panic rivaled the Dolby Digital System when I watched Dinosaurs on the big screen.

SMS from Guitar Man said: “I’ve been hurt before and I want to make sure it won’t happen again… I hope you can be patient.” The words kind of floated plus the Dolby-like sounds.

My first instinct that time was to type in: “Can you call me now… my neighbors are driving me crazy, I’m scared and I… miss… you” (bwahahaha, kadiri sa pagka-clingy noh.)

But that time, hindi ko sinabi. Kasi I know that when someone asks you to be patient, you just give that person what he needs. Shit or no shit.

And I also recognized that there’s something about that very situation that I have to FEEL FULLY ON MY OWN. Some of my friends are still awake, but I didn’t bother them din.

Wailing woman continued her sad, despair-soaked ARIA. I later learned that she was the relative of the guy in the coffin 2 doors away from house. And so were the 2 guys who did the noisy bottle-bashing and filled our street with angst from their personal issues and obvious, obvious overdrive of alcohol, ego and testosterone. More testoterone, err, men came in to dispel the fight that has ensued.

One, two, three hours. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven days after that incident. I was crying. Not through the eyes. But through the ink of my now-dead blue 0.5 Dong A Gel Pen. It’s always been this way when I feel so intense: the pen does the talking for me. And you know because it’s on the screen now. Feelings turned to art, or at least, that’s the objective.

Human TOUCH. Intriguing. Because at that moment when I was waiting for the unpleasant songs of discord to stop, all I wanted was some touch of safety. That same longing babies have for mommy when there’s a thunderstorm. That same thing the Titanic movie had when the ship was sinking and there was an old couple there who just EMBRACED each other in an I’ll-die-with-you-and-I-so-so-love-you embrace until the waves devoured them to death.

Sighs.

The blanket and pillows all just felt like ice to me all of a sudden. There were no tears streaming down my cheeks, but a huge cloud of FEAR held my heart captive and I was really experiencing this battle from within. And I know that if I start praying to God that time, all those tears would flow out like a dam breaking loose. Damn, memories can be so painful.

It’s in these moments that I realize how VULNERABLE I actually am. It’s a miracle that I am still very much willing to take risks to find the person I can embrace and sink in the TItanic ship in my old age with. Because, pucha, alam ko na it’s worth it.

And I know that it’s what my friends and family see when I start falling for a person: “Wow her face lights up. But God, I hate to see her when it doesn’t work out.”

You can NEVER ever tell if this will work out. Understandably, people take precautions because a broken heart is no laughing matter at all. Walls are built. Space is asked. Even when you have the bestest of best intentions, things can be just messed up in the middle and throw you to a tragic end.

With all your pieces flying around and broken in the most fragile spots, if i may add.

Regardless, IT’S WORTH ITTTTT

Reformed by my prior stupidity, I change my reply to a more truthful one for my forever friend:

“Yes. We all need that human touch. Not merely the ones we physically feel. But the type of touch that we would tread through hell and high water for. I can’t touch in you that way, I am very sorry. But I hope that God brings you to the person who can and will do just that.”

I gave guitar man the reply that my brain wanted to tell him: “Take your time”

But my heart keeps trying to pull him back as he asked for space. It’s actually easier said than done, you know.

I’ll keep trying, anyway.

This entry was posted on Sunday, November 23rd, 2008 at 9:27 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.