Complicated

Chapter 16

I whistle for Jellybean to go to me, but he doesn't. I've been scared of this moment since I was little, I thought of it a long time ago, considering that I am a pessimist. I search for him, I almost turned the whole house upside down. I wipe my tears off my face. I really am unsure of why I cried. 'Must be my depression' I think. I treat depression as some sort of incurable disease that causes side effects. Like...... Cancer. 

I sigh, and I give up on it. Maybe this day was destined, for him to be lost into oblivion. Just like tom. He's destined for something, or someone, and I just can't stop that from happening. I grab a bag of potato chips from the cupboard and head upstairs as if nothing has been taken away from me. I turn on the television and click through the channels. And I stop at one, a movie was playing. It was a love story. I click the remote more and more as I miss the presence of a particular furry and chubby companion. I stuff more and more potato chips in my mouth, hoping that the saltiness of the latter help fade away the memories of Jellybean in my mind.

Next thing I know, i am printing flyers saying: Missing: Fat Corgi named Jellybean. I am grabbing some tape and staples, and heading off outside wearing a thick coat. My breathe can be easily seen in an atmosphere like this. It's like being inside of a refrigerator.

I start off in the park, and then the surroundings of our neighborhood. Jellybean could've not gone that far. I still have some hope in me. My legs start to shake and go numb as I staple the last flyer in the bark of a tree. I breathe into my hands, and walk home. As much as I felt hopeful a while ago, now, I feel that seeing Jellybean will be when pigs fly.

As soon as I reach our house, i go straight upstairs and didn't even bother to answer my mother's question. I didn't even understand what she was saying, anyway. I eat the unfinished bag of potato chips and cover my pain with its flavor. As I continue to drug myself with oil and artificial flavoring covered deep fried strips of a tuberous root, I doze of into oblivion, hoping that when I wake from my sleep, I'll feel Jellybean's warm and thick golden fur.

The next few days have, again, been a blur, due to the uttermost pain of loss devouring me. it has been 2 weeks since Tom's temporary disconnection to me, and Jelly bean's still nowhere to be found. I'm practically a walking zombie.

Jenny has been there for me, and yes, I still attend my classes, but it's just not the same without a guy friend who'll cheer you up with his gorgeous face and some tater tots. And now, it's Miss Grey's class, and boredom is circulating in our classroom instead of oxygen and carbon dioxide does. And Tom's just entered the goddamn classroom. Pain just took a big, big bite into my heart. 

Followed by Miss Grey, the F-eating dragon of cruelty, as Tom said. she's blabbering a thousand useless words about her favorite poem, a goddamn poem she's been telling us since first semester. I've been doodling a grotesque figure of a cat to comfort the wrenching pain inside of me. And I feel a finger poking my shoulder blade. It was slender. The owner of that hand has brunet hair and emerald green eyes. The owner of that hand has been a wonderful companion since we met. The owner of that hand asked me if I like penguins. And most importantly, the owner of that hand can never be mine, for he is already someone's.

"Hey." I whisper, the coldness in my voice not obvious. "I haven't seen you in a while. Every plan we have was cancelled. Wanna try try again later? Kalia's out of town, sooo..." he says, trying to keep the friendship close. "I'd like that." I say as I smile, since because of this offer, hope has just knocked on my door.

Miss Grey didn't show up after all. We threw sheets of paper up into the air as the student body president announces it, pretending that we're in a high school musical. As cliche as it can be, Tom drags me out of the classroom to catch up with my miserable, miserable life.

 "Ave, what the heck is going on with you." he asks. I shrug, and he's obviously not satisfied with that gesture. "It's...... It's........ Jellybean's........ gone." I tell him, and he pulls me into a hug. My whole body suddenly feels numb, and it feels like I've been pushed into oblivion and I'm continuously falling, as I break into sobs. It's actually really nice to let it all out. To let all the pain trapped inside finely reach the state of being free. Yes, I've cried before, but discreetly. Now, I can do it in front of a person while he's giving me a warm and sincere hug. 

He takes my hand just as we did when we were young, like when we go home every time we play in the mud. He'd offer me his handkerchief, and I'd wipe it on his face instead of mine. I cared, oh, I cared like hell to him, and I assume that he does to. This fact, this simple little fact, and accepting it, is a small step to forgiving and to forgetting. To forgetting every single time I hoped, for every single time I wished that there would be a word called "us".

The next thing I know, I'm stuffing my face with chocolate mint ice cream. He continues on with listening to me nag about the things that I've been doing, since we did hang out to "catch up". He stares at me wide eyed as I talk about Jenny and how she's depressed because of his current relationship status, and a wondrous idea just came into my mind. "Tom, what if you sort of 'apologize' to Jenny then hang out with her?" I suggest. "What?" he says as some of the vanilla ice cream falls from his lips. "You know, I know you feel bad for making her depressed, so why not take this opportunity to do so?" I say. He stares at the window for a while and sighs. "Fine. I don't have a choice anyway." he answers. "YES! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I tell him and hug him across the table.

At least I can make Jenny happy. I'd like her to be happy instead of her in constant depression. 

We walk down the sidewalk to our neighborhood, and we randomly talk. Just like how we used to. Just like before. And the sad part about walks is that it ends in some point, and it does. We stop in front of  our house, and he waves his hand goodbye. He gestures for 'Call me', and I give him a thumbs up.

You know, the thing about faith is that it's humorous. It's like blood. It runs through you, but you won't feel a thing about it. Just like faith. You have it, but you just don't feel it.