Lost and Found ✓

v. hart (end)

HART

I look back at Aziel when we reach my apartment. He's still at the door, looking hesitant.

"You can come in, Aziel. I'm not gonna eat you."

Seemingly embarrassed, he walks to where I am.

"So you also live alone, Hart?" he asks, his gaze roaming around my place.

I hum in response. "Is that surprising?"

Shaking his head, Aziel answers, "Not really. It's just that I pegged you as a family-oriented person, so I thought you'd be living with your parents."

The statement draws a laugh from me. A bitter, contemptuous one. Of all the things that he could have assumed about me, it has to be that I am a family-oriented person. I am a lot of things, but family-oriented is not one of them. I wouldn't have stayed away from that place for years if I were.

"Do you love your family, Aziel?" I want to know. "Well, I am pretty sure that you do love your sister at least, but how about the rest of your family? Wasn't there ever a time that they made you feel like shit so much that you thought you'd be better off without them in your life?"

For a person who has assumed that I am loyal to his family, the question must have come as a surprise to Aziel. He appears anxious when he replies to me, "No, I mean, I admit my family is not perfect. They do things and have beliefs that I don't agree with. And honestly, I still have hard feelings toward them because of what happened to Ariel. There are also times when they get on my nerves to the point that I wish they would just leave me alone. But for what it's worth, they're still–"

"They are still your family," I cut in, knowing exactly what he was trying to say. "And you feel obligated to love them because they are your own blood. Especially with your parents, you believe you're indebted to them because they were the ones who brought you up in this world, and you'd be an ungrateful child if you don't pay them back by continuing to please them. Never mind the fact that you didn't ask to be born, that you had no choice then but to be born."

Seeing the way Aziel is dumbstruck by my statement, I figure I must have hit the nail on the head. With a smile, I want to assure him that we're not here to argue about how we view our family.

I turn away from him and then gesture at the small couch in my apartment. "You can sit here, Aziel. Do you want me to get you a drink?"

"No. I'm fine." Aziel sits down, and I do the same. "I just want to talk about what you told me in the hospital. What did you mean when you said it doesn't matter to you if you die today or tomorrow? What do you mean you don't care about your life, Hart?"

My answer comes easily. "I mean exactly what I said."

I have come to the realization that while I invited Aziel here to my place to talk, I am not certain if I am ready to tell him everything. Maybe it was on a whim that I asked him to listen to my story because I thought it could make him feel assured, seeing how worried he was about me. But now that we're here, I'm not sure about myself anymore. "I don't care about my life."

"But I care." There is that determination in his eyes again that makes me inevitably smirk when I see it. He said he's always admired me for being honest, but I think he's just as transparent, if those pretty eyes are anything to go by.

Turning my attention to the corner of my apartment, I stare at the old guitar, which is carelessly placed between my study table and the wall. It brings back so many memories. Some make me feel satisfied when I recall them; others I don't even want to remember anymore.

I look back at Aziel only to see him staring at me as if he's waiting for me to say something. As I lean back on the couch, I start to speak. "You're probably the first person who made me feel like I matter, the first person who cared for me. Genuinely, that is. My own family wasn't even able to do that."