Pag-ibig na gusto mo, pero hindi pwede (one-shot writing contest)

Entry 2: Under the Tear-Streaked Sky

Under the Tear-Streaked Sky by XhenkaShunga in Teen Fiction

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Let me tell you a boring story.

Once upon a time, there was this girl who cried every single day we met. And I would be there to comfort her. End of story.

"Gee, can't you come up with a more interesting story?" you might say.

Hmmm . . . Well then, how about I tell you the story of the day that same girl stopped crying?

"What else is there to it?" you ask.

Truth be told, I’m not sure if I can tell the story accurately.

Because on that same day, I was the one crying.

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The first day we met, she was crying because of a stupid toy.

"You just don't understand it, Will!" she shouted at me after she had told me the story and I just laughed at her.

"Oh, I really don't," I agreed. "You're eighteen and you still care about those toys that have been around since the dinosaurs went extinct. Yeah, I really don't get it."

"You're hopeless!"

"Enlighten me."

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "That was a gift from Mom before she passed away," she said, sniffing. "And my demonic cousins had the nerve to sell it on spring cleaning day!"

"Calm down, it's just a toy. It's not like it is limited edition or anything. What was it again? A Hello Kitty stuffed toy. With a pretty pink bow and polka-dotted skirt. C'mon, Luce, if it so pains you, then buy another."

"See? This is precisely why you're hopeless, Will! You don't get the way a girl's feelings work!"

"Obviously. I'm a guy, in case you haven't noticed."

She rolled her reddened eyes. "Oh please, shut the sarcasm. I really don't need it right now."

She leaned against an oak tree and kept her head down. I inched a little closer and wrapped an arm around her. "Look, Luce," I said, "if you're going to cry over such a small thing, how are you going to survive the ones that are really worth crying over?"

She elbowed me hard in the rib. "Don't talk to me. I still hate you."

"Yeah, right." I shrugged and looked up at the sky. It was the nicest shade of forget-me-not blue. The clouds were white and puffy and a bit popcorn-ish (if that was even a word), and the sun was bright and shining. Basically, it's what you call a really fine day.

See? Even the heavens didn't understand her petty tears.

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