I hate her.
I hate everything about her.
The way she struts down the hallway, all too consciously arranging her gait to showcase her unexciting derriere, unaware of the fact that she looks like a duck waddling around in the grass.
The way she primps her hair as she sashays out the door with conspicuously absent grace, and looks at me like she was the most beautiful girl alive and I was an alien from outer space.
Dear God, I hate her.
He was leaving.
His sudden announcement washed over me like a gigantic tidal wave. I had to painfully will myself not to stare at him in absolute dismay.
“You’re leaving?” I blurted out, unable to help myself yet acutely aware that I was repeating the obvious. At least I was able to stop my voice from rising, so that it came out as a casual question, feigning mild curiosity but nothing major. I hoped.
“Yes. For good. Today’s my last day here.”
Suddenly my mind went utterly, completely, hopelessly blank. “Oh.”
He looked at me, a question in his eyes. I looked down at my shoes and pretended to examine some obscure speckle of dirt that wasn’t really there. I waited. He said nothing.
Silence.
“Really, that’s too bad,” Mishelle broke in and shattered the awkward moment. He turned his head to look at her while I silently studied his face from out of the corner of my eye, memorizing it, committing it to heart and memory.
I knew I would not be seeing him for a long time. Perhaps not ever again.
“Yeah, I know. It’s not that I want to, I mean I love this place, and the people…” he paused and shot a glance at me, “but I have no choice, my family wants me home to take care of some things. Maybe…maybe I can come back after I’ve done what they want me to do…”
But we don’t really know that, do we? I almost shouted at him. You say that now, but when you get there, everything may change, and you may never get back. They may never let you come back. But I didn’t say a word. I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, I might say things that were better left unsaid.
Suddenly he looked straight at me. “I promised we would play billiards again, didn’t I? Looks like that’s out of the picture now, huh?”
I returned his look, but my eyes gave away nothing. “Yes. Too bad.”
We both fell silent once more. Seconds ticked by and no one spoke. Even Mishelle said nothing.
“We still have tonight,” he said at last. “I promise we’ll play one last time before I leave.”
“Sure,” I answered with a smile, though my heart was bitterly weeping inside of me. I didn’t want sad goodbyes and painful memories. I didn’t want to spend one happy moment with him knowing he would be gone the next day. I wasn’t sure I could handle it.
“Okay, guys, I think we better get back upstairs now. Our fifteen-minute break is over,” Mishelle piped up, breaking another awkward moment. Good old Mishelle. I wondered if she knew, if she could feel the words that were not said out loud. She was a good friend, but I couldn’t trust myself to share this. Not just yet.
The hours went by, all too quickly. I wanted to prolong the moment, stretch every single special second. But some part of me also wanted it over as quickly as possible. Plagued by various contradictory emotions, I was a bundle of nerves when night finally came.
This was it. This was goodbye.
I watched him as he cleaned out his desk, packing the last of his stuff into a backpack. It was 9 PM, and the office was dark. Mishelle was still working, and the light from her computer gave the nearby cubicles an eerie bluish hue.
“So…?”
I almost jumped. My heart was beating loud and fast, I thought he must’ve heard it. I looked at him and found that my voice had gotten stuck in my throat.
“So?” he asked again. “What’s the decision?”
I frantically tried to say something and suddenly realized that I was afraid to be with him. Afraid of the pain that was sure to come. I knew it would hurt more if I went with him, however memorable our last game of billiards would be.
“I, uh…” I stammered. “Mishelle and I were actually p-planning to catch a last full show at Ayala…”
“So?” Please stop saying that!
“I don’t know.”
He waited. I waited. Except for the sound of Mishelle tapping on her keyboard, there was silence. I wanted him to say the words, to tell me that he wanted to do this with me, to insist that I go. I didn’t know if he wanted the same from me.
I wasn’t sure how long we waited for each other to say something until he finally broke the silence.
He uttered my name. Just my name, but it sounded so heavy with all the words he wanted to say but couldn’t. I merely stood there, rooted to the spot, trying not to cry.
He sighed. “I have to go now. I’m catching the first boat early tomorrow morning.”
“Okay.” It was all I could say.
“Bye. Take care of yourself,” he said softly. “Bye, Mishelle!”
“Bye! You take care, okay?”
“Thanks. Good night, girls.”
I wanted to scream, to tell him to wait. But I stood frozen like a statue. He was gone before I could trust myself to move. Mishelle came up to me and glared.
“You are so stupid.”
“I know.”
I fell into the nearest chair and finally allowed myself to cry.
My dream man. That's what I like to call you. My nocturnal mystery man, my own little secret. Only when the hour is late do you show yourself to me, when silence reigns and I dream blissful dreams.
When day once again intrudes upon me, I lose you. I cannot remember your face, or even your name. I look for you in every man I meet, but I cannot find you. Sometimes, I think I see you, out of the corner of my eye, always just beyond my reach. Why can't I see your face? Why can't I remember?
Hidden from eyes wide awake, I simply shut mine and there you are. Alive in my sleep, living in my dreams. In our dream-world I know you, and you know me. You are mine, and I am yours. We belong together, bound by a love that seems so real I can still feel it when I open my eyes.
Who are you? Why do you haunt me like this?
Do you exist somewhere? Are you searching for me, too? Or did my dazed brain simply make you up, a figment of my thoughts, locked in my dreams…never seen, never real?
Heaven help me, I want you to be real.