Metanoia

Metanoia Special Chapter 3

—married life from JM's perspective

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Moira Dela Torre

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A blinding light welcomed my vision when I woke up.

Another day.

I was about to get up when I heard a grumble beside me.

There he was, my gorgeous husband, Hariel, clinging to me. His arm was wrapped around my waist and his face buried on my neck.

My lips tugged into a smile.

Another day with him.

"Hariel," I called, but he only inched closer to me, making me chuckle.

I hummed as I ran my fingers through his hair.

Who would have thought we would end up together?

Parang kailan lang, university students lang kami.

Malinaw ko pa ring naaalala ang unang beses na nakita ko siya.

It was a slow morning like today during our freshmen year. The squad was talking about gossip from around the university, while I quietly listened as I looked around.

Then, this tall figure caught my attention.

Tila walang nakakakita sa kanya, and I somehow understood, because from a distance, he seemed like a normal student.

But when you look closely, you can see a strong aura from him, like that of power, or plain attractiveness if we would look at other people's perspective.

"Sino 'yun?" tanong ko sa aking mga kasama. "Parang ngayon ko lang siya nakita," and I almost know everyone by face by now.

Tiningnan ko sila habang sinundan nila ang tinuro kong daan at liniitan ang kanilang mga mata para makita siya.

"Teka lang, alalahanin ko lang," sabi ni Ella. I jumped a little when she suddenly snapped her fingers. "Hariel Buenavista. Anak nung CEO Buenavista. Kilala mo naman siguro si CEO, 'di ba?" I nodded. "Mapag-isa kaya wala masyadong presence, pero nandiyan siya kapag tinitigan mo," sunod-sunod nitong banggit.

I stared at him a little longer before resuming to look around.

The second time I saw him was when I was at the university's chapel.

The clock hit 12 noon. I remember breaking down because of all the things in my head. I remember silently begging for God to help me, to help lessen the heaviness I was feeling. I remember having a hard time breathing, tears continuously falling down as I sobbed and held my neck when the difficulty started.

I remember seeing him in front of me, offering his handkerchief. He was not looking at me; his gaze was on the windows of the chapel overlooking the hallway, but he moved his hand once when I only stared at him, beckoning me to get the hankie.

I laughed as I recalled that moment. I was a sobbing mess at that time, and it took me minutes before I recognized him and noticed his handkerchief.

It now lies in one of my scrapbooks as a memento.

And after that, I kept on seeing him, which I thought was weird, but then I shrugged and thought that it was normal since we were in the same uni and it happens with other strangers, too.

I tried giving him a new handkerchief, but something was stopping me from doing it.

Until years passed, and I eventually forgot about it.

"Hmm," I hummed as another memory entered my mind.

During university times, when I was not busy, a lot of negative thoughts would resurface in my mind—thoughts that almost made me convince myself I was crazy.

"Why am I having these thoughts when others are having a harder time than me?" I often asked, but it did not help me get better.

That was when I saw the clubhouse and made it a place to vent my feelings. It became a safe space, and remained so even though Hariel came (which was unexpected).

It was kind of ridiculous when I think about it, telling my innermost thoughts to a stranger instead of close friends. But it was freeing, and I was not in the condition to tell them about what I was feeling at that time.

Hariel saved me much more than the numbers he thought he did, and for that, I am forever grateful.

I love him, and I will love him as long as I exist.

I will love him as myself, as the children we will have in the future, as the art I created, am creating, and will create, as the flowers in our haven, and as the wedding ring on his finger. I will be with him through the wind that embraces him whenever it can, the rays of the sun that give him warmth, the leaves that drop on him, and the rain that whispers sweet nothings to him.

I giggled again. Ang corny naman.

I felt Hariel move. When I looked at him, he was sleepily blinking.

I smiled. "Good morning."

"Good...morning..." he whispered as he closed his eyes again and tightened his hug. I stroked his hair once more.

"I love you."

"Mmm," he murmured and moved to kiss my forehead. "I love you, too, so much," he said before returning his head to my neck. "Love you."

A few seconds later, I noticed he was breathing gently and evenly.

I snuggled up to him and went back to sleep, too.

How I love slow mornings like this.