EVERYWHERE I turn my head, I see people that adore one another. It's such a lovely sight that just pure love fills the entire space. Family, friends, and romantic partners who love each other.
As I glance about, I ponder if no time is wasted, why do they have theirs and I don't? I'm not in a hurry, but why do they have a lover and I don't? I've been waiting for so long and haven't had a single romantic experience. While I was contemplating, there was a sudden downpour of large, heavy raindrops. They frantically stowed their goods while others dashed for the eco-sheds.
I wanted to assist a family but was frightened of being embarrassed. There are those passing by who I want to invite and rush in to seek refuge because I am the only person in this place, and I am yet weak to make it happen.
Surprisingly, from my left side, I heard a deep and full voice. "Excuse me, sir, do you have anyone seated here?"
With my serene face, I rapidly turned my head to the unknown person. "Um, no one, sir," I said as I pushed my luggage away from my seat giving him the space.
"Thank you, sir," he said with a smile. He looks nice and a good person. He took the chair closest to the table. I expected him to take a seat next to me. It's embarrassing to think he'd take the seat next to me. It'll be shameful.
I simply smiled to express my welcome. I realized he was drenched from the rain. I'd like to offer him the extra shirt I have in my bag, but . . . He's a complete stranger to me. I just cannot offer him what I own without first getting to know him. That, though, is unimportant. What if he gets sick from getting soaked in the rain because I refused to let him take my spare shirt?
From where I sit, I can see him; he's cold and uncomfortable in his wet shirt. Should I ask him if he'd like to borrow one of my spare shirts or . . . I'm sorry, but I'm not up to the challenge. Harold, come to your senses! You should not think with malice in your head. If you keep expecting things to turn romantically, you won't be able to aid others or someone in need.
Both my inner thoughts and the rapid blood rushing in my heart were under my control. I got my extra shirt out of my laptop bag and opened it. A plain white t-shirt is all it is. Also, I believe we are the same shirt size, so it might fit for him.
I was too shy to say anything, but happily I was able to convey what I wanted to say.
For a little moment, he glanced at me with a puzzled expression on his face. "Are you sure?" I'm sure he was ashamed, but he desperately needs it, so he has no choice but to accept my offer.
"No problem," I said as I gave it to him across the table. He smiled as he accepted it.
I was confused as to why he hadn't worn it yet, until I realized I was staring at him, expecting him to change his soaked shirt. I turned him away from my sight so he could concentrate on himself.
That is where I am so stupid. Scandalous. But I couldn't help but wonder if he was genuinely wearing my shirt. So, I had a quick peek. He hadn't finished dressing yet, which surprised me. When he was about to finish, I happened to spot his honed hip with its V-shaped front.
"I'm sorry!" I was able to say something unexpected due to my gay panic.
He's confused. "Sorry for what?" he asked, smiling as he handed me his wet shirt. And I accepted it without hesitation.
"A-Ah, nothing. Never mind." I pretended to grin so he wouldn't see my anxiousness. "What am I going to do with this?" I'm referring to his wet shirt he gave from a few minutes earlier.
"You keep it, while I haven't returned this t-shirt you lent me, so just take it. Maybe we'll meet again for after long time and then I'll be able to return it to you. It's a shame if I can't give you anything in exchange for your kindness."
"Hey, there's no need to think about it. It's fine. Here . . ." I attempted to hand it back to him but he quickly refused to get it back, "take it back."
"Please just keep it for the time being, and I might take it back when the rain stops."
"All right, then." Why am I unhappy after hearing his words? It was never a problem keeping his wet shirt. I despise myself for being so naïve. I should have taken advantage of the opportunity to keep in touch with him. Something that would bind us together, yet I broke free. What a pathetic, hopeless romantic I am!
"I almost forgot. Thank you so much for letting me borrow your extra t-shirt. If it weren't for you, maybe I froze to death now." He laughed softly. Only now did I notice that he had braces on his teeth, which explains why his lips seem always smiling. He also wears black round earrings on both ears, and he's visible Adams's apple that added to his charisma.
Only now did I notice how expensive yet bad boy-looking he looks. He looked tall too when I saw him standing while changing his shirt a while ago. I think he's a 6-footer or less. But the point is, he's actually my type. But I don't want to romanticize him. I think he's a good person.
"Don't mention it. I'm just being a good Samaritan." I laughed softly too. Actually, I'm shy. I don't actually talk to strangers. But a guy like him is a game-changer.
After that, we didn't talk. He doesn't talk that much, but it's fine. I don't really care about him that much. I would prefer not to talk with him because I might just ruin his mood. For so many years, I thought I was a toxic person who spread toxicity to others. That's why I don't have someone who wanted to come with me in this relaxing greenery-scenic place. I enjoy myself alone most of the time. But I also want to have someone with whom I can share both my happy and sad times.
I focused myself on my laptop because I was writing an entry for the Bathalad Sugbo call for submission. I need to finish this as soon as possible because I have a lot of things to do on my schedule ahead of this day. I am a busy person—maybe it's one of the reasons why I can't find a partner. But no need to worry; I have plenty of priorities aside from putting myself in a situation that isn't important at the moment.
"What are you doing?" He unexpectedly sat down beside me. I was shocked by his sudden appearance. He's looking at my laptop while I'm looking at him with an unfamiliar sensation. It was a combination of adrenaline and electricity that made my skin tingle.
I shed tears unexpectedly. I also don't understand why I shed tears all of a sudden. Perhaps to my delight, that I have lived for so many years and now, I feel strange and unfamiliar feelings that I didn't know I needed so much in my life. At this moment, I don't want to end the momentum with him. It's a wholesome feeling. I want this moment to be treasured. Lock up and toss out into the vast unknown ocean.
He looks at me. His eyes are bright. Why is he always in the mood to act brand new? "Are you okay?" Did I disturb you? I'm so sorry. I should—" He stirs away from me.
But I quickly stopped him from moving. "No, it's okay. I was just thinking of something . . . for my, um—Nothing. But it's fine. You can sit beside me if you like."
He's still looking at me. It kind of made me feel something weird about him, but I don't want to panic, of course. Since we are in a public place, I'm sure he won't do something stupid.
"Truly." I added as I awkwardly smiled.
"You know what? You can ask me anything you want. You might get some help from me, no?
He's something, huh. "Um, okay, fine." I sighed gently—No, I did what? I just sighed.
"So, what help can I give?" he said, happily. I can see it from his smile. Don't let me see your smile for that long. I might melt because of it. Help!
"Wait, let me just think for a sec." I am lacking motivation and inspiration. Also, a sense of humanity in my piece I'm currently crafting. I wonder what it could be. I'm a hopeless romantic. What should I ask him to do?
"You can start by telling me what's on your mind right now." He looks serious. I'm screaming inside!
"I need something that would make me feel extreme romantic excitement for a hopeless romantic like me, who is writing a short story about a place that is filled with love and peace." It was very shameful to say those words.
"Oh," that was the only word that came out of his mouth.
Exactly as I predicted. "You don't have to do this. Just leave me alone so I can focus. You can just play games on your phone or whatever. Thank you." I'm not trying to be rude, but I'm getting stressed now. I recalled my numerous workloads. I need to finish this now.
I get back to my laptop and try to focus on it again. In a couple of minutes, I haven't heard a single noise from him. He's doing something; I don't know what it is exactly. I can only see him doing something from my peripheral vision. I just have to ignore him and get this done as soon as possible before the darkness invades the whole harmonious place.
A strum of the guitar was all I heard against the calming noise of raindrops around us. I didn't pay attention to him because I wanted to finish what I started right away, but . . .
"Tagda pud ko'g gamay,
Dili gyud ka nako magmahay,
Bisan mo ngisi lang,
Modako gyud ang akong atay . . ."
Wait, he just sang me a song? My head slowly turned to him, trying not to make an awkward expression. I shouldn't react that I'm liking it and it's making me romantically excited. I cannot deny that he has got a euphonious voice.
"Lingi pud nako usahay,
Gahinaut jud ko kanunay,
Bisan amigo lang,
Sangko sa langit ang kalipay . . ."
Just after he finished the song, the rain stopped dropping. And not that I'm sad because he's going to leave me now, but because I wasn't able to treasure the time with him. There's a part of me that wanted him to stay, but there's also a part of me that thinks he's a total stranger and I should not make expectations of him because of the fact that people just come and go. We don't get to hold the time, people, and memories to stay together in an existence of time under our control.
He smiled at me and looked around. "The rain stopped. "I think this is good bye," he said. Why does it seem so sad to be heard?
"I guess so," I replied. I quickly grabbed his wet shirt and handed it to him as he put his guitar back in its bag. "Don't forget your wet shirt."
"Oh, just please take good care of it. I'm sure this is not a good bye, right? We're going to see each other somewhere around this city, or in this place at some other time.
I just nodded because I don't have the words to say anymore. I don't want to give myself a chance.
He stood up as he put his guitar bag on his back. He looked at me and said, "I'm going now. Thank you so much for your kindness. I am going to take good care of this valuable shirt of yours."
What does he mean by "valuable"?
"Same here. You're welcome. You better keep going now. Maybe the rain will come back," I said.
I accompanied him to the bridge because I was also going to take a pee in the comfort room.
"Thank you again," he said, with a smile in his eyes. All I can see now are his bright eyes because he's wearing a face mask.
And that's where I last saw him.
I always thought of the time we spent together after a week on that day. Then I realized that he was trying to flirt with me back then, but because I was too busy at that time, I wasn't able to notice it. I always wonder what could have happened if I had flirted back. And what if I came back to the place where I last saw him? Maybe we could have tied the rope back and continued our torn story. But maybe we weren't meant for each other, and I think it's fine. But if the world was ending, he'd come over. I hope I'm right.
The sky would be falling, and I'd be holding him tight, and there'd be no reason why we'd have to say goodbye. Wouldn't we fall out of love again if I held his hand this time? But what if . . .