Love Chromosomes

XX: The Morning After

I feel so light headed after reading all about it. I find it hard digesting all the information I just discovered. So the person who came back in Thailand was the other twin, Mark. It was the same person who easily accepted my reasons for breaking up with him that day he firt appeared in the University making me believe he was Masa. No wonder everything about him since then became so strangely unfamiliar. He was behaving like himself all along while he asked questions about how his twin brother was like when we were dating. He was being Mark and I was so stupid to ignore all those hints he gave me. He even jokingly told me about himself dying in Japan and how he opened up about the evil twin brother thingy.

But who would have thought all this could happen? How can I suspect anything when I have no idea that someone like Mark exists in my boyfriend's life? Masa did not tell me about having a twin brother. Why? Why did he conceal this vital information about him? Did his friends know about Mark? Did he even tell a single soul here in Thailand about his twin brother that lives in Japan?

My head started pounding again. There is only one way to find out the answers. It has to come from the mouth of the concerned person himself. I planned on asking Mark about all this but it ended differently after that encounter we had last night.

Instead of calming me down, the alcohol made me act like a beast, consumed me with so much anger for the of the betrayal and grief I experienced all at once.

I remember when P Axel knocked me out of my senses after I annoyed him so much with my drunken whinning. The next thing I saw was that person's face hovering above mine trying to wipe my face with a damp cloth to make me sober. The face that bores my dead lover's image looked at me tenderly with his beautiful eyes showing how he was all worried about me. My head though was clouded with the thought of his deceipt that I thoughtlessly hit him hard in his pretty face. The blow must have knocked him out of his consciousness that he was not able to fight back when I pressed him harshly on the bed and started assaulting him.

The thought of that action made me cringed as guilt punched me hard in my guts. I know he doesn't deserved to be treated like that no matter how big his sins were. I have hurt him bad. The blood stains in my sheets served as a reminder how much I have caused damage to his frail body. That act made me feel disgusted with myself. His crying face below me as I mercilessly thrust myself inside him will haunt me forever.

But I don't think I can forgive that person too easily. He can hate me all he likes for that revolting thing I did to him but I won't stop hating him myself.

I can't shake the thoughts in my head as to how he may have laughed at me after confessing my love for him. How did it made him feel when I expressed my feelings every time we were together? I must have looked so stupid in his eyes when I believed everything that he told me. He even said he loves me. Last night he repeated that again while he cried so hard and tried to reason out his actions.

He looked so convincing that I almost took him in my arms for a hug. For a split second I have considered forgetting everything and just continue pretending he really loves me. But then I remembered he used to take acting lessons when he was preparing to debut as a celebrity in Japan. I almost let him tricked me again with those well acted sobbing he showed infront of me. It's as if he was really sad and hurt from my rejection. As if his heart was also breaking when I spat on his face telling him I don't love him. His face was contorted in pain while he cried uncontrollably in front of me when I told him I hated him and wished him dead instead of his brother. Yes. I was plain brutal with my words to him last night. It was the only way to get back at him for what he did to me.

But doing all of that doesn't make me feel any better. The moment I shut the door at his face last night, I paced down back and forth in my room, stopping my urge to open my door again to check if the person I left slumped on the floor was still alive. He was bleeding. I bet he can't even stand as he wobbled in his feet when I hoisted him up my bed and dragged him out of my room.