21. I sought refuge in one that parents would disapprove of. I was in cars, parking lots with you until early morning. Why that happened, and why I succumbed, I can’t say. I drove to you one night- barely finding my way through the Manila highways in places I would have never been allowed to drive. How I found the place, to this day, I wouldn’t know.
Hours later, I lay there, impossible to sleep. I lay there for hours in an endless wanting to leave. I knew this was wrong from the beginning, from the very first night. But I had nothing at that point. I wouldn’t listen to anyone around me. In a thrashing of words and Sun Cellular sim cards with my mother, I knew this wouldn’t go anywhere.
Then I jumped to the start of something new (pun intended*) . In a new you. You who would make sense, who’s voice and cadence I was intoxicated by. When you called me in the airport a mere 2 weeks after we met, I was hooked. I was weak in my stomach for you. Everything about you, I couldn’t get enough of. How I would sneak off with you hours into the night in that one place that I shouldn’t have been, but I did anyway.
Then a night in LGV. When I knew that you were right- that this was something we shouldn’t have gotten into. I felt I was going to lose you. I felt with all my heart that this had meant everything to me, though it had been a mere 3 weeks. Again, I hadn’t been more lost in my life than at this time. I should have listened to you. Hung on to every word of uncertainty that you said. But I was selfish- overwrought with emotion and resisted. I got what I wanted.
Almost 4 years later, in our place (the one where we had started), I cried at the end of you. I cried so hard though I knew for a long time, you were gone. I never cry in real life. In character, yes, I can because that isn’t me. But I lost you. We had lost each other somewhere in year 2, maybe. When before, the simplest gesture I had in mind, the poem I had found and given to you, brought you to tears- now there was nothing. When you’d see me cry on film, on stage, you would cry. I could no longer make you feel anything. Nothing. You sat there and watched me cry that last night and that brought hardly anything out of you.
I had prayed the week of my birthday, for what was best. Two days after we ended where we began you admitted it all to me. You admitted where you heart really had been for a long time. I felt a shock, a literal shock in the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t cry anymore, I had cried too much the other night. You were a wreck, in tears. I brought you water and clarity and once I knew you were calm enough, I left and I was numb.
Now there’s you. You don’t see me. I wish you did. You don’t. But that’s ok.