Have you ever described yourselves as “two mad lovebirds”?
I did, on Feb 3. and through Feb 9 which was the only day that we dared to take pictures of us being together. Why only on that day and not any sooner? I don’t know. I can reminisce how epic fail our rendezvous was. I turned out to be mad at her for being impatient in waiting for me at the Church that I ended up lost in direction to where she was. oh goodness, my butterflies are asdsjfkdfdjvjfk…*clears throat* but yes, I can reminisce how awesome the tea was. How amazing it tastes like! *laughs* All I know is we are at my second home, just doing our usual thing, and I invited her to take selfies which, as it seems, a thing she’s also into.
Now, I know this “fail” novel should be written in a typical-descriptive-and-partly-narrative format but I don’t really care. I will tell you how Shan smiled at the camera and how her laugh sends an inner happiness in me that I still couldn’t describe until now. How cute her dimple was, and how I would repeatedly tell her, “hey, stop showing off your dimple.” And she’s like, with her dimple, saying, “I am not showing off my dimple!”
Then I would like to tell you how cheesy it feels like when she orders me, while doing the video, to say I love you. And I’m like, “what the heck. No way.” So it turned out that we stopped making the video midway while laughing.
You know how it feels like? No? Well, go get a decent lovelife! *LAUGHS OUT LOUD*
On that evening, it was as if we didn’t care how loud we were. How inconsiderate we were with the people studying for their exams.
It was like, “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us.”
***********
How time flies. February 14. It’s not a big day, nor a date I would mark on the calendar. But today it was marked as….*drum rolls* ….
PMT Day which means Pharmacy and Medical Technology Day. That’s the department I belong to. Which is kinda sucky cause people should be spending it with their lovey-doves but I spent it with the long queues in the outside courts cause I am an officer and I had to get the attendance. Boom! -___-“
That’s when everything turns out to be bad. It’s 4pm in the afternoon, and with the moist not-so-green grass beneath my tired soles, I swear it couldn’t get any worse when Shay, another supposedly-pretty-if-she’s-just-happy president, went up to me, carrying these white illustration boards with her very very very…very mad face. I don’t know if I smiled, or if the sun is just too bright that I wrinkled my face into a fake smile. But yes, I did make a face. The fucking lines ain’t moving, a friend of mine texts me to come after her because it just so happened that our departments had their department days on the same fucking day and that she’s lonely, and Shan’s coming but I’m still with this very very veryyyyy mad president.
Great. What are you supposed to do when the one whom you’re going to date with is all fresh and looking amazing while you look shitty and sweaty?
Well, I should be running with these white boards all tucked in my arms. But I didn’t. cause Shan just met Bee (my close friend) and asked where I am. And before I knew it, before I could escape from the shitty situation, Shan and Bee were approaching towards me- with Shan looking as fresh as the grass, and Bee as shitty as me. Because both of us are officers and we are under Ms. Very Very Very Mad President’s command.
As master of alibi though, I was able to slip through the shitty situation and hurried to the office upstairs to change my clothes.
Oh. And did I mention that I was hurriedly tiptoe-ing? It’s like I’m a burglar in white making these swift tiny footsteps just for Shay not to catch me escaping. And it was awful. Cause I don’t look any close to a burglar.
But what made it worst is that I honestly think Shan is not in the mood to come outside her house and spend the day with me. With my black and gold sweater, and her gorgeously hanging blouse that shows off the red Artemis tattoo on her back, we walked our way back to the university’s entrance. The afternoon sky washed off the orange hues with the water where you dip your paintbrushes with to clean them. It was awful. Like the skies hate Valentine’s Day itself.
“So, where are we going?” I mindlessly asked. Cause my brain would hurt from too much thinking.
“Where do you want?” she asks back.
Oh I know this familiar scene. It’s where the both of you throw the same questions at each other. Cause both of you are too tired to go. You just want to take a rest.
A nearby wooden bench positioned against the administration building wall offered as a place to think. And to throw the same questions again. I know something’s wrong. I can feel it.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, mindlessly again. This time my heart will hurt if she’ll say yes.
“Yes.” Oh God. My heart.
“What is it?” Then I remembered that there’s something she’s dealing with. “How did it go?”
“It was okay.” She sighed. “But I’m just stressed cause it’s not the school I want.”
“Then don’t go for it,” I said in a quick automatic response. “Choose what makes you happy.”
“I know, but-“
“But I thought, you were really planning to go for those kind of school. Y’know, the local ones.”
“Yes, but-“ she releases another sigh. Not of relief but of dismay.
I, too, was speechless. This is her future. Her career. And I don’t want to go bossy again. Or else she’ll go leave-me-alone-I-know-what-I’m-doing mood, and that will be the end of today. I ask myself, why on valentines? The only valentines that I can actually say, “hey, I have a valentine.” It sucks. Like the color of the late afternoon sky.
I don’t want to talk about it anymore. How the day went by. My family spent the night taking dinner at El Salvatore where I saw familiar faces too. It was raining then, as if the sky really went for it. I know that even the nature feels sad. I understand you, nature. What I don’t understand is, how I lied to my parents and told them that I was from school when actually I was out with somebody else. Then I realized that maybe Shan also lied to her parents too. She always gives me that you-know-what-i-lied-to-my-parents-again everytime we go home from a date. It sums up to a tormenting feeling, because it’s like I’m making her lie to her parents.
The next day, I was not even a notch happier. Cause I found out that she went smoking again. And it only means that she’s too depressed that only nicotine could help her.
As much as I couldn’t admit it, I was of no help. If I was, then I’m the least help she could ever get.
