Chances for a Bitter Writer (First Chance)

Chance (3)

Sa kahabaan ng usapan namin, hindi mawawala ang reklamo o pang-aasar nitong si Rio.

He always has a lot of ways to open that big fat mouth of him.

Tumayo na ako at nagpaalam sa kanila para magpahangin sa labas.

Dinala ako ng mga paa ko sa isang lumang park sa subdivision. Napabayaan na ito ngunit dinarayo pa rin ng mga bata kahit pa hindi nila magamit ang slide o see-saw.

It was here. It was where that little girl called her papa and mama. It is where she hugged them and they laughed together. But who was that child? Why is she in my dreams?

Pero bigla na lang akong nalungkot. These feelings might be from the frustrations I've been. It might be from the fact that I can't write what my readers want.

But do I really need to satisfy them? Do I really need to write what they want? What about me? What about my own perceptions and satisfaction? What about the reality behind all those fictional worlds? It was my main purpose why I'm doing this and yet I end up finding myself just to give them satisfaction

I was here like a fool, thinking about the girl whom I've never met, and hoping that I would be able to bring all my readers to the world away from the harsh realm of their existence.

But how can I do that if I feel so incomplete?

Sobrang random ng mga naiiisp ko kaya hindiko rin alam kung anong naging dahilan nang pagbigat ng pakiramdam ko.

Hindi ko na namalayan ang pagtulo ng aking mga luha. Hinayaan ko lang silang mahulog hanggang sa mapagod ako at pinunasan ito. Huminga ako ng malalim at tumayo pabalik sa bahay.

Nakayuko lang ako at tila wala sa'king sarili ngunit alam kong nasa bakuran na ako ng bahay ni Cortes.

"Malamig dito sa labas. Sana dinala mo ang jacket mo bago ka naglakad-lakad," sabi nito.

Napatunghay ako nang marinig ang boses niya.

"You don't need to wait for me," tugon kong nakayuko.

"I wasn't waiting for you. I was just looking at the stars, asking for their guidance for someone who seemed lost."

Napatingin ako sa direksyon niya.

"I'm not lost," diin ko rito.

"I didn't say you were," sabi nitong parang nasisiyahan sa panggugulo sa utak ko.

Cortes is always like this whenever I feel like running. Lagi niyang sinusubukang kausapin ako pero I stopped caring after losing so much of my memories.

Caring someone means having weaknesses and I can't be weak. The only thing that I've got is my life.

Hindi ko na siya pinansin at pumasok na ako sa bahay para magpahinga.

Pagpasok ko ng kwarto ay pabalik-balik na naglalakad si Mirah at bigla akong niyakap nang mahigpit.

"Where did you go? Do you have something in mind?"

"Hindi. I'm fine," tugon kong nakangiti. Kinuha ko ang maleta sa ilalim ng kama at nagsimula na mag-ayos ng gamit para sa unang araw ng bakasyon ko bukas.

"Do you miss them?" dahan-dahan niyang bigkas habang tinitingnan ang aking reaksyon.

Natigilan ako sandali pero agad din naman akong kumilos.

Mirah's good at reading people's emotion. Kaya lagi akong maingat sa pagbibigay ng reaction sa kanya. It's not that I don't want her to know what I am thinking. Of all the people I know, she is the only person I could trust.