XLIX - Rhumb Line

106 9 10
                                    

A regularly curved line on the surface of the Earth which cuts all meridians at the same angle; a steady course taken by aircraft along one compass bearing.

* * *

I struggle to actually have a calming sleep. However, whenever I succeed in doing so, I continue having dreams of César. It will be easy to deal with them if it had been those happy ones; some sort of memory or possible what-ifs that despite the fact that they'll hurt me upon waking up, it will give me some hope that they could've been the future in the first place. However, even that small request can't be granted at all.

Even though I am not given a very detailed description of everything that happened, my mind conjures images that filled in the gaps.

Victor mentioned that he saw César landing his Peashooter, managed to run away from the plane for safety until a Japanese Zero ground strafed him, and fell on to the previous' arms before breathing his last with memories of me. With the presence of Capt. Villamor, Godofredo and Manuel—whom I've known had been in Batangas in the first place—right at Nichols that afternoon, is definitely not just because they heard of César's death; it only means that even Batangas Airfield had been bombed and suffered immense destruction. Additionally, having to see the extent of the mortal wounds that César received, definitely leading to blood loss and punctured organs beyond repair...

My dreaming had then been otherwise creative. A foul move of it to conjure such a nightmare that I don't want to relieve, but those I am force to take in.

Because it is proving to me time and time again that I've been a fool myself. That the world where a man such as Elian Basa exists, finding Maj. Zablan alive, and meeting all others I know of to be there in that respective plane... is one vision that my mind had made on its own. A possibility that, for a moment, I dread happening with how happy I've been living my life with César. And now that it had been proven to be the biggest delusional dreaming of mine, it is too much to wish that it had been reality instead than this.

This... the world where César Basa, a lieutenant of the Philippine Army Air Corps, an ace pilot of the Sixth Pursuit Squadron, and my supposed-to-be future husband, had died... is actually my reality. I've been living the past few months in absolute bliss that it all feels like a dream; and looking on it right now, it is definitely like that.

"(Y/N)," I keep hearing César, and for some reasons, every single time that I close my eyes and I continue seeing him dying right there as he whispers my name... It is strange but it had just been a day since the last time I've seen him so alive and just a few hours of seeing him dead... And I am already starting to forget what his voice actually sounds like.

My heart definitely knows it; but my nightmare now overlaps with what I remember. That hearing my own name is even now foreign to me.

Strange... I don't know who I am without César. All I know is that I love him. And now that he's gone, I loved him.

A day is yet to pass fully that I'll wake up in cold sweat, cry then for how much the pain is too much to bear, exhausting myself that lead me to another nightmare, and be in equal repeat.

In the end, knowing that I will not be able to properly have any good sleep at all, I decide to just lie down on the bed until I've dried my eyes. And before I know it, the sun is starting to appear once more; telling me that it had been a day that I've taken the news of César's passing, definitely still in denial, and tomorrow, it could have been otherwise. After all, if it hadn't been for that of yesterday, tomorrow, I'm supposed to find myself as a married woman.

But that isn't the case. I live, and César didn't.

* * *

I then receive a good scope of what happened yesterday. Someone seems to have finally managed to piece everything together for the stories to spread around, and then be imprinted as part of today's newspaper article.

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