More or Less a Year of Question Marks

I lost count of moments I thought about her. Her smile, her laugh, her antics and pranks; her moodiness, her frowns, her angry expressions – or maybe I never started counting at all. I never mind, I never cared. Is this a love story? Who knows? God only knows.

Do I love her?

If you will judge “no” after knowing the whole occurrences, you’re a cold-hearted one indeed. I blamed her? No. Never did I. I can’t because I don’t have the bragging rights. And even it happened that I have, I’ve got no guts; because of love. Self-pity? No. Ego triggered? Maybe. I’m a man after all. And as the girls (who know it all) say, “Man is nothing but ego.”
I love her more than anyone else except my mother (I promised myself to put my mother first than anyone else – at the right reasons of course). She became my world a year ago. She struck me, even without doing anything. A simple conversation, turned into something I never imagined. Is she by my standards? Not really. I prefer slimmer yet curvaceous women with medium-size breasts and healthy butt. She got the smile, the mood, everything. For love, no one can produce the exact reason. No words can define it. How it moves? Slow progressing. Sometimes, it’s a bit fast that you can’t keep up. That’s when we start to cry. We can’t have the grip to hold onto our hearts. It flies away fast that even light can never surpass. The impact? Try to get shoved by the bullet train of the Japanese. Of course, figuratively-wise.

Again, do I love her?

Again, yes. True love waits. I just don’t know how long the heart can keep up. I never had the answer either. This is quite an enormous two-cents-worth for my brain. Never had I even bothered. I told myself that the day will come for me to know such non-measurable thing. That fluctuation in emotions that everybody desires is too minute for my everyday problems.
More or less a year passed, I didn’t remember the day I fell for her. I can’t say it’s a solid one year. There came a time that an ex-lover traversed my thoughts but I decided to risk for her still. I guess she got puzzled; all of a sudden, I stopped communicating with her. I need to gather my thoughts; I have to think for the right flow of thinking. I don’t want her to be my rebound.

Still, do I love her?

Yes, despite of the fact that I’m not quite sure if she feels the same way too. I got paranoia too. I don’t have the looks, definitely not the body (you can tell just by looking at my belly), but she said she has the feelings for me too. I just don’t know what exactly those are. I don’t even have the goddamn knowledge about our relationship! I don’t have any idea about us! She helped me by saying ‘I don’t know as well,” UNFORTUNATELY.
“Uy pare, girlfriend mo?”
“Hinde.”
“Nililigawan mo?”
“Ewan.”
“Ewan? Bkit ewan? Pumayag ba siyang ligawan mo s’ya?”
“Ewan.”
“Bakit wala siyang sagot?”
“Ewan.”
“Pinaghihintay ka niya?”
“Ewan.”
“Nge! Ano ‘yun? Hintayan kayo?”
“Ewan.”
*suddenly pauses maybe because he’s puzzled or he’s pitying me already*
“Mahal ka ba niya?”
*the bastard finally blasted the ultimate rocket*
“Hmmm… Good question deserves a good answer: EWAN.”

Yes, quite encouraging – or not! Yet, I still waited. I endured everyone who feels pity; I don’t need them anyway so the pity’s all theirs. I endured for more or less a year. I endured but I still can’t blame her nor feel anything bad for her. It’s natural, no artificial additives. Don’t cry for me – yet.

What’s with the hold up?

Family – that’s her first priority. She doesn’t want to lose the trust her family has given her. Many reacted; some violently. They say these two things can be done at the same time: loving me and raising her family. I became deaf, a real deaf. I never listened to anyone. I’m open with their opinions but never did mind. I stick to her. I love the girl, what in the scorching fires of hell can you bastards do?
She never opened anything to me. About the on-goings with her life, her emotions, her activities, her reasons, her triumphs and failures, her doubts and fears, is a decent score of 25%. She gave a measure of her love for me: 70%. What happened with the other 30%? The hell I know! What’s with the hold up? I madly wanted to know either.

How close are we?

We’ve been texting for a looooong period of time. Ever since I confessed to her, she politely accommodates me. But asking anything about her is a no-no. You can ask but you can never have the answer. That’s how it goes. At first I got freaked-up but gradually, out of love, I got used to it. She shares a piece of her life sometimes. I loved her more for that. It’s like working things to get the sweetest present. Or it’s just my presumption that that will lead to anything deeper. I was dead wrong. Never did I know where we are going nor are we progressing. How does it feel? Awfully painful.
One time I asked her again if she loves me. It got around 5 minutes waiting before I received her most-awaited reply. “You’ve crossed the line.” – that’s all she sent me, through text as usual. She explained that she never wanted to be asked like that. She’s been wording it out as if telling me that I didn’t have the f*cking right to ask. I said sorry. Conversation ended. Oh, did I say this is just recent?
We are like “barkada” inside the classroom. Most of my friends are also her friends. But talking to her will make you feel hesitant as if been asked to deliver a burger from the city to a far-flung area. So near yet very far. We can talk, casually. Full of jokes, antics, teasing (not romantic but something you’ll be shy of), and laughter. Serious talks about us? Once in a blue moon. I wonder what the moon’s schedule of her being blue is.

Why not quit then? Is it that worthy?

Quitting is not my game. Quitters are losers. Or maybe I should believe something different from that? I love her so I have to prove that I won’t quit! I will endure! I will conquer! Even if I have to kill or to kill myself, I’ll do it! I held on it with tender hands for more or less a year. Luckily, I never thought of any reason to give her up. I love her, goddamn it! So why would I? (no brainer)
A friend asked: “Is she that worthy?” I just looked in his eyes. He understood. Some will tease: “Is she that sexy or beautiful? Is she good at charming people? Is she good in bed?” – what the f*ck?! I never looked at her that way. I just got a peek of her persona and got hooked with it. Then, isn’t that just curiosity? Nope. A proof of being a real man? Nope. Is she that worthy? Yes.

What made you write this piece of crap?

Good questions deserve good answers. It’s because I wanted to gamble whether to find answers while writing this sh*t. Unfortunately, I didn’t. Questions are still bugging my pea brain. They’re like bugs feasting with a piece of green pea. Foolish, isn’t it? But they’re enjoying it. Unfortunate for them, they won’t have the adequate nutrients for them to grow. So they easily die yet they multiply fast leaving that piece of green pea being engulfed and engulfed until a piece barely seen by the naked eye was left. But a foolish organ called heart will be more than willing to refill another pea for the bugs to feast. Too figurative? Spare the writer with your critics. I am not good at writing and with spilling emotions.
Yesterday afternoon (I’m not out of my clockworks yet!), we had a fight regarding me joking her that she’s flirting with a classmate of ours whom I find as a threat. I said sorry and asking her to open up with me because she’s feeling anxious because of what I did. She forgave me (that’s what she said). I asked her what caused her to feel angry – she didn’t respond. I got fierce and asked her why she’s so closed talking to me. Without her respond, I felt a bit anxious as well. Because of that, I did a foolish thing: I tried to put a dot in all of my question marks after that more or less a year. What is our status after a long period of time? What am I too you? What’s between us? I’m dead serious, she’s giggling. She answered:
“I can’t find the right words but, we just have a mutual understanding. You’re not courting me. Nothing special is between us.”
Straight-face she told me those words after more or less a year of me thriving my way to her. I looked at the presentation shown at the stage (we are in a middle of a seminar), trying to pull my tears back.
“Why? Does this mean more than that to you?”
Again, straight face she added. I can see through my peripheral vision that she’s staring at me while doing that “fighting-with-my-own-tears” moment. Luckily, I emerged victorious over my weakness. It took me a couple of seconds to find the strength to look at her again. I was nearly sobbing. After regaining my strength to look at her, I puked as I shifted the topic to another that is miles away from what we’re talking. You can cry for me now if you want. Because that time, I’m f*cking serious, I almost cried.

One question is left that I don’t know if needed to be answered or not…

Do I need a rebound now?




*Written from 1:48 to 3:37 am of the last day of November in the year 2011.*