Colection of Randomness

Sickened by the taste of wiskey and wine

“Tawag ko sa kanya, Jao, at tawa naman niya sa ‘kin, Mikai.” Sen says and he giggles.

The shot glass is put down in a table with a loud thud. It is made of glass, easily breakable. I have this desire to smash it on Sen’s face, hear it break and ensure its shattered pieces impale him bloody.

They say, what you never have, you can never lose. But why do I feel I'm losing something. Something I hold close to my heart and it hurts me deeply as it goes. The more it drifts away, the sharper the pain feels.

I closed my eyes and in the darkness of my mind, I saw him. The one person I ever loved. The one person I desired, that I let myself fall never knowing the fall would be far too deep.

Had it been a day? A week? A month? No, it is more than a year.  More than a year has passed when he rebuffed my feelings. Shouldn't time have healed my wound or even ease the pain I endure? It should have. But why every time, even now, it hurts me to think he can never love me.

I hear Sen laughed again. I know he is only joking about those endearments he claims to have been called by him. But, I feel jealous. I'm mad. And I'm hurt. Hurt too long that my body develops an auto shut down response and pulls me away from this gut wrenching agony. I can already feel my eye lids weigh heavier. Why does this always happen to me?

Karen took the shot glass and drunk it empty. She then gave me the empty glass. Should I drink another shot? I knew the alcohol would numb this pain. But I can't. I lost my appetite.

“Dali na bakla.” She encourages when I didn't take the glasses.

But I can't do this anymore. Even the promise of momentary remedy sounds weak even to my illogical heart. I pushed the glass away and said, “Ayoko na.”

I know she understood it as my refusal to drink. But to me, it meant my refusal to remain being hurt. It sounds crazy to me because I know how much I love him. But main thing is I won't be scared to be hurt trying to climb out of love. Not for a love that remains unrequited.

I watch my classmates lose themselves to the bottles of whiskey and wine, pretending I'm having the time of my life while stopping the tears threatening to bawl.