The Night Before. The Morning After.

Originally uploaded by: .bek

You stepped quickly into my apartment but stood there in the kitchen refusing to move into the room. You looked down at the floor. Your whole body was trembling. I thought you were on the verge of tears. You would not let me hold you or led you in. We stood there facing each other and I was at a loss on what to do.


Gently, I asked “do you want to go home?”


You did not answer but the question seemed to force you to a decision. Even with your head bowed, I could see you struggling with your thoughts and emotions. Then silently, you walked into the room and sat on the edge of my bed.


I sat besides you making sure that our shoulders did not touch. Looking back, it was kind of amusing, wasn’t it? Just minutes ago, we were in deep embraces but now we just sat there apart, afraid to touch. Hesitant conversations gradually stole its way in. Inconsequential and meaningless conversations to fill the void and erased the edges. As we feel more comfortable, I put my hand over and enveloped your shoulder.


You stiffened, and then relaxed. You leaned over and rested your head on my body. I softly brushed it with my hand and ran my fingers through your hair. I held your head to my chest to hear the thumping of my heart that must have sounded like an echoing boom from an endless cave. There was a spreading wetness on my chest. You were crying again. But your hand tightened round my back as if afraid I will draw away. The other hand reached out for one of mine and clasped it. We held each other like this for a long while, sometimes giving each other a little squeeze to show our affection. That was how I will always want to remember us.


It was a serene and comfortable but temporal state. It could not last. For passion does not flow like languid water. It crackles, erupts and burns, fiercely.


We reached out for each other. Our tentative kisses became more intense, more urgent. The dam had been breached. There were no further restraints. The emotions we had kept in check burst forth. Nothing matters any more except giving all and possessing all in return. Your strength was surprising. Your hunger was amazing. I found your desire for me so beautiful. And that fierce tenderness I felt, how can that not be love? It was too beautiful to be called lust.


I looked up at Beth and saw tears in her eyes. In a trembling voice, she said “I was so ashamed of the intensity of my emotions, so ashamed I never knew what my heart is capable of holding. And how little control I had over it. All that my heart can feel, I felt it all at once. Fearful and joyous, troubled and euphoric, hopeful and sad. Yes, sad because I knew I was lost. Overcame by a desire I had no control of nor did I even want to try.”


“I was brought up a proper Catholic,” she continued. “What we did I knew was wrong. What we did was sinful. And I was so afraid. If what I felt was not love, then it must be lust. But I was beyond the point of caring. Tomorrow I will confess and leave you, but tonight…”


“And then when I was ready to give you all, you asked the most stupid and hurtful question. I had also not heard a more beautiful or noble question since. “Are you a virgin?” I froze. You did not wait for me to continue for it was not a question to you but a stating of fact. “You must save it for the one you will marry.” With those words, you destroyed me that night. As your words sliced my heart, it also severe any doubts and hope I may have. You were such a beautiful person. I loved you.”


I reach out to hold Beth but only touch air. Tears roll down her cheek and drip onto the floor collecting in a small puddle. I do not understand the reality of the ghost world or how it relates to ours.


“I am not a weak person. I do not cry easy” Beth said. “But you make me vulnerable. I hate it and I don’t. I was a happy person, you changed that. It took me a long time to be happy again.”


“I’m sorry” I said.


Yes, I remembered your easy laughter. In a crowded bus ride to Pasay, I was amazed how easily you made friends with strangers and talked to them like old friends. When I asked you what were spoken, you always reply “oh, nothing.” But then, you will volunteer interesting details about this person and that. I could never be like that and admired you for it. I am sorry I hurt you. But it was you who left me the next morning.

To be continued…

Manila Bay Sunset.

Originally uploaded by Darkia.

I remembered that evening when we walked along Manila Bay just before sunset. It was your favorite time of the day when everything was coated rust brown like that of a sepia photograph. Made it kind of magical, timeless you said. But you knew it was an illusion for the moments are fleeting. That is why you treasured it so much. You allowed me to hold your hand but when I slipped my arm round your waist, you slipped away laughing. Then you came back and held my hand again.

We had dinner in a restaurant where the staffs were deaf-mute and we made our order with sign languages. You laughed at my attempts to make myself understood. You found reasons to laugh at almost anything. Sometimes, when I thought you were laughing at me, you will grab my arm to dissipate any hurt feelings I may have.

At the bench in the park behind the bush under the swaying coconut tress, you let me kissed you. As your lips melted in mine, a sigh that sounded like a great release escaped you. A warmth spread all over me and I was assailed with a great tenderness to protect and possess you at the same time. I squeezed your body close to mine. Was this lightness of being, this euphoria, this racing of the heart, this tenderness, was this love? I remembered asking. They said you will know when you fell in love. They said a lot of things. They said you will always remember your first kiss. I forgot mine for twenty years. I was drowning in passion yet I found myself asking, “Is this love?” You were right. I think too much.

But you blew these thoughts from my mind when you kissed me again with greater passion. You seemed to have lost your inhibition consumed by a hunger as great as mine. Our lips, our tongues swam like big fishes thrashing in a shallow pond. We were losing control when you suddenly pulled back and pushed me away. We were both panting. You would not meet my eyes. You buried you head on my chest, clenched fists beating my back. When you raised it again, my questioning look was returned with an enigmatic smile. Why did I feel it looked a little sad?

In the long taxi ride back to the apartment, we punctuated our conversation with kisses. Out of the blue, you wanted to hear me sing. You always laugh at my singing but I was never offended. You promised not to this time but I knew you lied. I sang for you Cliff Richard’s “Bachelor Boy”.

When I was young my father said
'Son I have something to say'
And what he told me I'll never forget
Until my dying days

He said son you are a bachelor boy
And that's the way to stay
Son you'll be a bachelor boy
Until your dying days

You said my singing was terrible but you love it. I believe you.

When the taxi reached my building, you hesitated and then you shyly followed me into my apartment.

To be continued...