Maybe

The clock on the top of city hall tower chimed in the distance: once, twice, thrice. Eleven times, the girl counted as she ran through the drizzle. The moon shone brightly, its reflection shimmered from the puddles on red brick pathway.

I won't make it on time, she realized. She wiped a drop of water from her cheek, not sure whether it was the drizzle or her own teardrop.

He'll be gone.

She knew things will not work out between them. She knew right from the start. She has been trying to convince herself that letting him go is the right thing to do. She never believes in love anyway. Not with the bickering parents and her siblings turning into a bunch of wild kids.

She passed the dimly-lit park and halted for a while. That park. The place he kissed her for the first time: not even a kiss on the lips, it was more the brotherly kind of kiss on the top of her head. The place where she realized that she has been too involved. The place where she realized she should back off.  But how could she? Everything was so very perfect. Everything was dreamy. Every time spent with him was a movie scene.

She began to ran, again. Maybe the faster she ran, the faster the memories of him would fade. 

But I don’t even know what I want to tell him, she began to think between sobs, I don’t know what I feel anymore.

Her watch peeked from the sleeve of her raincoat: thirty minutes to midnight. Thirty minutes to the time he was going to step out of her life for a year, maybe forever. Who knows what the future brings.

Maybe she will miss him.

Maybe she will not.

Maybe he will meet someone else and settle down.

Maybe he will wait for her.

She already realized that maybe deep down inside, she never wanted to know the truth. About him, about them. She just wanted to keep the idea of him, of them being together, stay alive in her mind. She did not mind to continue her life in constant denial.

She also realized that he most probably feels the same way about her. He liked the idea of her being the perfect partner: bubbly and carefree and patient and kind. She was all those most of the times, but she was merely human being. She had her ups and downs all the time.

But we can work it out. Everything can work out if you try hard enough, she thought as she reached an intersection. Right across, the bus he’s aboard was starting up its engine. The pedestrian light was still red.

It was earlier than she expected. He must be already on board. There will be no time to say anything. At all.

Unless…

The street was deserted, it was almost midnight. She took a glance to both sides of the road.

It’s now or never.

She took the chance and ran, there was a flashing bright light and she felt a hard metal hit her side.

The sound of shattering glass and crushing metal was piercing the night.

She fell to the road while the bus departed. Maybe a closure was not necessary. Maybe they did not need to talk about themselves. Maybe they should just leave things where they were.

Maybe we are each other worst nightmare, trying to believe otherwise.

She heard sirens wailing right before everything went dark.

200 days

200 days before…
She finally agreed to go out with him. It was only a harmless, gelato-and-coffee date anyway. Nothing bad will happen. She tied her black boots and sighed.

She had been trying so hard not to attach herself to anyone. To protect herself from other heartaches. Not even to her closest friends. There was always a part of her that she keeps from each person. She had enough heartache for a lifetime.

But it was hard to do to him. The first time they met a couple weeks ago, the bizarre way how it turned out they live somehow closely intertwined yet they never met until then had made her interested to talk to him. How he used to go to the same basketball club as her brother, how she used to work part-time in an ice cream parlour which his sister often visits. There was something in his eyes that made her felt comfortable to talk to him the whole night, which continue on when he walked her home.

Her boots tied, she stood up and took her messenger bag.

127 days before…

It was an unusually warm night and the stars were shining bright. The crust of the pizza they had was perfectly crispy, there was no clump in their milkshake, and the splashing sound from the fountain was not enough to distract him from the spark in her eyes.

She smiled from ear to ear and he tried his best not to pull her into his arms, never letting her go. She has been laughing a lot today, cracking jokes when they walked on the pier and all the way to the park where they decided to eat their dinner. He watched her took a sip of her milkshake, gnawing on her straw as she drank.

She was an adorable girl, cute as a button. It was almost impossible to resist her girl-next-door charm he has heard some guys at school talking about. But back then, he did not know her, not yet. Not until he met her about two months ago, and they had been going out ever since. He never knew the reason why she kept rejecting his invitation to dinner or movie or even only a cup of coffee for weeks, but he was glad when she finally agreed to have a gelato with him.

He smiled at her as she finished her story about a surprisingly eventful afternoon in her lab, when one of her classmate mixed the wrong solutions and caused several beaker glasses and tubes to explode. She laughed as she described how the professor kept telling everyone to be calm when everyone WAS calm already and it was him who was pacing in panic around the lab.

And he just cannot resist the urge to pull her closer. His face moved closer to hers while she was still laughing.

Their forehead met. She stopped laughing, her breath smelled like strawberry milkshake.

It was, indeed, a magical night for both of them.

107 days before…

People said that if it was too good to be true, then it probably is.

She realized she had been too attached to him. She knew she must not attach herself to anyone, she cannot take another heartache. She had realized that she had to back off, for her own sake and, in a way, his sake as well. But how could she? Everything was so very perfect. Everything was dreamy; it almost gave her fairy tale-esque buzz every time she met him. Those smiles she got every time she woke up in the morning after they went out.

And here came the baggage.

He had got a job in another continent and he will leave as soon as he finished his final project.

She had her own plan to pursue another degree.

She knew she would have a hard time, being the one who stayed. She would be the one who saw pieces of memories with him. On the bench near the pier, on the coffee shop in the library, on the high stools in the gelato bar by the park. It hurt and it would always hurt, even just a bit.

She knew they will not work out. She was lousy at long distance relationship. Yet she knew she do not want to lose him. And all they had.

She knew she cannot win the fight. But she refused to believe it.

Being such an overachiever almost her whole life, she believed she always wins.

She had not realized that the worst lie is the one you tell yourself.

89 days before…

He had fuzzy past she cannot decipher.

She had the difficulty to express her feeling.

The uncertainty kept him excited.

The vague future kept her unsure.

85 days before…

She cannot take it anymore. It will not work out. They will not work out, ever. She thought it will be better to just end everything now, before she got more and more attached. Attachment always leads to heartache, well, in her case anyway.

But she cannot lie to herself. She liked him: she liked his company, she liked his laugh, she liked how he smelled like soap and a dash of cinnamon. She did not have to put up her guard when she was with him, she could tell him everything. It made her feel less lonely.

And he was going to leave the city in three months anyway. For good. Although she never know for whose good.

The realization of having to let him go and the worry of being lonely kept conflicting in her heart and mind. Naturally, she kept the battle to herself.

She did realize that emotional battle tends to give horrible aftermath, but she never realized how until it was too late.

78 days before…

Her emotional outbursts were getting more and more often, each more severe than before.

He liked her a lot, but he was at the edge.

He was not sure anymore.

But then again, he was not sure of oh-so-many things.

53 days before…

She smiled at him as they walked on the bridge. His hand was holding hers and he was telling her about his latest project at school. She liked it when he talked about his school works: he was very passionate about his study and she liked the vibe. The day was perfect and she felt all the fairy tale-esque buzz again.

He felt her hand fidgeting in his and he stroked his thumb on the back of her hand. He really liked how she smiled more often now. It was tiring to keep up with her tantrums and outbursts, especially because he never knew what they were all about. When it was nice to see her all bubbly like this, he cannot help but wonder when this cheery laugh will stop and the waterworks started again.

She began to think that maybe, maybe they can make it work. Maybe she should tell him what all the outbursts were about. Maybe she was willing to fight for it. For them. But would he?

30 days before…

It was her worst outburst. And he did not have time to deal with it. He had to finish his final project which will due in 15 days.

She finally told him about everything. About what she wants, about what she thought he also wants.

What she never knew was he did not even know what he wants. He was not sure of what he wants.

But then again, he was not sure of oh-so-many things.

12 days before…

She began to lose her faith on them. On what they had and could have.

She fed up. She did not want to see him anymore.

5 days before…

He missed her. He was going to leave in less than a week. Will he ever see her again?

3 days before…

She contemplated whether she should meet him one last time. Everybody needs closure.

1 day before…

It’s that time of the year again, she smiled as she passed hurrying crowds who were doing their last minute shopping. It was hard not to be happy with almost everyone was smiling from ear to ear, little children wore little cute hats and antlers, and the smell of hot cocoa was steaming from the churros stall nearby. It was hard not to be happy with all the cheer and merriment in the atmosphere.

She stared at the glittering fairy lights all around the plaza in front of the city hall across the road as she waited for the green pedestrian light, when someone patted her shoulder.

“Want to have gelato? We can eat them when we’re watching the lights,” he said with his signature smile, a woollen hat stood jauntily on his head.

“Hey,” she smiled brightly; she always did that every time she saw him. He pulled her into a hug, and she let go rather hasty, “I’m a bit full but if you don’t mind sharing I won’t say no to a pistachio gelato.”

The pedestrian light went green, and they crossed the street. She waited when he queued for the gelato, humming to the tune from the speakers at the plaza.

Look how far we’ve come, she thought as she glanced at him, ordering their pistachio gelato, how am I supposed to know this, the first time we met?

She sighed.

“Shall we find somewhere to sit?” he said, a big pistachio gelato on his right hand and casually put his left hand on her shoulder. They sat on one of the benches, right below the line of fairy lights.

“I’m glad we can meet before I go,” he said and smiled at her.

She kept quiet, smiled at him half-heartedly.

“You seem quiet today, is something wrong?” he asked again, offering her the gelato.

She took the gelato, took a bite, and answered, “no, I’m good.”

He glanced at her and chuckled, “oh come on. You know you can’t ever lie to me. Seriously, what’s wrong?”

She sighed again, and looked rather tired.

“It’s just…,” she said after some time, “I’m so scared of being alone.”

“You’re not alone, you got me.”

No, you’re leaving tomorrow, she thought before answering, “that’s the thing, you know. I am way too attached to you. I cannot distinguish need and want, love and lust, admiration and obsession anymore. It’s not healthy, at least for me. I can’t rely on you forever.”

He licked the gelato quite some time, “why not?”

“Because you got her. Them. Everyone,” her voice weakened in every syllable and whispered the last bit, “I only have you. And at some point, you will forget me.”

He sighed. It’s the same old topic all over again, one of her outbursts topic, and he was getting tired of it.

“We both know it’s not working out. It won’t work out. You were the one who said it first, anyway,” he said as he took her trembling hand. He heard stifled sob yet he did not react. A guitar tune was playing from the speakers.

“What if you

Could wish me away

What if you

Spoke those words today…”

Her sobs got more audible, although it was quite covered by the song.

And the perfect song too, great, he thought as he put his face in his palms.

He sighed and embraced her.

“You know I will always care about you. There will always be a part of you with me. But… But we just want different things now. What if we think about what we really want first, so when we met again, sometime, we will be better for each other?”

She kept quiet.

“I might not be leaving

Oh so soon

Began the night believing

I loved you in the moonlight”

“I thought I am different,” she said, “I thought you really lo…” her voice tailed away.

He put his face in his palms once more, loss of words. He did, though. Once. Now he was not sure.

She had stopped crying and she stroked the back of his hand.

At least she did have him. She did have him back then; she did have him at this exact moment.

“I could’ve treated you better

Better than this”

“It’s getting late, let’s go home,” he said as he stood up and offered his hand to her. After all, his flight was quite early.

She kept her head down for a moment, then she took his hand and stood up beside him.

“For what it’s worth, I’m grateful that we did have what we had once,” she said at last, with glassy eyes and a smile. He smiled rather unconvincingly, wiped a teardrop on her cheek with his thumb, and hugged her before kissed the top of her head.

Then they moved slowly in circle as they embraced through the song.

“So, for tonight

I’ll stay here with you

Yes, for tonight

I’ll lie here with you”

(What If You – Joshua Radin)

The Problem of a Wish

It was a chilly, windy dusk at the end of autumn. The sun had not yet set, but there was a streak of  purplish pink hue between the sheep wool cloud. The park was almost empty with only a girl sitting on the bench by lonely pond. A breeze blown and the girl went tighten up her scarf on the top of her blazer.

Another girl entered the park, tighten up her waistcoat as she approached the girl on the bench.

"Oh please tell me you didn't just call me to have a nice chitchat in the middle of nowhere like this?" the girl who just arrived grumbled as she sat beside the other girl.

"Really? Nowhere? This is the prettiest park in town," the first girl replied dreamily.

The grumbling girl scanned the surrounding, then she sighed.

"Perhaps it was, one time during summer. And the middle of autumn, when the leaves change color. And how you love it, don't you? When the leaves changing color? I knew it's your favorite time of the year," the girl chuckled before adding, "now look at me, rambling when sitting on a bench in the middle of your windy paradise."

"It took time to get used to, but eventually you will admit that this is pretty," that is the only reply she got.

Silence.

 "I'm kind of wishing that we could make the season stays in mid autumn," the first girl said, then sighed.

"Wish. A powerful yet dangerous word, isn't it?" the other one replied as she smirked a little bit.

She tighten her waistcoat, and continued, "I see why it is powerful. Wish could give people hope. And hope is... Hope is like the next best thing someone could have to live their life. The next best thing after getting what you need, that is. After all, hope is something you want, not something you need. But dangerous, why would a wish be dangerous?"

The girl smiled, the kind of smile that would give you chill, "well, don't you see? You said it yourself just then. A wish is usually something that you want, not something that you need."

"And how was that dangerous?" the girl ask curiously, as the other one sigh before replying.

"What if the thing that you want is not something that you need? What if your wish has been granted, but as time passed you realized that it isn't the thing that you want? Would you still be happy then?"


The girl in the waistcoat stayed quiet for a time, thinking of her answer carefully. The other one, however, the one who was asking the question all the time, keep her eerie smile on, with her eyes scanning the skyline dreamily.

Finally, the girl in the waistcoat replied, "now when you see it that way, I think it might be dangerous. I mean, what if you get the thing that you want and you realize that you don't really need it and you under appreciate it? You might not need it now. You might never know when you need it. But what if the thing is gone when you finally need it? It's not like we can reset the whole thing, start over, and plan carefully when to wish which, right?"

"That is the thing with a wish, isn't it?" said the girl as she toyed her own scarf indeterminately, "once it has been granted, no one can take it back. Nor you can know whether you could have it again some time soon."

How do you know someone has a special meaning to you?

When they leave you, there is a wrenching pain in your heart.

Which will give you a scar.

A scar that might not be healed even if they come back to you.

The Summer Longing

What is the thing with missing something, or someone?

There goes again. The question that has been bugging me since the beginning of summer. I decided to drift a bit to the little coffee shop in the corner of the block, grab a spearmint iced tea which is perfect for the weather.

I know she is too perfect for me. Not out-of-my-league kind of perfect, but the one perfect. That, except she is not the one, at least not for me. It is not that I never try. I try, so hard, harder than I usually do for the other girls before her, or after. But you know the rule: after you try oh so hard yet it still does not work out, it just does not meant to be. Just suck it up, let it go, and move on.

As hard as I learn to admit it, the harder one is swallowing the bitter truth. She is not the one for me, no matter how perfect everything is, how compatible we are, how we are so synchronized in almost everything. It is just not going to work out.

I order a cup of spearmint iced tea, and take it to a seat in the corner of the coffee shop. I stir the iced tea and enjoy the sound of the ice cubes tinkling. As I stare at the pretty, kaleidoscopic ray of sunlight refracts through the ice cubes, my most recent memory of her swims back to my mind.

 


-----


I sat with her at one of the tables under the umbrella in front of the coffee shop. The coffee shop where I worked during the summer. I was on my break time, so I decided to grab a quick lunch with her and used my employee lunch for tomorrow to treat her. I stirred my iced tea and the ice cubes tinkled. Her hazel, doe eyes that I always adore fixed on the sparkling, tinkling ice cubes.

"I just love their tinkling sound, you know?" she smiled dreamily.

I stirred my iced tea again, the ice cubes tinkled even louder. She laughed, the sparkle in her eyes dancing.

"Don't push your luck, really," she said after her laugh ceased into small chuckles.

"What?" I replied innocently, smirked a little bit.

She only smiled at me and took a sip of her iced latte.

"What is the thing with missing something, or someone?" she asked me and looked into my eyes.

I knew she just broke up with her boyfriend, so I guessed it has nothing to do with him.

"What are you talking about?" I said, which was the only thing I had in my mind.

"I just realized that sometimes missing someone doesn't mean that you haven't met them for a while. Sometimes... Well, sometimes we just miss the way things were," she sighed, "you even could miss someone whom you see every single day, just because the person's attitude or the relationship between you and the person has changed. Oh well, it could be ourselves who has changed, not the other person."

She chuckled, although she did sound a little hesitated, like she was wondering whether I got the joke. I just stared at her, trying to figure out what was this all about.

"Sometimes, we miss someone because our feeling towards the person has changed. Either for the worse, or for the better."


-----



And now, I sit here in the exact same coffee shop, just different table. And I begin to wonder if she was talking about me, about us back then. I wonder whether her feeling towards me has changed. Of course, I have been thinking about that for million times and dismissed the thought for gazillion times. It just did not work out, does not and will never work out. She already moved halfway around the world anyway, so I guess I better stop torturing myself with that kind of thoughts. If she did not think telling me what was all that about before she went is important, I should not keep thinking about it as if it was important.

I take a last sip of my iced tea and return the empty glass to the counter. As I push the door to get out, a bizarre chill blows and I take a glance to the sky.

Even season changes. Summer almost over, and here goes autumn.

Reunion

He always hold my hand. Always.

And  I have known him for ages.

No, this is not the typical cute-guy-next-door-whom-the-neighboring-girl-is-mooning-over story. Relax.

In fact, we are not even neighbor. However, we did go to the same school since elementary.

....

We were sitting in the school cafeteria: he ate sandwich and I played around with my mashed potato. Just a normal lunch hour in a school day. That, before the bully came and jeered at me. I was awfully scrawny, freckled, with a wisp of curly auburn hair during my childhood, an easy target for a bully. I do not really remember what the bully said to me, but I remembered the sob it triggered, since the jeering and mocking have been going on and on since the beginning of school year. I remembered I cried, my tears went down my cheek to my chin and dampen my skirt.

Then he stood up and put his hands on his hips. I remembered I lift my face and took a look at how furious he is. He told the bully to leave me alone and stop bugging me and he should have been treating everyone better. I remembered how the bully only lifted his eyebrows at first, but then decided to leave us alone as the bell rang. I remembered he took my hand and we walked together, hand in hand, to our classroom. 

Before he turned the door knob, he let go of my hand.

....

It was a hot, extremely humid summer day. I sat on the swing in the porch, a glass of dewy iced tea in my hand. It was an uncomfortable day, not to add the fact that I just had my final year in middle school tainted with being dumped by my very first boyfriend. 

I remembered he showed up some time after lunch, with his shiny blue bike. I remembered I put down my iced tea, gladly jumped on my own bike, and went to an ice cream parlor at the corner of the street with him. I remembered he took my hand after we parked our bikes and we walked together, hand in hand, to the shop.

Before he pointed at the Macadamia Brittle ice cream that he want to order, he let go of my hand.

....

He was just get dumped by his perfect girlfriend: the valedictorian cheerleader who are going to spend next year on philanthropic trip to Angola. She did not want to have the long distance relationship with him, and decided to call their relationship off. It was such a big slap for him, not to mention she told him right after junior prom.

I remembered I saw him sitting on the bleacher, alone. I remembered how the gym floor still covered with balloons and confetti as I walked toward him. I remembered I took his hand as he smiled weakly at me. I remembered how I told him that everything was fine and it was not the end of the world. And how we still have each other, anyway. I remembered he finally decided to go home, after driving me home.

Before he took out his car key, he let go of my hand.

....

It was the end of final exam week for our sophomore year in college and our third time deciding how our relationship as more than friend will never work. The time was never right for us: it was either I was too busy with my paper due, or he was too caught up with his part time job, or that his perfect high school sweetheart has just transferred to our campus.

I remembered how I felt so fed up with him, with us, yet still had this tiny, little drop of hope that we will work it out somehow. I remembered how he tried to consolidate and took my hand, but both of us realize it will not work out anyhow. I remembered we only exchanged weak, unconvincing smile, as we tried to busy ourselves with our drinks. I remembered when his perfect ex showed up, apparently he told her to come meet him after he met me, but she showed up earlier.

Before he called up her name, he let go of my hand.

....

And today is our one-decade-reunion for high school. I heard he was not involved with his perfect high school sweetheart anymore, but heaven knows how he is doing now. We are seeing each other less and less after sophomore year in college, although I still get his update from his social page on the internet.

I enter the restaurant that has been booked for the event reluctantly, not knowing what should I expect from this. I greet some of my friends, and finally take a seat beside my lab partner in Biology class. The third time the automatic door slides, I can see from the corner of my eyes that he is entering the restaurant. I am talking with my lab partner and other two girls about our life updates, so I do not greet him instantly.

But right after I am done talking with the girls, he waves at me and approaches me. He smiles and says "hello, how has it been?" and listens to my answer curiously and takes my hand. And he hold it quite some time, as we talk. Apparently he is busy with his big corporate work and has not been able to be in touch with anyone in high school until now. He also says that it is such a pleasure to see me again finally, and how he is happy that I am doing great. I smile and replies similarly, in a quite formal way.

Then he looks at my eyes and I realize that this reunion is a milestone for us. A milestone for how we are not going to be more than friends or anything. Although reunion is meant for reuniting old friends, families, and colleagues, it can also show you why the things are not working out the way you expect them to. And they probably never will work out. You can just see it, either from the talk or the way someone look at you. And that is what I realize when I took a look at his eyes.

This time, I let go of his hand.

The Tale of Two Parallel Lines

"Could you stop?"
"Stop? I beg your pardon?"
"Yea, could you stop making me fall for you?"
"Now, really, what?"
"See, you don't even realize. Don't you know how tiring it is to fall over and over again for someone who does not even realize? Not even once."
"But..."
"Just stop, really. I don't want to want you anymore. It is already tiring to see how compatible we are, how we always think in the same way, how we keep going in the same direction yet we never meet. There is not even a 'we', there is just you and I. You and I, who aim for same future but take the path alone."
"Now, could you, also, stop?"
"Excuse me?"
"Stop playing victim. Stop acting like I don't want to cross path with you, while I actually can't. It's not me who keep barricading myself with tall, unbreakable wall."