Just a Pain Reliever (Pinili Series #1)

Chapter 25

Love Me Not 

Love me; love me not. 

This will be easy if not for the lingering feelings I have beneath my eyes, behind my thumping chest, and my frozen fingertips. 

I closed my eyes without a reason. In the dusk visions I have, I can still remember the stillness of our house. The ornaments hung on the beige wall; the wide, yet gloomy, dark television; paintings of unknown artists placed as a mark of sophistication; the pellucid, shiny floor; and the soft couch sat with pillows. I could remember it all. I could hear the madness of Hershey's words, the slash of truth. In my memory, I could still hear the whimper of those dazzling eyes, the plea of their silence, their broken affliction. All of it. It was not misty. It was all clear.

There is a silence within the house. I caught the glimpse of those dazzling eyes in my mind. I smiled, reluctantly. 

Hinintay ko ang pagdating ni lola. Hinintay ko siya na tila isa akong batang walang tahanang matatakbuhan. 

I sat on the couch, melancholy. I placed my phone beside my leg and watched the ceiling whirl before my eyes. I could feel how feverish I was. My head exploded in flames, my body burned by heat. When they were gone, I could not push myself to slump on the floor. I was shocked that I remained still, standing lifelessly, as if my life had been taken away from me. There was a battle between the afternoon light and the darkness of the night. It was as if I thought it was the end of my beginning.

There was, and there will never be, peace for those who live. Only those who had died would know how tranquil life could be. I shivered at the faintest breath of air. Seconds, and seconds, I could feel the skyline falling on me, like a ray of sun clinging to an inch of my skin. It was hot.

There was no anger, bargaining, or depression. There was only denial in my head. I do not know when I became paradoxical. I do not know when I realized how little I was loved by the people I adored. It did not make sense to me at all. There was fright within my eyes. I was afraid that if I let myself be eaten by such lovely emotions, the person I might adore might see me less. Since I was a child, I learned to live alone and to love alone.

The sacred door before my eyes began to creak, telling me that my home was now here. I stood immediately and waited for my grandmother's presence. Time began to cry, and I saw her, wearing a green, simple dress, kissed by an emerald necklace. My lips trembled. I was in vain until this moment. It was as if I had not seen her in ages. The neatness of her dark shoes began to step on the floor. My eyes wavered. 

"Momma!" I uttered her name with a hint of pain. 

I crawled my arms around her wrinkled body, as if I were clinging to my last breath. If I could stanch the wound of my soul, I would have done it already. Yet I was powerless. I was not a god. Sweat-streaked, I closed my eyes again. I could roll the dice in my eyes and still be blinded by the amount of pain I have experienced. I thought I had uncovered the meaning of ache, but there was more.

I paused. I felt her hands on my back, tapping me with such warmth. Slowly, she brushed the strands of my hair. My heart leaped.

"You missed me already?"  

I think I like it when her voice speaks through my eyes. I could feel the contrast in her voice. It was somewhere between soprano and alto, soft and somewhat low. The fiasco of my dread had somehow vanished, yet there were still remnants of shame and mockery within my head. It felt as if there was a laugh of trauma in my ears. I could hear them all.