The Heaven's Wildcard

MAURICE II

A PIECE OF PAST II

I never felt this betrayed.

As it turned out, Yuri used an advance directive that he didn't want to be resuscitated in case the worst happened.

How could he do that to me? How could he not tell me? Why did he say he wanted to live with me and then leave? Maraming beses ko na gustong sumuko pero hindi ko ginawa. Why did he have to give up on himself?

I'm mad at him. I told myself that I wouldn't forgive him until he woke up and smiled at me again. But at the end of the day, I was left with his farewell letter. Hindi naman siya gumising at ngumiti pero bakit ang bilis ko siyang napatawad?

To my seven o'clock,

I'm starting this letter with the first thing I said to you when we bumped into each other—I'm sorry. I know that you're mad at me for not preparing you earlier. There's no way I would've told you that I don't want to be revived once I lose my heartbeat.

How could I? You have high hopes for me. If there's someone to give up last in our battle, it's you. You're tired but won't tell. You're exhausted but won't show. At times, you're hopeless, but you'd take a breath and come back hopeful. You've been my soldier in wars I couldn't win alone.

When we found out it was not just my heart that was responsible for my pain, I came up with the decision not to force things. It was so hard to make a choice, aware that I have to think about all of you too. I don't want to burden Mama, Clo, and you anymore. Even if I undergo an operation, the brain tumor will make it hard for me to get back to normal, Mauve. I'm aware of all the percentages, the probabilities, and the rates of failures and successes. And as much as I want to take the opportunity and try, there is someone else who needs the heart, someone who has a greater chance to live, someone who can live a good life.

I'm sorry, Mauve. I know this decision broke you. I promise to make it up to you next time. And thank you. Thank you for allowing me to spend the last days of my life with you. I will always be grateful to Kismet for tangling our strings that second day of November at seven a.m.. Waking up was the hardest thing to do, knowing that I'd have to work again, and wonder a little more about how it feels to wear a uniform and study. What if I had the privilege to afford education too? I could've helped you with your assignments when it was too hard for you to answer or sit and eat beside you during lunch, not just stare from a distance. I hated all my seven o'clocks. But eventually, as we repeatedly saw each other at seven, I was glad I had something to look forward to.

I'd be eternally happy, reminiscing our little memories, Mauve. Don't think about me too much. I don't want to be remembered. I want you to move on with life and forget me. So next time, when we meet again, I'll tell you my name like how I did. I'd have more confidence because I'm more than just a boy from your canteen university who can only give you the biggest piece of chicken. I'd treat you to good meals and buy you better gifts.

Maybe next time, Mauve, I'd be able to fulfill my promises. I'd have no disease and I wouldn't have to draw a line between us. Maybe next time, we'll spend more time together. But for now, I have to say goodbye.

I want you to make the most of this life. Make it pay for all the storms you've survived. May the hurricanes of the past become a gentle rain that you can dance with. Do the things you want. Smile more, cry if you must, rant, buy yourself an ice cream, and meet new people . . . fall in love. I'll be happy to hear all about it when we see each other again.