Surviving Sorrow

Chapter 4

A week has passed since Andrea and I shared that night. But since then she kept repeating the same question every time we see each other; How am I?

It’s getting annoying. I always give her the same answer since yet she repeats the same question every time she sees me. I’m fine. And I am genuinely fine. But the way she asks me not only makes me feel like a child who can’t answer right, she also makes me feel like I can’t be trusted to answer honestly.

Doesn’t she trust me to be honest with her?

But no matter how annoyed I am, I’m not mad with Andrea. She’s only asking because she’s concerned of me. And for a long time nobody was. Which is why every time she asks, I make it a point to show to her that I am. Because I wouldn’t have been fine without her.

She also asked fewer and fewer questions about me and Leah. We often spoke more of how our day is than my relationship with Leah. We shared each other’s times more as friends than just someone who was once associated with Leah.

And it feels right. I know it’s right. There aren’t a lot of times that she and I spent with each other but there’s this connection that I know she and I have.

Is it wrong that I found some comfort with accepting Leah’s death through Andrea’s presence? This feeling of being at ease also brings me guilt. For what reason, is what I’m trying to figure out. I hadn’t forgotten Leah. She would always be the love that I never had the chance to keep, but Andrea is bridging me back to who I am before Leah.

Andrea was different from Leah. More than how I thought she was. But every day, I’m getting to know more about their difference than their similarity. Bits and pieces of her started showing and I was beginning to be familiar with it.

I’m currently working on finishing writing final details for my first draft of my paper when she called out. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes when I looked over because that was how she usually started when she’s about to ask me how am I.

I looked down again on my laptop and continued on what I was doing. “I know Andrea, I’m okay, see?” I automatically answered without meeting her eyes.

“Good to know, but I’m not going to ask you that.”

That kind of piqued my interest. “Oh. Sorry. It sort of became a habit.” I saved the document and closed the lid to face her. “So, what were you going to ask me?”

“Jose is inviting us to play badminton after classes, I was wondering if you would like to come?”

“Badminton?”

“A few of the guys at class said that you once belonged to the badminton varsity of the university. I figured that you’ll want to brush up on your skills and exercise a few of those muscles.”

“Would you be coming?”

“Yeah. It would be good for my health to play a little too.:”

“Sure, I’ll come.”

I had to admit, it was nice playing again. The last time I played was back in March before exams ended. I played against Leah and some of our friends.

After she died, I couldn’t pick-up a badminton racket again. She and I both enjoyed this sport so much that by just seeing anything related to badminton brings back memories of Leah. I pretended that I’ll be leaving the team because I wanted to focus more on my studies since I’ll be having my thesis. The truth though is that I couldn’t help but remember that Leah loved this sport.

It was about an hour of playing that I took a break. Not playing for months had decreased my stamina. I went over to where I left my things were and searched for my sports drink. Looking over at my side as I drank, I saw Andrea, securing the ties of her shoes and stretching. She’s also holding a racket. I walked toward her.