Maine
"Alam mo, hindi ko pa natatanong sa 'yo kung saang floor ka nakatira," Alden asked me one afternoon as we sat outside an ice cream shop, eating a sad looking sundae cone.
"Bakit mo kailangan malaman?"
"Kasi nga, curious ako."
I don't understand his curiosity about me. I'm practically a nobody in this world and he seemed–well, he seemed like the kind of guy who has the world at his feet.
I've been spending time with him. I don't quite understand what I'm starting to feel, but he makes me feel like myself most of the time. I haven't let the darkness take me, it's been weeks since I last felt it and I suppose I'm just enjoying the way this is making me feel.
"I live on the 8th floor," I tell him as we ride the elevator of our building and he nods, pressing the right button. "Ikaw?"
"Sa 12th," he replied, just as the doors opened to my floor. Alden is a gentleman–he walked with me to my door, waiting for me to get in.
I decide to invite him inside, knowing that I think I've given him enough trust to have him in my house.
"Do you want to come in?"
Alden stopped in his tracks, looking intently at me. I keep the door wide open and his eyes flick over my head, checking out the inside of the condo.
"Talaga?" He questions, a small smile playing on his lips. "Papapasukin mo ako?"
"Kelangan ba tagalog lagi pag tatanungin kita? Tinagalog mo lang yung tanong ko eh."
He laughed as he stepped inside my home, shuffling his feet nervously.
"Sorry," he smiled softly. "Di ko lang kasi talaga inexpect."
"Na papapasukin kita sa bahay?"
Alden shook his head. "Oo. At saka you trust me enough to invite me to your home."
He's standing in the middle of my living room looking like he belonged there. It's been a while since I've had company around this place, this empty, soulless place I call home.
"Sobrang ikaw na ikaw ang condo na 'to," Alden observes, smiling at the framed artworks I've done before. He notices the signature at the bottom and he smiles at me, pointing happily at them. "Gawa mo? Ang galing!"
I used to be creative. I was happy making art with color–I dreamed of making this my life. When things happened, everything became dark and twisted, and I felt nothing. I couldn't create anything. I couldn't even do anything.
"Alam mo, ang amazing mo," he says as he walks through each framed work, looking at them closely before walking to sit beside me. "Dapat hindi mo tinatago ang talent na ganto. Sobrang daming nangangarap na maging kasinggaling mo."
He's all praises, but most of them just fly over me.
"I don't think there's anything to be desired about me," I say, fingers tapping rhythmically on the table. "I'm not normal–plus, there isn't anything worth finding in me. I don't matter to the world, and siguro nasanay na ako na ganon."
"Of course you have worth. You're a beautiful girl and you're smart–"
"And empty," I remind him, patting his thigh thoughtfully. "I don't need the nice words, Alden. I know myself–well, sort of. I really can't offer much aside from breathe air."
Alden shakes his head and stands up, choosing to walk around my small living room. He walked up to my bookshelf, looking interestedly at the single framed photograph displayed there.
"Patay na yan lahat," I say and he spins quickly, nearly knocking his head on the side of the shelf. I shrug, tucking my knees to my chest as I wrapped my arms around myself. "Car crash, dapat susunduin nila ako nung araw na yan."
Some people say I was lucky for not being in the car when the accident happened. They say that it probably still wasn't my time and that I should be thankful for the life I'm still living. It sounds a lot like a romanticized version of life, but for me, every single day that I see myself alone reminds me that life isn't forgiving. It will take what it can get and it will take everything until you're left gasping for air–asking for mercy to be let off the pain. I know it sounds dramatic, but every day, every time I wake up, it always feels that way.
"Nauna daw nawala si Papa, sabi nung first responder," Alden picked up the frame, staring intently at our last family picture. "Si Mama, tsaka yung dalawang kapatid ko–yung Ate ko, si Catherine, tsaka yung bunso, si Mico–umabot pa daw sa hospital. Pero siguro mga ten minutes lang daw, tas wala na din."
I chuckle darkly, rolling my eyes. Ten minutes of being alive. I didn't even know they were all dead until an hour after.
"Bakit wala kang kasama dito?" He placed the photo back to where he found it and sat beside me. "Asan yung ibang family mo?"
"Wala."
"Anong wala? Siguro naman may titos or titas ka... kahit pinsan?"
"You know how people are so... awkward about things they can't understand? Ganyan, ganyan ang family ko. People don't know what to do with sad people, you know?"
Alden reaches out for my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine. I hate to admit it, but I've come to like the way his touch makes me feel like I'm myself again.
My arms are laid open and his fingers trace the old marks of my pain, of old wounds that have healed.
"You make me want to stop thinking about death," I tell him and he looks at me straight in the eye. "Matagal tagal ko na din kasing hindi iniisip."
"Is that a bad thing?" His thumb grazes my pulse point and I can feel the blood rushing through me. "Masama ba, na hindi mo na naiisip na mawala sa mundo?"
"I–" My eyes close when he leans forward, kissing me on the forehead. I sigh. "I honestly don't know, Alden."
Alden
Here's something that my mother told me when she was in the midst of filing for a legal separation from my father. She once said, "Anak, love is something that you hold on to even in the toughest of times. You fall in love, because that is what you truly feel, and you don't fall in love just because you like the idea of it. Love is not safe. It never is, and it never will be. It will hurt you and burn you and it will break you even at your strongest."
I asked her why love wasn't enough to save their marriage. And my mother said, "Because I fell in love with falling in love, and not the person I claim to have fallen in love with."
That was the end of our discussion and the last time I saw my mother in our home.
Maine is not the type of girl I should be falling in love with. She is the antithesis to everything that I wanted in a girl but there is something in her that draws me in wholly and completely.
She's a mess–at least, that's what she says. She's insecure and scared and she wants to be alone. She feeds on the things that she shouldn't be wallowing in and she hurts herself just to feel. I don't want to be her Superman, but there's something in her that makes me want to protect her–from everything. Even herself.
We're back in the coffee shop and we found ourselves a quiet corner to stay in. She's plugged her earphones on and her nose is buried in a book and I'm here, spending my time watching her. There are coffee stains on her notebook and her head is bopping to the beat of whatever music she's listening to, and I'm just at awe at how beautiful this broken girl is.
"Stop staring," she says without even bothering to look up. "It's getting to me."
"Sorry, I don't have anywhere else to look."
Maine lifts her head, narrowing her eyes at me. "Nananadya ka."
"Nagpapasadya talaga," I grin back, earning a hefty eye-roll from her. I smile.
Good God, I'm falling in love.
