Apologies

It was first day of the mid-year exams and therefore I finished school a little earlier. I called him,

“Hey, I finished school earlier today, would you come by and pick me up?”

“Alright, give me five minutes.”

“Five minutes? But my school is just beside your house.”

“I need to get ready.”

“Alright, make it fast then.”
It was 2 p.m. in the afternoon and the sun was extremely hot. I stood under a shaded tree and fanned myself. Although it doesn't make much of a difference, I felt better with something to do while I wait.
After five minutes, he still hadn’t shown up. I felt a little unhappy as I looked at my watch.
Soon, five minutes turned to ten minutes and he's still not here. Did he meet with an accident on his way here? I started to become worried.
It was fifteen minutes later when he finally showed up.
“Why are you so late?”

He wasn't even a little bothered.

“I was watching T.V.”

“What?! T.V.?! Why don't you sleep, bathe and eat before you get me then?”
I was extremely angry and kept quiet as I didn't take the helmet he handed me. I stood there and stared at him.
“Sorry.”
This was the first time he said sorry to me. He is an egoistical person and had never apologized to his partner before. I looked at him and felt my heart softened. I decided it is alright since he apologized. I took the helmet and let him sent me home.
It was typical of him to avoid explanations, friction and quarrels between us. Since then, the only thing he ever does is to apologize when something is wrong. However in my opinion, some things can't be settled with an apology.
Despite that, I would never pursue a matter once he apologizes. He told me that was the first time he said sorry to a his partner before and while I felt that it takes courage to admit mistakes, he never once corrects his mistakes. Instead, I get the impression that sorry became a word to shut me up.
Tears flowed down my cheeks when he apologized to me again on the 59th time. I dropped my head and told him,
“Please don't bother to say sorry to me again. If you can never change your bad habits, don't let me keep giving you chances again and again, hoping and believing that you would change each time.”
He held me lightly and said the 60th sorry. Even with my outburst and his latest apology, he did not change for the better and there still wasn’t any explanation on his mistakes whatsoever.
I started to worry about the possibility that he was keeping something from me.
“What's wrong with you these few days?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you acting so strange?”

“I am not.”

“What can you say other than giving this reply?”

“Do you know I'm very worried and very insecure?”

“Do you treat me as your partner?”

“I'm sorry...”

“I don't want to hear you say sorry again.”
I clammed the phone down and he did not call me back. At that point of time, I felt that he didn't even care about me. Maybe we should just break up.
That was the 99th time he said sorry to me.
From that day onwards, I stopped calling and looking for him.
Sometimes, I would get an anonymous phone call. However every time I said hello, the phone will be cut off. I think he made those calls but I wondered why he didn’t speak up.
After a month, I couldn't contain the feelings I still have for him anymore and went to his school to look for him. I went to his classroom and looked around, but there was no sign of him.
“Excuse me, is Mark here today?”

“I'm afraid he stopped schooling.”

“Huh? Why? When was that?”

“He hasn't been in school for a month already.”

“Oh erm... Thanks.”
One month? He hasn’t been in school for one month. Why is that so? I stumbled home in confusion.
As soon as I got home I tried to contact him via his cell phone but all I got was, “The number you dialed is either unattended or out of coverage area please try your call later.“

I tried calling his house instead but there was no answer. How can it be? Did his whole family migrate? It seemed as if he has disappeared off the face of the earth without leaving a single trace.
I couldn't find him and just as I was feeling distraught, my friend rang me up. He was one of his brothers and also my good friend.


“Hey, what have you been doing? Mark is in hospital.”

“Really? What Happened?”

“Oh he is at the Medical City hospital, the one you stayed in previously.”

“I'll be right there.”
I rushed off and when I reached the hospital, I saw that his parents were already there. I asked them for his room number and flew across the hall. He was lying on a bed looking at me. He didn’t speak a word nor moved a muscle.
Hey, what happened to you? Why didn't you contact me?”

He did not answer but stared without emotion at me.

“Come on answer me. Why don't you speak?”

A tear flowed down the side of his eye, and it looked as though he was summoning all his energy to mumble these words...

“I'm... Sorry...”

He shut his eyes after that.

“Hey, don't fool around alright. Why say sorry to me?”

“Don't say sorry to me. Please wake up. Please answer me…”
I fell down on the side of his bed and wept miserably. I pulled his shirt as I cried out...

“Why do you have to apologize? Why don't you give me an explanation instead?”

“I won't forgive you. Wake up! It is no use saying sorry...”

“I'll never ever forgive you in this lifetime if you don’t wake up. Please, I beg you to open your eyes.....”
That was the 100th sorry. A group of medical staff, doctors and nurses pulled me away and tried to revive him. I didn’t even have the strength to stand up. My mind was a blank.... My eyes could only see a sea of darkness...
He did not leave this world. I merely lost the chance to touch him. Sometimes, he will appear in my dreams and tell me how he is doing. He is still alive and accompanies me in my heart. He will still laugh at my silliness and call me his darling. It’s just that he will never apologize to me anymore.
After a month, his mom came to look for me and gave me a box. There were a hundred photographs inside. Everyone had a story behind them. It was the reason why he made me angry.
My dear, the first time I said sorry I did not purposely arrive late to pick you up. I know this excuse is really lame but I didn't have the heart to tell you the truth then. Before I stepped out of the house, I felt a pain in my chest but I still made it a point to meet you. Can you please forgive me?
My dear, the second time I said sorry I...
My dear, the third time I said sorry I...
My dear, the hundredth time I said sorry I didn't mean to leave you alone in this world. It had to be so because God did not give me the chance to say I Love You for this lifetime of mine and to put a ring on your finger...
You are the first guy I apologized to and also the first guy I want to be with for the rest of my life. Forgive me for not being able to bring you happiness but I will become your angel and always look out for you. I will look at you while you find your happiness. Please promise me not to shed a tear. I don't want to see you weep for me.
I Love You

~ Mark


How can I not cry? What you wanted was just impossible.
The last photograph showed him in the hospital. Although he was skinny, the smile on his face was as bright as ever. His face was pale and yet he tried his best to give his last smile on the last photo, the photo for the 100th apology.

At the time when he needed me the most, I wasn't with him. I'm sorry. I held the photo tightly and cried for us.

Cellphone

My cellphone's beeping sound woke me up one night. Used to receiving important messages only, I grabbed my cellphone and sleepily pressed the keys and read the message.

"Hi there! Care 2 b my txtmate?"

Not knowing who the sender was, I deleted the message right away and placed the phone on my bedside table. I tried to go back to sleep. I had just closed my eyes when I heard the message tone again.

"Hi there, again! Care 2 b my txtmate?" again, the message said.

"Who the hell could this be asking for a textmate at the wee hours of the night?" I asked myself.

Again, I deleted the message without bothering to reply.

I was never a 'textmaniac' - someone who enjoys texting anyone and everyone even in the wee hours of the night, not to mention during the day. My parents who were always abroad, forced me to own a cellphone. They told me that having one was more convenient - they could monitor me even if they're miles away.

I wanted to turn the cellphone off. However, since my mother was fond of calling me at night just to check if I am safe at home, I decided not to.

Just as I was about to close my eyes and return to my dreamless sleep, the phone beeped again. It was from the same number! Such determination!

"Ply reply 2 dis msg & b an angel & save me frm dis abyss of emptiness!"

I never knew why but the message struck me. I got up and pressed the keys. I realized I was replying to the message.

"Im not an angel, n if u want som1 2 save u, Im not superman. Im just a simple person whom u woke up in d mid of d nite! Nway, do I know u?" I typed.

Seconds later came the reply.

"Nope. U don't know dis lonely soul. Nor does he know u. But I want 2 b ur frnd. I'm Michael Cervantes. U?"

"Just call me Julius. How did u get my no.?" I sent back.

"Hi Julius, nice 2 meet u. Just shuffled the last two digits of mine" he replied.

That was the first and maybe the last time I met someone over the cellphone.

We exchanged messages and learned so much about each other that night. We only said goodbye when my alarm clock rang at 5 a.m.! I had to prepare for work!

And that was also how it all started. There wouldn’t be a day without a loving and thoughtful message from him. It was only then I learned to appreciate text messages and become eager and excited everytime my phone beeped, hoping it would be him.

I never knew why, but his response would send shivers down my spine.

"Value d people hu hav touched ur life bcoz ull never know just wen will dey walk out of ur lyf & nvr come back again."

I couldn't understand what I felt at that moment, but I was sure of one thing. I could not go a day without a single word from him. Even though we haven’t met personally, I became used to having him in my life. In fact by then, he already occupies a large space in my life.

I texted him back. "Dont come close if ull jst pass by; don't touch me if ull jst let me cry; dont luv me if ull jst leave me and won't stay..."

I didn't know why I sent him that message, but somehow I felt every word came from my heart. In the short span of time that we exchanged messages with each other, I knew I have reserved a place for him in my heart.

I called him once. The voice on the other end was like an angel's. It was soft, kind and full of love. Yet, there was something in it I couldn't define. We only talked for a few minutes. Before he hung up, he told me not to call again. According to him, it would be better if we would just text each other.

But his voice kept ringing not only in my head, but in my heart. I longed to hear it once more. I tried to call him again but he did not answer the phone. He just kept on sending messages and quotations, which I copied in a little notebook. Am I a hopeless romantic? I don't know. All I could say was all the messages he sent me were wonderful. They came from his heart and cut through my heart.

"Though we r miles apart, u r always in my heart. I close my eyes & der u r. Even if I'll nvr c u, I'll always b arnd 2 care 4 u, far longer den 4ever..."

He sent me this message to me on one December night. By that time, we had been exchanging messages for more than a month. God knew how happy I was. He was right. Although we had not seen each other, what we felt was enough to make us both realize what was keeping us together.

I sent him another message, "Loving u secretly is a hard thing 4 me 2 do, hoping, wondering that u will feel d same way 2, but I can't read ur mind to know if u luv me 2. But whatever it is, I'll still be loving u."

"How I wish I cud really tell u how much u mean 2 me, but Im afraid 2 love, scared 2 get hurt. I hope dat u will wait 4 me & pray dat u will not get tired of loving me. =)" was his reply.

And I replied again. "The reason y I met u is bcoz of destiny but if destiny will suggest dat I'll live w/o u, den, I'll not follow my destiny but my free will."

Whenever I asked him when can we meet personally, he will always reply, "Soon... soon, love... soon."

Not seeing each other did not lessen our love even by a bit. What I felt for him grew deeper and stronger each day. And I was sure he felt the same way too. Love messages continued to flow through our lines between our hearts, which made us think that we would see each other, face to face, heart to heart someday.

Just a few days before Christmas, he stopped sending me messages. At first I just thought he had ran out of credit on his prepaid card.

However, there was something that kept bothering me. I couldn't understand what was it, but it made me felt nervous. I tried to call him but he wouldn't answer. Nevertheless, I continued sending him messages.

One night, just three days before christmas day, I suddenly heard my phone's message tone again. At last! It was from him!

"Often in tym, we say gudbye 2 d 1 we luv w/o wanting 2. Though dat doesn't mean dat we stopped loving dem or we stopped 2 care. Sometyms, Goodbye is a painful way 2 say I Love You."

I was dumfounded. I didn't know what to think of it. What did he mean? I texted him back searching for answers. However, I found nothing. I called him but he would not answer as usual.

For the first time in my life, I felt so miserable, desperate and empty. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to lose him. I had learned to love him and I wanted to be with him forever.

The following days, I felt nothing but emptiness. It seemed that Michael took the life out of me. I missed him so much. I missed his messages. I missed hearing my message tone that would indicate that he had sent another loving message. Nobody around me could feel the emptiness I felt.

Tut... Tut... Tut... Tut... Tut...

A day before Christmas, my cellphone beeped again. It was him!

“Meet me at MOA, Starbucks, 10 am 2day”

I read it aloud, making sure the message was true. I jumped with joy upon hearing from him again. I got myself ready in a hurry and went to the mall. I knew it was still early, but I wanted to be there before he arrived.

I arrived at the meeting place ten minutes earlier. I was surprised to see heim already there, smiling at me. He was very handsome. He had black, deep-set eyes that spoke a thousand words; small, kissable lips; a perfectly chiselled nose and black hair. Her eyes radiated kindness and love but there was a flicker of something in them. I thought I could detect a flicker of sadness.

“Hi, Julius,” said the angelic voice I had been dreaming of each night.

It was a voice that I had waited to hear for so long.

“Please sit down.”

“I am very pleased to meet you, Michael,” I said, as I took my seat and gave him the necklace I had bought for him.

“Thanks, Julius.” he smiled, obviously pleased with the necklace.

I knew he love ethnic necklaces.

“You are always welcome, Love.”

“Julius, I can’t stay,” he said, sadness in his voice.

“I really must go.”

“But we just met, Michael. Can’t we talk a little longer?” I asked, pleadingly.

“I really can’t. I just came here to see you and thank you for the time you have shared with me. Thank you for everything, Julius. I will never forget you. You will always be here in my heart.”

He was looking at me straight in the eyes and I could really feel the sadness in his voice. I swear there was something in his voice and those lovely yet lonely eyes. He got up and smiled at me lovingly.

“Please come and visit me tomorrow morning.” he said and gave me a piece of paper.

I read what was written on it and when I looked up, he was gone. The following day on Christmas, I woke up early and got ready in excitement as I thought of him. I went to a local convenience store to buy some presents for him.

They lived in an exclusive subdivision. Upon reaching their house, I told the guard who I was and that I was looking for Michael. The guard stared at me with sadness and amazement in his eyes. He told me to wait as he called the owner of the house. As I saw him going inside the house, I noticed that the house was brightly lit.

A woman came out of the house and walked towards me, smiling sadly.

“Hi, I’m Maria, Michael's mother. Please come inside, Julius.”

While we were walking towards the mansion, he explained to me why she knew me very well - Michael talks about me often. I hardly understood what she was saying as I was busy wondering why was she crying while talking to me.

As we approached the great hall of the house, it dawned on me that there was a wake inside. I thought maybe a relative had passed away. However, deep in my heart, I was trembling and afraid.

As we entered the hall, there were many people silently mourning while others were praying.

I asked his mother, “Where is Michael?”

He held my hand and silently led me to the coffin which was surrounded by flowers. The flowers were all pink roses. No words could explain how I felt when I gazed into the coffin and saw who was lying there. It was the same beautiful boy I met yesterday…

A man came beside me and I knew he was Michael’ father.

“We are so glad you came, Julius. Michael talked about you all the time. He even asked for his phone to be buried with him. He said that through this way, you could still send him messages and you would always be with him.”

I couldn’t believe everything… My mind was in limbo.

“But how can this be? We just saw each other yesterday.”

“That can’t possibly be. He passed away three days ago. He had been suffering from a heart disease since he was a child.” said his father.

“But…” I couldn’t find the words to say.

“He told us not to bother reaching you.” his mother said, still in tears.

“He said that you will come and here you are.”

Pain and bitterness overwhelmed me. I cried silently beside him as I stared at his lovely face. I tried to memorize every line of my friend’s face, a face I knew I would never forget while I was still alive.

After going to the wake that afternoon, I went to the chapel he told me he went everyday. I sat there praying and crying to God.

I held my phone and typed, “U taught me how 2 care; u taught me how 2 b kind; u shwd me how 2 lyk som1; u shwd me how 2 luv; but ders 1 thing u didnt teach me & it hurts - u didnt teach me how 2 let u go. I Love You.”

I sent the message and even though I knew he wouldn’t be able to hold his cellphone again, I knew in my heart he would get my message. I didn’t expect a reply but my phone beeped seconds later. I felt a shiver down my spine. The sender’s number did not appear on the screen but tears rolled down my cheeks as I read the message.

“Let go of d hand of d person u love, but dont let go of God’s hand. 4 if u hold 2 his hand. He may b holding d person u love in d other hand 2 let u hold each other again.”

“I will never forget you Michael. I will never let you go…” I vowed to him and to myself as I left the chapel.

"Keep me as a frnd & I will keep u in my heart. Lock it up & throw away d key so dat no1 can evr tke u away from me..."

One day, he sent this message to me.

I replied, 'In life, we seldom find a true prson & if u evr find 1, hold on & nvr let go... Value dat prson coz it's a gift worth keeping & holdin on..."

Looking Back

Sitting in the stale air of the small café, I begin to miss how much softer it seemed when the room was heavy with smoke. The coffee and the cigarettes allowed me to feel content and almost appear as if I was not alone. Now we stand awkwardly outside; silent strangers huddled together, our lonely, half drunk coffee cups waiting for us at the table.

It’s been a long twelve months working at the company, but I spend my days in here until night. They say that it is not much of a life: Paying the rent with the day job, writing whatever comes in my mind on my notebook, and drink when I can, but I don’t mind it. It gives me the time I need to observe, listen and retain the few remaining grains of my sanity. I have engaged with nothing but the paper and books for as long as I can remember, but I was never one for taking part. Being left alone is superb; the highest social standing you can find, however, they are things you miss and you miss them hard.  

I throw my cigarette on to the pavement as the cars go by, driven by no one –not really. I imagine my smoking cigarette butt bouncing through a radiator grill and igniting the cars flammable life source. BANG!

Excitement…

I can only imagine it, because in this reality… Sorry, my reality, excitement is dead. I turn away from the street and lower my head to sway back in to the café, avoiding the eyes of all those too much like me to be likeable. I take my seat and sigh.

Yesterday is still playing on the head; another desperate phone call that finalizes this distance… I should have learnt by now: If there is one human trait that is found unattractive by all, it is ‘desperate’… It’s hard… I stare in to the mirror and remember who I looked at two years ago: The ebullient face of content now replaced with empty eyes and wild hair. I leer where I used to gracefully observe. Yesterday was a reminder… There is no hope.

 “Can I borrow your lighter?” I looked up and saw a student who probably works part time. I nod at him and he smiles nervously while I lend him the new lighter that I bought from 7-11.

“Would you sit down here with me for a while?” I said to the student. I can’t believe I just asked him that; I’ll be flogged out of here. I’m 21, stressed and solitude. He is vibrant, toned and waiting anxiously for the time of his life. Those eyes… They are yet to be touched by sorrow; they still shine and open wide.

“Okay, my friends aren’t here yet.” said the student.

“I understand.” I replied.

The words fleeted instantly as I realized this was the first stranger I had spoken to in two years. Everything I had put to paper describing missed encounters… All of the passion I could fathom on to paper… It was not there in speech. So I stared. I studied his eyes, then his lips, then his hands. He had me. Then, the tell tale signs: He scratched the back of his neck, began to shuffle, puffing at his cigarette.

“It’s quite strange.”

“What?”

I sighed again, and took my time.

“It’s strange… I haven’t even tried to speak to a stranger since… That doesn’t matter. I had this unstoppable flow of words coursing through me, which I could write down, but… It didn’t help. You’re the first in two years, and now all I want to share with you… is silence.” “I need a cigarette… do you like to have one?”

“No” said the student.

“Fine… okay… well… thank you, and enjoy your day.” i replied

“Aren’t you staying for another coffee?”

I looked down at the empty cup and offered a wry smile.

“Okay, but I need to smoke first.”

I got up and walked outside; lowering my head I lit a cigarette and walked away. What I needed was to look forward to a new day, new love and a new me.

Imperfect

We have been together for two years. I love literature and often posts his my on the net, but nobody ever reads them. I am also into photography and I also handle wedding photos. I love him very much. Likewise with him, he has a quick temper and always bullies me. I am a gentleman and always give in to him. Today, he’s being willful again.

Him: “Why can’t you be the photographer for my friend’s wedding? She promised she’d pay.”

Me: “I don’t have time that day.”

Him: “Humph!”

Me: “Huh?”

Him: “Don’t have time? Write less of those novels, and you will have all the time you need.”

Me: “I... someone will definitely recognize my work someday.”

Him: “Humph! I don’t care; you’ll have to do it for her!”

Me: “No.”

Him: “Just this once?”

Me: “No.”

Negotiation’s broken. So, she gave the final warning:

“Give me a Yes within three days, or else...”

First day, he “withheld” the kitchen, bathroom, computer, refrigerator, and television, Wi-Fi, except the double bed to show to me “benevolence”. Of course, he has to sleep on it too. I didn’t mind those things, as I still have some cash in my pocket. Second day, he conducted a raid and removed everything from my pockets and warned, “Seek any external help, and you bear the consequences.” I got nervous. That night, on the bed, I begged for mercy, hoping that he’ll end this state. He doesn’t give a damn. He didn’t give in, whatever I said. Until I agree. Third night I am lying on the bed, looking to one side. He’s lying on the bed, looking to the other side.

Me: “We need to talk.”

Him: “Unless it’s about the wedding, forget it.”

Me: “It’s something very important.”

He remains silent.

Me:”Let’s end this relationship.”

He did not believe his ears.

Me: “I got to know another guy.”

He’s totally angry, and wanted to hit me. But he held it down and let me finish. But his eyes already felt wet. I took a photo out from my chest. I hid it on my undershirt pocket because that’s the only place he didn’t go through yesterday. How careless.

Me: “He is a handsome and nice guy.”

His tears fell.

Me: “He has a good personality too.”

He’s heartbroken because I put a photo of some other guy close to my heart (chest).

Me: “He said that he’ll support me fully in my pursuit for literature no matter what happen.”

He’s very jealous because he said the same thing in the past.

Me: “He loves me truly.”

He wishes to sit up and scream at me “Don’t I?”

Me: “So, I think he won’t force me to do something that I don’t want to do.”

He’s thinking, but the rage won’t subside.

Me: “Want to take a look at the photo I took for him?”

Him: “...!”

I showed to him the photo I was holding. He’s in a total rage, hits his hand away and leaves a burning slap on my face. He cried. I returned the photo back to my pocket. He pulled his hand back under the blanket. I turned off the light, and slept. He turns on the light, and sits up. I was already sleeping that time. He lost sleep. He regrets treating the way he treated me. He cried again, and thought about a lot of things. He wanted to wake me up. He wants to have an intimate talk with me. He doesn’t want to push me anymore. He stared at my chest. He wanted to see how the boy looks. He slips the photo out. He wanted to cry and he wanted to laugh. It’s a nicely taken photo, a photo of him taken over a year ago. He bends down, and kissed my on my cheek. I smiled. I was just pretending to be asleep.

“You learn to love, not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly.”

All About Me....!!!

I can say I’m a loving person very considerate, but of course it depends on what to consider. I am a very cautious person. I am! , I want this to be simple as possible.

I’m a night person, I am not sure what it really means but I like dark places, I even put a black cartolina at my room’s window just to prevent the lights from coming in.

I like stars, I love to see them, I love going to higher places just to see the stars closely above.” Rain” I like raindrops, I love water. I’m an Aries, Aries basically possess strong and attractive personalities.

In argument consequently I am unprejudiced and tolerant of other points of view.

“Be open to truth from whatever source it comes and prepared to learn from everyone”

I am friendly and humanitarian, Honest, original, independent, concise, clear, logical Also Intractable, perverse and unpredictable.

In love, I do not give myself easily – perhaps the judgment of human nature is too good for that - and are sometimes accounted cold, but once I decide that someone is worthy for our friendship or love, I can exert an almost hypnotic and irresistible mental attraction on them and we will become tenacious friend’s or lovers, “I am ready to sacrifice for my partner and be faithful to whoever “for life” however, sometimes I get disappointed emotionally because of my own high personal ideas causes me to demand more of others that is reasonable and if I got deceived my “anger” is terrible, if disillusioned, I do not forgive.

That’s it. Love me or Hate me. Bleeh..!