"Only in the eyes of love you can find infinity."
― Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
(Tirchanus' POV)
It's him.
I am stunned. I have no words to say. It is the beautiful stranger that I met just hours ago. His beautiful smile, cute dimples and his brown eyes… oh God. Those eyes are just stunning. How they shoot that sweet look at me is just miraculous.
"Oh, yes! I am glad you returned!" Amura exclaims in delight as he approaches the handsome figure. He gestures me to come near him. Somehow, everything is in a blur and I only focus on this tall, handsome and young man, smiling at me. I feel light; I feel like floating to him and wrap him in my warm, soft embrace. I just want to do anything just to get to him. My breathing becomes deeper and deeper with every inch I step to come near him. My heartbeat is rapid that it wants to get out of my chest. I feel warm inside. What the hell is he doing to me? I finally come face to face with him. I want to melt into his arms so bad and---
"So, this fellow right here is Tirchanus Cortes, a natural – born artist," Amura interrupts my slow motion moment with him. I have to thank him after this otherwise, I would be thinking of something else and I don't want to embarrass myself in front of this beautiful stranger. I smile like an awkward high school teen asking his crush to be his prom date during lunch period in the cafeteria in front of hundreds of people. Amura continues, "Chan, this is Maitho Diaz. He is a known writer, photographer and a good man. He bought almost all of your works for his home." Maitho… I scream internally, finally getting to know this beautiful stranger that is standing right in front of me. I'm like a first grader during a "getting to know you" program.
Maitho extends his arm for a handshake. I can't hold it in so I reach his with mine and we shake hands firmly. I avoid those soft brown eyes as I blush slightly at his soft touch. "I have to say, Mr. Cortes, it's a pleasure to meet the mastermind behind those amazing works. I didn't want to buy all of your paintings, knowing that you still have some more in the basement but I'm glad to meet you again," he says to me. I put on a small smile as I blush on his complements. His piercing sweet smile projects itself onto my face, so young, handsome and innocent.
"I believe we have met before, Mr. Cortes," he grins at me. He damn knows my weakness! He squints in eyes slyly; his dimples on both cheeks appear as his perfectly curved smile projects at me. "Yes, we do. You are the one I saw by the beach just moments ago. I'm glad that we meet each other again," I say, voice slightly shaking as I silently pray to God that it doesn't crack or break. I try to be a little bit bold as I come out of the shell slowly, gaining confidence in talking to him but little by little, I get paralyzed by his beauty; his face and his eyes. There's just something about his eyes that keeps me warm inside; those caramel brown eyes that softens my body. I feel like melting if I have to be honest.
"I knew that you draw and sketch but dang, I didn't know you can paint so well," he says as he looks around the almost empty room, "I just had to buy a lot of them though I had to load them all by batches." I nod at the obvious sight and say to him, "Yeah, but it helps us all a lot, Maitho. Our business has been running slow lately. We occasionally have a few customers who would buy more than one but for the majority, it is a drag." Maitho nods his head sympathetically, then tilts his head to the right and asks, "Mr. Cortes, if it is alright to ask, of all the things you can do in this world, why paint? To be specific, why do you sell your paintings and artworks to people instead of actually keeping them or giving it as a gift to someone who matters the most to you?" I am a little held back to be honest. I know about having an art business because of my passion but never in my wildest dreams do I ever think of the real "why's" of it all.
It's funny that when I was a kid, I was always the most active and imaginative kid alive. Boys before were having issues collecting pogs, fighting spiders on sticks on street sides to earn a little bit of money and watching new episodes of Transformers ever Saturday. However, all I did was staring out of the window, look into the blue velvet sky and picture out a world out there; a world that is beyond reality. I would grasp what could be out there and just grabbed the nearest color that was within my vicinity and draw. Somehow, little 4 – year old Tirchanus was gravitated by the idea of a world that exists but not everyone knows where, why and how and just started to draw. Every kid has an imagination that can reach for miles to God knows where but I challenged myself to reach out and feel it. Every stroke of my crayons that colors the blank paper in front of me is my language; the language the eyes speak. I was certain that I should devote my entire life in arts and crafts.
My parents thought that it was silly of me to have little to no social interaction with the kids, swing on swing sets, role – play the hell out of the day or even follow the Pretend Spirit or some shit like that. However, I felt drawn to visualize anything that is out of my mind onto a blank canvas; let it be a paper, a white wall or my classmate's shirt at the back. It just came into me and I was compelled to follow with it and in just in the span of my entire life so far, I find myself standing in front of art that I make from my emotions, ideas and thoughts. I am here not to make art solely for decoration but to make art for depth; for reflection of our world's different dimensions and perspectives. We see the world differently but I choose to express how I see it, how I feel it and how I look at it. Every art that I make is emotion. To be real, our lives are art because we view it in more than one way in different angles and every angle gives new details and discoveries.
However, as for the art sell thingy, I need the damn money for my needs. I am a little desperate here.
Maitho chuckles at my answer, seemingly finding the charm and the logic of it. All I can do is just smile at how his hearty laugh resonates in the almost empty room. He takes a deep exhale and looks at me with his smile. "Mr. Cortes, you are one unique being, I must say. I really do enjoy your artworks. They are indeed beautiful. I intend to give some of them to my parents and relatives, who are in need of more decorations for their homes but they are inclined in the arts too so your purpose isn't lost," he says to me as he walks around the room. His footsteps reverberate all around the room until he stops at the painting in one corner of the room. "To be fair, some of your paintings are just," he takes a deep breath before finishing his sentence, "sad and just painful to look." He looks at "The Last Memory of Me," a work I made when I was admittedly obsessed with painting to the point that I lost contact of everyone, including Amura.
It was around last month when I pushed myself to make several artworks for money, being carried away by the idea of earning money and developing and improving my artistry. For exactly two weeks, I ate and drank a little and lost contact with people who matter to me. I got so carried away that I started to destroy my apartment room, raging because I couldn't get a clearer picture of what I wanted to make at that time. Amura came into my room and knocked some sense into me after I yelled at him for interrupting me:
"Chan, get your shit together! It has been two weeks and now, you are constantly painting for our business and you're getting carried away by it. Not to mention, you fucking yelled at everyone for no fucking reason for the past few days! How the hell are you going to help yourself if the one thing that is on your fucking mind right is now is fucking paint?! I spent two weeks trying to contact you, trying to know where you live and now, do you think I fucking deserve your rage right now? Do you think I fucking deserve a raging answer from you? You can't do shit for yourself so how much more when it comes to your business? Chan, I can't make any fucking money. Though I can help you decide but when you are rolled into the hospital, I can't fucking help you with that because you brought this all on yourself! You are losing yourself, Chan! What is happening to you? Get your shit together, bitch!"
I started to get a grip on myself at that point in time. I almost lost myself in my desires that I have lost almost everyone. It was a good thing that Amura decided to stay with me. It took me a week to recover from my sick addiction and I tried to contact everyone else other than Amura but they don't want to hear from me anymore. I sat alone in my room that I had destroyed because of my desire with a blank canvas in front of me and a paintbrush with black paint on it. A tear flowed down my cheek as I finally realized that I almost left myself behind. The cold, empty feeling in my chest grows and I needed it to disappear so I painted myself but I didn't paint my head to show that I was so close to losing my mind at that significant time.
Maitho doesn't need to know the whole story of the painting so I nod my head. "Yeah but hey, it is a good release from the body, Maitho. You should try it out," I say to him as I approach him. I get close to him and I stop behind him. Trying not to be a creep, I step beside to his left side and look at him as he studies the painting. "Well, I can do that by writing, Mr. Cortes," he says as he looks at me with those caramel brown eyes, "I love to write just about anything that comes into my mind. In just a snap of a finger, watch me grab my laptop or notebook and pen and write the entire day away." I immediately widen my eyes in amusement. A writer, huh? Might as well write our vows while we're at it. Suddenly, I feel as if though my heart wants to burst out from my chest. I feel so weak right now. Not only is he a charming person but he is also a writer.
"I have written a lot of poems and stories and I love to keep them in my binder or in my laptop. They are some sort of a diary or a personal journal. Right now, I am trying to find words that could fit the city of Kalimbahin," he continues, snapping me off from my daydream. "Oh? How complicated could Kalimbahin could be?" I ask, secretly challenging him to describe it because I myself cannot describe the beautiful city of Kalimbahin, that's for sure. "Oh, even the adjective 'beautiful' is an understatement. There seems to be more depth and layers Kalimbahin has that perhaps you don't know about. Calling the city 'beautiful' is not strong enough to express how I feel about it nor does it justify the aesthetics of it. Kalimbahin is beautiful, we can all say that, but to me, it doesn't deserve the adjective. Rather, it deserves something more than just 'beautiful' because… it is a life; a cycle," he adds. I reflect briefly on what Maitho said. Kalimbahin may be a beautiful city but it doesn't take away the fact that it is the life of many people. So many people work here, grow up here, stay here or even die here. Even if so, it is a city that emits splendor through its pastel colors.
"Well, I should be going right now. Sorry for my little rant earlier but it is indeed nice to know you, Amura and Mr. Cortes," he says to me as he walks away from me. My instincts are quick like Jackie Chan or Bruce Lee in Honk Kong fighting movies so I walk to him and grab his hand. Maitho turns around to face me as I hold in my rough hands his soft, smooth hands. He gasps slightly at the sudden move I make. Damn it, Chan. You could have just called him! It was silent for a while with the only sound emitting in the moment is the city's ambiance. "I--- uhh… just call me Chan or Tirchanus, Maitho. No need to be formal with me," I immediately speak to him as I let go of his hand, "It is indeed nice to know you. Will you be visiting here more often?" Maitho nods in response. I smile at him; the warm fuzzy feeling in me grows as I gradually fall for him. "Yes, Chan. Hope we'll get along well," he answers. He walks out of the store and the only thing remains of him here is the feeling of his hand on mine. Honestly, I didn't want him to leave but then again, what else can I say to him? I look out to the distance, stunned by his innocence, character and that damn smile and his brown eyes. I fell hard for him… but I shouldn't let that get into my head. I mean, I don't think he feels the same way so why bother?
"Don't say it, Chan. I know it," Amura speaks as he stands beside me and pats my back.
I'm in love with him…
…but do I deserve him?