When the maid and I finished gathering all my things, I didn't realize we had formed a small mountain on our big bed. My work clothes mixed with my biking gears, small books stacked on bigger books, and my toiletries stuffed snugly inside my shoes. I stared at them coldly. I refused to be emotional. I couldn't afford to be emotional. By then, it was around 9pm already and I was truly exhausted. But I wasn't a bit bothered. I just wanted to save myself from the misery of having to sleep one more night on that bed. Even the maid's constant pleading that I stayed saying things will be patched up the following day didn't make a difference.
It was too late already when I found out I didn't have any luggage nor a big bag to stuff my things. I brought in my things one at a time in small backpacks from my apartment which I was sharing with some other people. I didn't notice I have moved a lot of things already. I had no choice but rush to the kitchen to where our large black plastic trash bags were kept. I got five.
Seeing all that I owned jammed and squeezed inside those trash bags were too much for me. That's when I started to sob again. I felt homeless. I felt forsaken. I felt dreadfully sad, that kind that makes you sigh deeply yet bereft of any depth and profundity. I mean, how unfair can things get? You work so hard on issues that value and preserve your relationship and you're not even granted a chance to air your side.
A friend came by later to pick me up. It took a lot of prodding and a bit of raised voice to make the maid help me carry my things down to the garage. I quietly glanced at her on her way down and was surprised to see her crying. She loaded everything in the trunk except for the giant teddy stuff toy I got from W. She gave me that, and goodbye as she hugged me.
Inside the car, nobody spoke for at least ten minutes. My friend and I both stared far out the window as far as our eyes can see. And then all of a sudden, I broke down. My friend suddenly had a misfortune of having to console a friend and holding on the steering wheel at the same time. We finally reached the deserted breakwater along Manila Bay. It was there that I wanted to rest for a while. It was there too that another friend came to meet us and comfort me.
And it was there, in the stillness of the night, when the whole city was asleep, when only the dead stones and crashing waves were near, that I recounted to my friends what happened. I cried for the last time and prayed that the relentless waves will carry my hurt far out from me never to show up again.
No comments:
Post a Comment