Almost Maybes

Chapter 6

Despite the angry tone of his voice, bemusement was depicted on his face.

"Are you sure he blocked your social media accounts on purpose?"

"I'm not sure. I can't get to talk to him."

"What could be his reason?"

"I don't know. He's been busy with work, we aren't in touch anymore, maybe he's realized that being with me is a total waste of time."

"I thought you're not together."

"Yeah, we're not. I shouldn't be affected, but it sucks,"

"I talked to him last night,"

I waited for him to say that he was just trying to crack up a joke on me. He shook his head, "I'm not trying to piss you off, but it's true."

"Maybe he's doing that technological fasting thing," he added. "Or just occupied with his work."

Rex normally informed me beforehand if he had planned to disconnect from social media for a while. Blocking my social media accounts was not part of his technical fasting, he would just turn his phone off.

"You want me to talk to him?" he asked, implying that he would do it without my permission.

"I don't know."

"You can still breathe even without Rex. You can still smile without him. Don't let your world revolve around one person or thing. Rex may be your double happiness, but you still have friends, you have us, we can be your source of happiness too."

I wanted to ask him how he'd learned that I call Rex double happiness. I was too upset to ask about it.

"Eliseo, you're quite a good adviser just like mom."

I teased him implying that he can be a good teacher, the one whose major is good manners and right conduct. He did not mind at all the jokes I have cracked. Instead of being pissed, he pinched my cheeks.

"He'll change his mind and call you. Believe me, he will."

"How can you be so sure?"

He shrugged. "I just know."

I waited for him to say, because he likes you. He won't last a day without talking to you.

Instead, he said, "One thing is for sure, he will apologize to you. I'm betting my life on it," he added. "I bought you pastillas de leche. Try to have some to brighten up your mood."

I let him do the cheek pinching as long as he wanted to do it. He was being extra sweet to me.

"Thanks,"

That was how our conversation ended. A brother trying to be a good friend to his closest sibling, that was Kuya Ely's role in my life.

He left the area still trying to convince me to eat. But I was firm with my decision and let myself be isolated in this place, drowning in my own thoughts.

We used to go home together when we were in college. He used to treat me with care like I was a fragile jar of chocolate.

Back then, we used to talk almost every minute. He would send me messages, call me every night just to share and discuss how his day went, and would ask me if I wanted this or that; he used to say that he wanted us to go here and there, just the two of us. He had patiently listened as I shared the summary of the novel I just finished reading.

Before, he used to let me know when he would be out to catch up with some of his high school friends; he would inform me if he was having a lazy day and wouldn't be able to talk to me for a day 'coz he decided to take a social media break. He called it a day of technological fasting.

He used to wait for me whenever I was working late. He used to be my male closest friend. He used to have a special part in my life. He was the only guy who let me feel so valued. He was the only guy who exerted a lot of effort in me, who had been my constant food buddy and my human diary aside from Kirsten.

I used to receive extraordinary gifts from him (with or without occasions).

We used to feel so comfortable with each other; talking, laughing, just like what friends do. I could still recall the first day he asked me out, when we first held hands, the first night when he said I was his girl; the feeling was like dancing to my favorite Taylor Swift's song inside my bedroom every night. It was beautiful, magical, and enchanting. I could use all the best adjectives to describe it.

He was the only guy whom I had this weird feeling for. My only double happiness.

In the beginning, everything seemed so perfect. Every feeling was indescribable. Every moment seemed long lasting. In a jiffy, that happiness had chosen to let go of me. Perhaps, I was not the happiness he was looking for, I was not his double happiness.

We both liked to talk about random stuff, he often shared his thoughts about life, social freedom, politics, anything under the sun. He used to send text messages every time he got out of bed, before he dozed back to sleep, as though I was his living journal. But what were we? Good friends.

He would let me know if he was exhausted, unhappy, mentally stressed, or just bored. He made me feel a part of his daily life. How could I not treat him special when he also made me feel precious? How could I stop myself from having affections toward him? How could I be assured that this thing between us would last? I was starting to feel hopeless.

I was not his. He was not mine. Were we both trying to make it work?

"I've been spending the last eight months thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end."