Chapter Twenty

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There was a time that I thought I didn't need him. That I thought just crying on his shoulders every day brings him so much burden even though he said it isn't. I just—

I just didn't want him on my mess. On my grief. He has a bright, whole life ahead of him, and I was blocking his way.

I thought I was not being selfish – I thought it was an act of selflessness.

It wasn't.

So much sadness clouded my mind, I couldn't think straight, and every impulsive thought that passed my head seemed to be right. I was stupid. I was sixteen and I was in pain, and everything I did was stupid when I thought it wasn't. I didn't even think of what Sean will feel. He who'd always thought of my sake first before his.

I was leaving him.

I told my parents I want to leave the house because every corner reminds me of Kuya. My parents, who were in complete vulnerability, gave up and accepted my favor. They thought I made the decision with Sean. I didn't.

I was so numb, so clouded and foolish, I didn't bother to think. We left the house, me leaving no traces behind except my worn out slippers laying right beside our door. We were off towards the city my Papa's best friend lives, and bought a house there. I didn't say anything to Sean – I popped away like a bubble, never to be seen again.

Weeks passed and every day seemed so slow... so painful. Every day there was this hollow feeling in my chest, like something was taken away from me and I was longing for it. It could be Kuya, it could be the smell of my room, my favorite song, but it wasn't. I lost Kuya but I felt like there was this another special thing I've lost.

It was Sean.

No, I didn't miss my room's smell. I missed his scent. How his shirt smells under the sun, and how his sweat smelled after running and after laughing so hard. I didn't miss my favorite song. I missed his voice. I missed its quality, its roughness, how it still sounded good even if it's muffled on the phone call. I miss the nights I fall asleep over the sound of his voice... I miss them. I miss them.

But I can't go back to him.

I can't.

I want to go back to him and tell him I'm sorry, but that will be when I've completed myself. I don't want him to break himself just for me... I want us both to be whole.

So I let a month pass, but instead of being whole, I've just become even more wrecked. Longing for Sean just multiplied, but I held them. Through those days I met Ralph, who was the son of my Papa's best pal, the boy I bumped with that Christmas, and I'm surprised he remembered; I barely did. We've had several talks because apparently, we had the same interests in books. It was a conversation I never had with Sean – but he'd always told me to bring out my thoughts on every books I read because he loved knowing what's on my mind.

It was summer, hot, and a month away from Sean.

All my life, I never chased happiness. I've always thought if happiness is for me then it is. Then it will come to me. I never make decisions just to make myself happy. All my decisions are practical, and before I make a move I think of others, and how they will be benefited fairly upon my decision.

When I studied hard, spent sleepless nights to perfect a Math formula, or spent whole day anxious about my next Science report, I wasn't happy. But it was for me – my parents said it was for me – for a better life. So I continued burying my nose in educational books.

When I didn't stop Kuya from leaving the house, I wasn't happy. I loved him and I wanted him to stay. Maybe I could've stopped him, but I didn't. I offered him my small smile and dry embrace, thinking maybe if he leaves he will be happy. I was not, but he will be.

The only decision I think that made me really happy and free was when I confronted Mom I didn't want the profession she wanted me to have. It must have made me sad because of her cold attitude towards me afterwards, but aren't the results better, when a weight was lifted from my chest? I was happy – because of Sean.

But when I left the house, I don't think I was thinking straight. My head was in complete chaos that I can hardly straighten my thoughts. First, I don't want to see things that will make me remember Kuya. Second, I was so sad. When Sean isn't around I feel sad, hollow, empty. Third, I was starting to feel that Sean loses the will to smile because of my grieving. I didn't want to burden him. So as much as I wanted to come back, I wouldn't. But somehow, heartbreaks and longing won over me.

Every night, tears are soaking my pillows. I miss Sean. I miss Sean. I miss him. Every piece of him. I want him again, but how? How can I face him with that broken soul of mine? How can I face him after leaving without a word?

One night, I opened my baggage to see my stuffs. And, hidden on the very bottom of my bag is a square wooden object, and when I pulled it up, I don't know which expression came first: laugh or cry.

My hand automatically flew to my mouth, tears stinging my eyes.

I saw his Christmas gift.

Wide opened nose. Tongue stuck out. Winking eyes.

I burst into tears.

I never knew I was longing, yearning, so desperate of him until I saw his photo. I couldn't imagine what prickling pain it brought in my heart but it was so painful, so painful, to have realized all my mistakes.

What have I been doing? I asked myself, repeatedly, sobbing like a wild animal in my palm, over my bed. I catch my breath, crying, wanting Sean to hug me the way he used to whenever I tell him I miss Kuya.

Why did I hurt him? Why did I leave him?

Why? Why? Why?

I remember his smile, his warmth, his laughs, his voice, his everything, the way he told me I will never be a burden, the way he told me he'll always be there for me. I miss his messages. I miss his calls at midnight. But I threw all them away, not thinking of what I was going to lose. I went and left him, when he believed I loved him. I went without leaving a word. I even turned off my phone so he couldn't contact me. I cut off all our communications and that was absolutely stupid.

I hurt him, while all this time he was trying to pull me up from the sea of sadness I was drowning into. He was trying to make me happy.

I remember that time when he'd almost broken into tears in front of me, on our door. His face was full of cuts. He was apologizing. He was so scared... so vulnerable. He wanted to protect me, a bravery covered in fear to lose me.

He loved me...

But what the hell did I do?

That morning I went back to our city that was only an hour away. I kept myself from crying, suppressed my tears. I knew where his house was. I want to apologize.

I will do what he did before. I will stand in front of his door, say sorry, bring him a present first, of course – maybe a bread or the chips he said he loved. He will forgive me. But even if he didn't I'll work for it.

I will—

When I stopped in front of his house, which he had pointed before, my knees are shaking. I was so nervous. I wondered if Sean felt the same when he came to our house to apologize.

I knocked on their door, expecting for Stephen, Steph, their mother, or Sean himself to greet me.

I met Steph.

Her face twisted into a surprise, then to anger – because of what, I didn't know. But all I could think of was blankness right after her palm struck hard right across my cheek.

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