Chapter One
"This isn't the Romeo and Juliet story nor Pyramus and Thisbe, could be the unknown regret of Delilah after cutting Samson's hair or the untold tale of Medusa's faithfulness to Athena. Yet, perhaps I'm just like them all, I'm also a victim of Cupid's eye issues aimlessly shooting his bow and arrow."
It is not a usual morning when i step out of my room. I was expecting the sun to be beaming its light through the thin curtains of my old dusty windows. Still eyes half closed, reach for my glasses in the nearby table when I couldn't find it. Im about to panic when i sense the ties in my neck, i smiled to myself thinking, i am getting old. I head towards the cupboard, picking my favourite mug and made my morning tea. This is me, alone in the house built by a local carpenter who passed away before i could turn 60. It is not luxurious, woods are used as floor, wall, frames of glass doors and windows, i have a little sofa at the centre of living room facing the front door paired to an ancient television set, on the left side, there my little office with a table comprising drawers and an almost dying swivel chair. On the other side is the door i always wanted to enter towards a little terrace facing my garden booming with fine flowers mostly orchids and poinsettia where morning air feels heaven for my lungs, really feels young being there and relieved and don't know, sad too.
For now, i have no bookings. My business seems to be my bread-and-butter for a decade after resigning as the alcalde's private secretary. You heard it right, I resigned. It ain't a bad job for an unfortunate woman like me or should i say uneducated but I couldn't escape the fact that yes, i was just employed out of luck. No, out of Simoun's desire to make me his fourth wife. "Womanizer", i hissed. It was a long uninteresting story i cannot describe how inhumane it ended. Among all the men who paved ways to pursue me, one thing i told them all, "i am owned by someone".
With a cup of tea in my hands, walks slowly to the terrace as if savouring every step, as if i would miss something if i speed up. I sit on the rocking chair made of rattan and bamboo, sipping the tea... Oh! This is another set of not-so-tasty tea in my list. I heaved a long breath sounding like a sigh, looking towards my garden and then to the gloomy sky, i wish my orchids could possibly make their food though with the absence of sunlight. I smiled looking at them, still with flowers blooming, i could say my customers are immensely satisfied with the purchase especially those with the same age as mine— A kind of treasure for oldies.
The silence is deafening, wind slowly caressing my wrinkled skin, leaves falling from branches, petals of uneven margaritas sway as i hear a familiar hum and strung of guitar from the stereo of neighbourhood creating a nostalgic agonizing feeling for me. My visions are getting blurry as i remember my youth.
"I am not the only traveler
Who has not repaid his debt
I've been searching for a trail to follow again
Take me back to the night we met
And then I can tell myself
What the hell I'm supposed to do
And then I can tell myself
Not to ride along with you
I had all and then most of you
Some and now none of you
Take me back to the night we met
I don't know what I'm supposed to do
Haunted by the ghost of you
Oh, take me back to the night we met
When the night was full of terrors
And your eyes were filled with tears
When you had not touched me yet
Oh, take me back to the night we met
I had all and then most of you
Some and now none of you
Take me back to the night we met
I don't know what I'm supposed to do
Haunted by the ghost of you
Take me back to the night we met"
It isn't bad to dream. I used to dream of marrying a rich guy, that kind of push me to work in the hacienda Conchita. That's for the reason that the owner's sons are sizzling hot too aside from they are lying on the field of money but as they all predicted, that did not end well. I found no love but a painful truth that i could barely digest. I wish i listened to my mother when she told me that i shan't look for love in the den of wild lions because that simply, obviously is impossible. But stubborn i am, drown in the idea of taming such wild creatures by love as i name it, clasp in the reality's howling whispers, "you are not meant to marry a wealthy man, meager!" But that is just the beginning of my not so fairytale quest of marrying a sumptuous man who would dearly love me and i could love back.
I didn't notice i was crying already. I just don't know why up until now, there is something in my heart that seems so heavy, I could not fathom what, I can't pinpoint where. I just know that every time i hear that music, it will ache hard and i do nothing but cry, thought it will be released and i will be free. Yet, that ain't the case. I got a long list of regrets that kind of torturing me every moment i am alone. I wish i could turn back time. I wish i could have done better. I wish i wasn't selfish. I wish i was understanding. I wish i was brave to accept things that's been out of control and that i simply cannot change. I wish. I wish. Because if i did, they are still here. Or even just my lovely sister. I am getting old and all i can see when i look back... is pain. I suffered long enough yet perhaps I'm bound to pay a debt I didn't intend to owe, perhaps my collateral is to endure a furious pang.
My thoughts are excavating deeper when i heard this noise from my neighbour. "Ah.. Shit... Troy, faster! AHHHH." I am shocked. Literally i cannot move. Then i saw Macy on top of that man with tattoos all over his body in their backyard moving such that of a pumping dog eager to reproduce. Out of madness that's drooling over my senses i screamed, "IT IS TOO EARLY TO BE HORNY MINORS!!!" What is happening in the world. This isn't america that they can just do it anywhere at anytime. It's shitting me out. I am almost sixty and i just saw a live pornography at six o'clock in the morning. What a good start!
I retreated to the living room shoving the previous scenario i witness with my old disabled eyes. Made myself busy in checking for orders when i hear a knock on the door.
"Yes? Good morning." As i opened the door revealing a mailman with a leather bag hanged on his shoulder. "Ma'am... Ma'am Azucena de Heneral Santos?", he ask while searching from the pile of envelopes probably letters and mails. With brows furrowed intently observing... no one wrote a letter for me for four decades now. "There you go. This is the first letter i deliver to you Ma'am in my length of service", he said while bright smile is plastered on his tired but motivated face. I smiled back, "thank you, Mr. Boni." He waved a goodbye while i still stand there in the threshold, scanning the letter. A letter. A quaint letter without a sender's name. Okay whatever. I closed the door and sat on the sofa. What could it be. I scratch the envelope and starts reading the content. "It's been four decades Rit. I've been missing you. I am dying to hold you and never let you go again. Ever. However, if i no longer deserving, i just wanna see you so bad. We will visit you soon when i can withdraw my money to bring you good presents. Wait for us. Wait for me my love." The whole system of this old lady starts hyperventilating, i hold my chest as if making way for air as my young love squeezed my heart with ease but petty haunting and i cry when the idea hugged me like a cooing child in the arms of thy mother. The only person who used to call me that name. The only person I've been longing for years. I cry harder pulling my knees not knowing what to feel. He is alive. He is. And he would suddenly appear out of nowhere telling me to wait? I've been waiting for a very long time. What took him so long to come back. He told me he will look for me. He will search for me. Yet it's too late. I'm old and so as him. There could be no time left for us to be happy like we dreamt. And why "we"? Who's with him? And for the second time this morning, the music played like a soothing tune and stabbing melody. Didn't know it's my neighbour's fave soundtrack too. Because every single word in that song is a cut in my chest. I am bleeding... then i found my self drifting towards the past again.