Storing Away

November 13, 2014, a Thursday

It was the 15th day of silence from you and I decided that I should really be serious and get my act together. A conversation with our common friend cemented that decision. I guess I have been half-assing this so called moving on, dragging the funk for about 5 months till you decided to pop out of nowhere again and disappearing just as abruptly too.

Assessing everything now with a better perspective, I actually have multiple choices, the first is to chase you, to insist myself on you and gamble everything; this could end with you returning my feelings or with me irrevocably miserable once again. The recovery period for that will take years and I don't have the luxury of time. Second is to just make self available for you, always waiting, always hoping, this also means being committed to you without you asking and without the assurance that you will ever come back. The odds are not smiling on me with this one as well. There's also the bitterness act, to retaliate and plot revenge, because boy do I feel like I deserve one. But that is also emotionally exhausting and that would require me continuously living with hatred, I can't afford that. Finally, I've arrived with the sanest option of all, and that is to cut off the mangled parts of my world intertwined with yours, patch the things that can be salvaged and try to heal and get a move on.

MOVE ON. That phrase again, 2 words that require so much untangling and cleaning up of the mess that resulted from that 2 months of craziness. Imagine, just 2 months and here I am sulking as if you were my lover for decades and I just lost you.  I guess the duration is not really the case here, it's how deeply I felt and how much access I've given you. I will now not judge those who grieve over short romances, most of the time they were the ones fueled by so much passion that the fire quickly burned them out. 

So a plan must be concocted. I don't have a solid one really, I just know that I must rid myself of things that remind me of you and the rest will follow, right? So I exchanged rooms with my brother, that is the place where I spent sleepless nights just talking to you over the phone, where I try stifling the sobs after our first fight, the place where I paced for hours on end in trying to come up with things to tell you that you may find interesting and the place where I laid, dreaming with eyes open of the times that I can spend with you. As for mementos, all I have are bus tickets, cafe receipts, tea wrappers, notes on calendars, journal entries and memories. I stared at my journal and sighed, I can't make my self tear even a single page, perhaps not now? For scholarly preservation, these will be data that can be used when I write my autobiography. Someday perhaps. My eyes reached for the bed and lying there is my  teddy bear, garbed with your blue shirt, the one  you lend me after my sudden visit. It still smelled like you, you told me that you already wore it, so it carries your after-day scent, earthy and warm. I just randomly grabbed it from the pile of shirts you have by your bed, I didn't want people thinking that I am having my "walk of shame", you hesitantly conceded, semi-protesting that it's no longer clean; but you should know dear, I didn't mind. The smell of you is like my personal drug, I can go on days not eating by just wearing that shirt. I pinched the stuffed toy's nose, it stared back at me blankly, I  carelessly took off the shirt, and not realizing it I took a quick sniff. Scents can bring millions of memories they say and I am in no position to say otherwise, because just as quickly as your scent reached my nose, the image of you sleeping came back to me. I shut my eyes and tried shaking the memory away. I tossed the shirt into an awaiting box, it looked lonely inside. I rummaged through my closet and found a pair of your shorts, almost falling apart really, I accidentally took it home after my first overnight in your place, I remember us constantly joking about it, because I also left something in your place and you teased me that I meant to leave it there. I'll toss my head backward and laugh without a single care in the world and then  you'll laugh with me. Okay D. Focus. Reminiscing. Not. Helping. It joined the shirt in the box. I must finish this tonight or else I may never make myself do this again. Lastly, from deep within the closet comes out a box of 3 differently printed neck ties. It was initially intended to be a congratulatory gift for passing your Masters exam, I know that you really wanted to study there. I was supposed to give it to you when we went to Baguio but the days passed and we returned to Manila without me conjuring the courage to hand it to you. I thought then that I can just give it as a birthday present but that day came and went unceremoniously because you were nowhere to be found then. And then you came back last month, without an explanation and I thought, "perhaps this Christmas then?" Once again, you caught me unawares and you chose to disappear again. To the box it goes, I looked in and found it odd. I am just storing away 3 objects and yet I feel that the box is not enough to contain all the heaviness that came with them. Before I back out, I closed the lid and contemplated on writing something on top, very reminiscent of Min, but I'm not her. I do not have the words to clearly explain the why to all of these. And you are not Ed, dear, especially when everything was just starting out. I kicked the box underneath the bed and tried forgetting about it. Monsters underneath your bed. Hehe, not funny D. 

I wonder if anyone will try weighing that stored away box will they amount to more than they appear to be? Will the numbers clearly indicate that I once wore your shorts for 3 weeks because I could sleep without hearing your voice at least once in a day? Or that I actually studied different neck tie styles so that I could tie yours if the opportunity presented itself? Or will it explain that smile on my face when a warning memo was being served to me for being 1 hour late after visiting you unannounced just because I am wearing your shirt? 

I hope that there is a sure indicator that I am doing this right, and that this is not just one of my "I-am-announcing-that-I-am-moving-on-but-I-am-not" episodes. I have to be wiser than that.