Wednesday, May 19
May 19 Wed.
"Are you SURE...?!" -Bong Omaga-Diaz
"Heh. At naniwala ka naman?!" -dad
Kuya and I went to Glorietta to meet with our cousin Kuya Dale. Kuya Dale is our cousin on our mother's side, and I haven't seen him in years. The most vivid picture I could remember about him was that...he was our playmate - me, kuya, and him, always getting into trouble whenever we visited at Zamboanga. I remembered he was tall, and had short wavy hair - Jose Rizal style. We'd play around our lola's house... (he was part of the stuff-a-banana-through -the-bird's-beak-and -break-its-jaw episode)
Haha, we used to have races in the house, and I'd always lose. One time, kuya and him dashed down the stairs as I was tying my shoes. I wanted to catch up, and took a big leap. Bad idea. I took a big leap down the stairs...and rolled my way down, and ended with a sickening slam on the landing.
Kuya Dale always tried to help me improve my posture. He'd squeeze my shoulders back and kindly tell me that I should really act like a lady.
...
That was before. Now, he was 21 - in college, taking up entrepreneurship, and he grew his hair longer. And I...
I was wearing a green off-shoulder top.
*People change...*
The moment he saw me - he was coming down the escalator at G4, and kuya and I were waiting for him at the bottom - his jaw dropped. He and kuya met a few weeks back, but he hadn't seen me until now. We just stood there - three very tall cousins, slightly gaping at each other, marvelling at how time changed us. He kept on exclaiming that I was a model. That he was so proud of me for being such a "lady" - with a straight back, decent clothes, and a smile on my face. I couldn't believe he was the Kuya Dale I once played around the garden with...he was so tall! And a lot more mature. Ah, but there was still some of the old Kuya Dale in him...which made me sling my arm around his shoulders and laugh like a lunatic.
The three of us hung around Starbucks for a while - in the smoking section. I was the only one not smoking. We chatted a little, and had a few laughs. Amidst the heat and babble, I only watched as they sucked on stick after stick, and released 2 or 3 years of their lives with every smoke-filled breath.
My eyes stared intently at the glowing embers.
I'll tell you this: everyone in that balcony longed to get lost in a warm, comforting nicotine heaven. EVERYONE.
What kept me from snatching a stick, flicking on the lighter, then slowly close my eyes as I "Hit-hit-buga"?
My promise. And the thought that a select few...actually gives a damn about me.
...
After a while, one of Kuya Dale's friends came over and joined us. Who was his friend? Bong Omaga-Diaz. A fashion designer. Kuya was thrilled, and did most of the fashion-chat. Kuya Dale joined in every once in a while. I just sat there and stared...still shocked at what Bong told me the moment he saw me.
Bong: *comes over to our table* "Dale! I was looking for you!" *looks at us* "Hello there, good afternoon..."
Kuya Dale: *introduces us*
Kuya: *stands up and shakes his hand* "Nice to meet you, I'm an avid fan."
Bong: "Why, thank you!" *turns to me*
Me: *smiles* *shakes his hand* "Nice to meet you, I'm Celine."
Bong: *pauses* *stares at me* "Why...you're so tall! Ang pretty mo pa... Do you want to be a model?"
Me: *eyes widen* *gapes slightly* "Ah...I-I...Th-thanks...but n-no thanks..."
Bong: *sits down* "What?! Why not?!" *shocked*
Me: *stutters*
Kuya: "Ah...because its not allowed in her school."
Bong: "What?! No way..." *leans closer* "Are you SURE...?"
Woah...man, I was shocked the whole day. Kuya was grinning - he always told me I could be a model, and that I was pretty, but just needed help with my self-esteem. But I didn't believe him. And now that a well-known fashion designer told me this...
*twitch*
After that, we watched a movie: The Eye 2. Yeah, I know its pretty low-grade, and just...well...surprising at times. We were laughing, really. But there were SOME images that were really kinda scary. I mean...if you see a body of a boy slam onto the pavement and get crushed on impact - but his eyes are still rolling madly, and he's muttering "Have you seen my father? Why does my head hurt so much?" ...you'll stop laughing. And when the boy's mother slams beside him, doing the same thing, muttering "What time is it?" ...you'll start cowering a bit.
There was one scene - when the protagonist (a girl) - just had her 3rd break-up, and tries to commit suicide in her condo unit. She wears a beautiful red dress, lies down on the bed, gulps down three bottles of sleeping pills, and calls her boyfriend. The boyfriend realizes something is wrong, and asks. She answers, crying softly into the cell phone.
"When you've been hurt so much...when you've experienced so much pain...that you can't feel anything anymore... What do you do...?"
...
I lowered my gaze. I remembered how that felt.
To wake up every single day, and take in the pain - drink it like it's a shot of tequila. Relish it, savor it, as it sears your lips and the inside of your mouth. You would want to spit it out - you don't have to take it, you can fight back. But no. You swallow it...squeeze your eyes shut and grit your teeth as it burns its way down your throat. And once inside your being...it swirls around, seemingly flooding your lungs with thick liquid. It then solidifies...and becomes a part of you. You become numb...trapped in a wastlend of your own frozen tears. An Icequeen...
For so many years, I have done that. So much, that I'm all suppressed pain and anguish inside a 15-year old girl's skin. It stops, though...with love...
But now...it looks like I'm gonna go back to being my old self again.
...
After the movie, we ate at Mexicali with Tita Connie - Kuya Dale's mom - my mother's younger sister. After a few comments about how much I've grown, Tita Connie and Kuya Dale went to watch the final show of Jersey Girl, and Kuya and I decided to go home.
In the car, I just sat there, staring out the window. With the rain blurring the view, and filling my ears with its soothing sound, as the world was covered in a blanket of tears...
I sank.
I drowned in my own emotions. I despaired. Everything I suppressed gurgled up and threatened to fill me with hatred and cynicism. My friends comforted me... But I was too afraid to tell them what I was feeling... I was afraid to hurt them.
"I want to push you all away, because you can't help me... You're all so happy and saved and loved now, and you try so hard to pull me up, but I can't do it... I feel so confused and frustrated and envious... I want to hate you...because I can't see what I've done to deserve this - and I can't understand why it seems that I'm the only one who doesn't deserve to be happy... But I can't hate you, because I love you guys so much, and I don't want you to leave me, I don't want you to believe me when I ask you to hate me, and oh... I feel like crying..."
*...*
...
At home, as I was gonna say good night to my dad...
Me: "Matutulog na po ako, dad...good night..." *kisses him on the cheek*
Dad: "I love you."
Me: *blinks* *embraces him* "Love you too, dad."
Dad: "O, balita ko daw, sinabihan ka ni Bong Omaga-Diaz na pwede ka daw mag-model..."
Me: *smiles* "Opo dad!"
Dad: "Heh. At naniwala ka naman?!" *laughs*
Me: *blinks* *stutters* *not knowing whether to love him or hate him* "Ah...eh... h-hindi ko po alam..."
...
Bottoms up.