It was her birthday.
I sat there on my bed. I just woke up. Still half-awake, I stood up and got tripped by my used clothes on the floor. I remember going out last night, to hang out with friends, got lost on the way, and met a beautiful girl. I looked at my bed, and there she was, lying there with her whole body wrapped in the sheets. She was dazzling.
"Pervert," she whispered as she slowly opened her eyes.
"You were awake all along?"
"Nope. Just when I heard your clumsiness." She smiled. It was an everyday smile. It was nothing special. There were no real feelings behind that.
"I have to go." I picked up my clothes. It was her birthday.
"Why? Don't you know that a woman's body is at her most prepared when she just woke up?" I looked at her with a smile. She was sex-craved. I wonder what happened in her life that made her into this.
"I have to go." This time I emphasized my words with a sense of real urgency.
"Fine. You can come back tonight if you want to." She made a seducing pose as she said those words.
---
It was her birthday. I went into her room. Everything were still in their proper places when I last came. Nothing much has changed, except for some collecting dust.
"Where were you last night?" mom asked as she opened the door behind me.
"Night out with friends."
"I called Jake, he said you weren't with them."
"Jake and company are not my only friends." Mom looked like she was about to burst, but held it all in. It was her birthday after all.
"Mom," I called as she was about to leave.
"Yes?"
"I'm gonna go visit her."
"Make sure you bring some food along. She loved that omelet you once cooked for her on her last birthday."
"Yeah, I'm gonna borrow the kitchen for a while."
---
The walk was long. I turned around the corner. A huge building was on my left. Although my destination was to the right, I decided to hang around for a while.
"Good morning, sir." The receptionist had a warm smile. She eyed me though, as if she was planning on continuing that affair we had a year ago. "How may I help you?"
"I'm here to visit someone."
"If you meant her, she's not here anymore."
"I know that. I'm visiting someone else." I walked past her. She did not have the courage to stop me. She might lose her job if she did so, if I revealed her secret.
After walking past a long corridor, I came into a garden. There in the center of it all, was a child on a wheelchair, holding a guitar with a broken string. She seemed to be waiting for someone.
"Hey," I called to her. She still remembered my voice. She turned around and then glared at me.
"Stay away!"
"Calm down."
"Staaaaay awaaaaay!" she shrieked. Everyone around stared at us.
"Sorry for the disturbance," I said as I pushed her wheelchair out of the place. I took her on a balcony. It had the view of the entire garden and the greenery beyond.
"This was her favorite spot," I said. The child suddenly started to sob. She stroked the guitar as of it was a pet.
"Why did she have to go?"
"It was inevitable."
"Why?"
"Because it is just so."
"I don't understand! She said she won't leave me!"
"There were circumstances. Not all promises can be kept."
"I hate her! I hate you! I hate all of you." I squatted in front of her and looked at her in the eyes.
"It's okay if you hate me. But I'm pretty sure I know you don't hate her."
"You don't know anything."
"Then why do you still cling on that guitar she left behind for you?"
"Because... because..." She started crying again. I took the guitar from her hands and tuned it. Although it was missing a string, I played a song that she loved. It was a song that did not require the broken string to be played. The child stopped crying and began swaying with the song.
"Where is she now?" She asked me after I stopped playing.
"I don't know either, because I can't be sure. All I know is, she regretted leaving you, but did not regret meeting you."
I parted with those words.
---
It was her birthday. I remember her playing that guitar with the broken string on special occasions. She never replaced the string, saying that it was what made it special. But she said that the real reason was, because it was the guitar I gave her. It was something I bought with the scant money I had from my grade school allowance, to give to her on her birthday. I played a song first before I gave it to her, then in the middle of the song, the string suddenly snapped. I cried saying that it was a big failure.
"No it's not," she said with the prettiest smile I have ever seen on her face. "You made me happy, and therefore it's a success right?" I just nodded.
"It's cute of you though, to work so hard to give me something for my birthday." She took the guitar from me and hugged it. "This is the most precious thing I'll ever treasure."
"I love you." The words just came out.
"I love you, too." She hugged me.
---
"You said we'd always be together. You even broke your promise with that kid. You said you'll treasure that guitar. Why'd you give it away? I don't understand you at all. You said you love me? Then who was that guy you were with?" I wiped the tears off of my face. I tried to hold the rest of my tears in. It was her birthday. She didn't answer.
"You were everything to me." I was already at a loss for words.
Then I remembered the last words she whispered in my ear before we went to sleep on her last birthday.
"Happy birthday, my beloved twin brother."
"Happy birthday." I couldn't stop the tears from flowing. It was such an embarrassing sight, right in front of her. I place the wrapped omelet on the marble stone along with flowers.
"I loved you," I whispered, "I still do." Then I took a deep breath, and walked away from the marble gravestone.
