Love in the Time of Vanity Fair

Chapter 10: Esquire

The other shoe.

We live in apprehension of this imaginary shoe. Whenever we achieve a semblance of happiness, we tend to worry that what we may be experiencing may be too good to be true so we expect something wrong to happen. We were raised with the idea that the world is round and what goes about comes about. We find happiness, we lose it and the cycle goes on. More often than not, we tend to capitalize on the fear that comes with losing something precious that we close off ourselves and build walls to protect our vulnerabilities. And then people come into our lives and shatter those walls into rubbles.

During the Second World War, soldiers had this talk about a man named Murphy who created a law where everything that can go wrong will certainly go wrong. Whoever this Murphy is, I find myself wanting to strangle him for even thinking of this abominable law.

Everything was great. It felt like nothing can go wrong. And then the other shoe dropped

...

I find myself waking up to blindingly bright lights and the whir of machines.

Everything hurt and I felt tired. Funny because I felt like I just spent a whole damn lifetime sleeping and still woke up like I was run over by a truck.

My eyes adjusted to the surroundings and my nose caught a whiff of the smell of sterile walls. I felt a hand against mine and I saw Ian sitting asleep in a very uncomfortable position, his face weary and exhausted, holding unto my hand, seemingly afraid to let go.

I saw an IV line attached to my hand and I tried to recall what happened that had landed me to a hospital bed.

I was driving home and Ian was keeping me company via phone when my brakes didn't function as they were supposed to. I managed to chuckle over the irony of things. No matter how careful you are, wala ka pa rin talagang takas sa mechanical failure.

I lifted my free hand and smoothed over Ian's hair causing him to stir. He opened his bleary eyes. It took him a second to focus before he became frantic. He called to someone who was apparently standing by the door, something about informing the doctor that I was awake before he went back to me planted kisses on my hand.

"You're awake" he whispered, as though gauging whether he was still befuddled from his state of sleep deprivation and his mind was playing tricks on him. Lines were drawn over his forehead and he looked like he was going to fall down from exhaustion any minute.

"I'm okay" I assured him before the room was filled with people.

Mom and dad entered and let out a cry of relief when they saw that I was awake.

"She is alright and will be recovering in no time" the doctor assured but Ian exploded.

"How could she be alright when she has a fractured leg?!" bulyaw niya and my Mom went to his side to try and calm him down.

My left tibia incurred a hairline fracture, which is not that serious compared to the injury other people incur when they are involved in a vehicular crash. I'd have to wear a cast and use crutches for a couple of weeks but other than that and a couple of bruises I was fine. My driving wasn't that fast to begin with and my seat belt was on, most of the impact was held off by the airbag. I was thanking my lucky stars that I almost escaped unscathed but Ian and his bout of anxiety were not easy to assuage. He was practically there when the crash happened, heard everything on his side of the phone, and his action was screaming of guilt for not being able to do anything to stop it. I was out for a couple of hours post-crash but he was awake during the entirety of it with his brain running haywire, imagining the worst.

He looked worn out having just flown for more than four hours running fast on adrenaline and he refused to let me out of his sight even for just a minute. I felt sorry for worrying him but he insisted that he was fine and that at that moment, I was thepriority. His sincere but indirect professions of love never fail to amaze me. He just sat there the entire night, sleeping on the same chair he was occupying when I woke up, holding my hand.