Saturday, July 28, 2012

Your and My Saturday (which should have been ours)

The day I threw your Levi's and Ibanez amplifier out.

It started on Wednesday. My sorority sister invited me for a Friday catch-up which I excitedly heeded. Since I would be out, I told him this would be perfect if he wanted to visit his dad.

The plan was he'd go home on Thursday night and be back late Friday night so we can do our errands on Saturday. We both agreed to it. I even saw him off when he left the office. Then, he became the jerk that he is.

I barely had a blink of sleep Thursday night worrying how he was. There were two scenarios in my head: he got into an accident and he forgot about my existence. I am pondering to this moment which was worse because the former meant his death and the latter, mine. I called and texted to check if he made it to Quezon safely. I continued trying to reach him before going to work on Friday morning. When I checked on my phone again at 1:30 PM, I saw his message that his phone died and he was in the bathroom when I last called.

As an analyst, that message meant more than the words he sent. A) A dead phone doesn't ring. B) He didn't bother letting me know that he had arrived in Quezon. C) He's a selfish lying scum

I didn't want to make a big deal about it so I decided not to respond yet, with hopes that we'd be able to work it out later that night. I was wrong for hoping for too much.

When I checked my phone at 9PM, I saw his second message for the day. He couldn't make it 'cause he had a headache but would be in Manila by the following day. Again, I chose not to reply because I was starting to get upset and I am unable to control the bitch in me in that state. I also ended up not being able to meet my sis because of heavy rain. I stayed by the office and drowned in San Migs and work ideas with colleagues 'til 3AM. And then, it was Saturday.

I woke at 1PM and there were no new messages that waited to be read. Still trying to keep the faith, I comforted myself with the silly idea that he'd walk in any moment to surprise me. By 3PM, I had to splash myself with the cold hard truth. I've known him for over a year and he's not that kind of guy. He can't even finish a song for me obviously due to the fact that he does not have the emotional capacity to truly think of other people. I'll elaborate on that later. The unanswered messages and calls continued.

At 5PM, I had to accept that he threw me out like trash on the 22nd of June and that's all I'd ever be to him - an insignificant dispensable thing. So I got up from the couch, took his jeans hanging on my closet door and amp that had been staring at me all that time and dropped them off at the floor's garbage bin. He must've foreseen this because his bass guitar was gone. The lucky bastard.

The gesture may not have made me feel better but it did make me get up. I showered, went to the dentist, had a delicious comforting dinner, got my fingernails and feet tended to and now, I sit at this coffee shop, recounting how much of an asshole I am to myself for letting you be an asshole to me.

The night is young and I want to waste my youth but the weather is on God's side. Before I further go on my plan to self-destruct, I have to get wet and risk catching a cold. No, thanks.