Saturday, May 9, 2009

The Great Escape (First Part)

"Kuya I'm a bit drunk..."

Your text message urged me to dial your number and hear your voice. The somber delivery of your words fed me with doubts. You assured me that you can manage and get home by yourself. I doubted your sincerity. As a warrant that you were doing fine, you even thought of staying in my place after your coffee stop was over.

I told you that I would wait.

The last time I saw your familiar face, you surprised me by showing up in Nakpil after telling you that I was drunk, alone and waiting for friends to arrive in Malate. I was so moved by your sweetness that I paid for your entry at BED to tour you around myself.

After that fateful morning, I felt you drifting away My suspicions arose from the sights and sounds you saw. You were overwhelmed by the experience. There were other reasons running inside my head but I never recognized your sudden changes. When I ran out of reasons for your icy departure, I resigned to your nature of putting distance between you and a fling.

After all, you are taken.

There were times I thought of cutting ties with you. I am, after all, a danger to your twisted relationship. But it was you who clung to me by casually making your presence felt. I was on the verge of leaving, but your timely apology had put a break on my plans of secession. A bond already exists between us and I don't have the heart to turn my back on our strange beginnings. Our talks resumed with intermittent text messages coming from you. If you only knew how frustrating it was for you to check me out and then leave me hanging after getting my reply.

It was like your messages weren't meant for me.

While waiting for your words of confirmation, pearl-sized raindrops began to drop like water bombs on the rooftop. I knew the chances of you staying over lessened as the downpour intensified. Wasting no time accepting defeat, I found myself putting on my walking shorts and windbreaker jacket. Pulling a two hundred peso bill from the money box, I abandoned my room leaving the fan on and switching the lights off. Passing by the masters bedroom, I took a peek at the slightly opened door to see what my mom was doing. She was still up, seated on her bed and singing hymns aired on the Catholic Cable Channel.

Certain that a daring escape was required for you to stay over, I tiptoed myself down the stairs and towards the waiting door.

While praying that I would never get caught sneaking out at 3 in the morning.


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