I woke up this morning wanting to call in sick but I couldn’t because there were a lot of things I had to do in the office. I remembered him when a long time ago, I told him I was sick and couldn’t go to work and he offered to bring me soup and take care of me until I feel better. I told him, “Adik ka ba?” I didn’t want him to visit me because I didn’t want my parents to meet him. He met my parents after a couple of months in a very very embarrassing situation. No, my parents didn’t walk in on us while you-know-what. Anyway, we ended up going out and watching a movie albeit me being sick. I didn’t want to kiss him, but he risked getting the virus. True enough, he had cough and colds a few days after. I sent him an sms saying “Get well”. He replied, “Soup?” and I said, “You have helpers. Go ask one of them to make you some.” No wonder he didn’t become my boyfriend. But hey, I wanted to be there but I wasn’t prepared to meet his mom and dad.
I was stuck with that memory this morning and I could help but remember the story of “The Fake Pearl” that my friend Ralph shared with me last night. I almost bawled while walking out of Glorietta when I told him I already knew how the story’s gonna end, “Waaaah!!! I have a fake pearl! Pucha. I have a lot of fake pearls!!!” How can God give me the true pearl when I can’t let go of the fake? How can God show me Mr.Right if my heart and mind cannot move on? What if he’s already in my life but I’m too stupid to notice him because all I see is the one I want to be with but should not be with?
It’s scary. I did not expect that my feelings are still this strong for this guy. Just mid last year I claimed that I was in love with another
man boy. This other boy even asked me before why after this guy who wanted to bring me soup, I was not able to love again. I can’t remember what I answered but I knew I answered what I believed was true that time. And what I believed true was I didn’t have feelings for him anymore and that I was just waiting for the right one to come along. Couldn’t be more wrong. Few months after I was asked that question, I was with the soup-guy (haha lame codename I know, so tempted to put his initials but I won’t) and some of my friends and I thought it was just one of those regular drinking sessions where I was chatty because of the alcohol buzz. My friends told me right after that night that they’ve never seen me that happy. Not even with the guy I claimed I was in love with. That scared me because I didn’t want to fall all over again. But I guess I set myself up for trouble. And I fell. Harder than before. I believe the word they used to describe me when I was with soup-guy was effervescent. Lively. Sparkling.
I put on my work clothes and put on makeup. I went out of the house and walked to the elevator. I walked back to the house and went in my room and removed all the pictures of us. Just recently, I had our favorite pictures printed because resisting him wasn’t working so I thought, maybe filling my world with his memories might make me sick of him. I kept the pictures underneath a stack of old books that I don’t plan reading. The dust made me sneeze.
I deleted his name from my phonebook.
Hopefully, This is the last time I’m going to write about him.
My body is sick. My heart is hopeful. Real pearl, come to me.
listening to: nothing