Down the Memory Lane

I just remembered everything, from the tiniest detail to a macro one. The chattering and clattering of sounds as the spoon and fork touches the dips of the plate.

And I just remembered. That I loved you and still do. When i thought the day could not go beyond ordinary it goes extraordinary. Way l, way extraordinary.

The day started with the usual morning struggle to wake up and enjoy the same old routine through out the day. Go out to work and then go home.

No, not today, for after going home, there is one final appointment, a love banquet to be held at Vigan Max's Restaurant. A Christian program meant to educate people about love in it's purest form. About love can lead to one man's ruin.

I know and get that. For society provides a wide variety of example. Ranging from failed marriage, broken families, numerous suicide attempts who clearly decided on the matter that to live is to love and be loved and not to love is to live. I don't condemn them for thinking that to end their lives is the end of the maze. It's not the worst case scenario, or at least that's what I ought to believe. Being hopeless, being a person with just a body, barely living. Being dead inside. It's like being dead but living.

And that is how I feel. After getting your hopes up many times to be run down just as how a roller coaster ride takes you up and takes you down in a turmoil. It gets tiring. Everytime.

At the love banquet I seated along with my coteachers to be randomly picked out later and placed into another most uncomfortable table which I dread for it's a table, place for students. To add to my discomfort, they are not just students for they are my students! When I thought it could not get any more awkward someone arrives. You arrived. One chair away from you is too near for me. To conceal myself I stick my head in the book of Fitzgerald. The beautiful and the damned. Which is funny. That could be us.

It was effective. For you did not notice me until.. until we have to face the entirety of the table as we dig into the food before us. Not halfway to my plate when I heard a familiar voice singing my name. Anne... Going once, going twice, and going thrice. I looked at you and said hi.

Imagine the horror, the horror I felt when you recognized me. I want to escape but couldn't for civilities sake. I gazed at you. And the way I gazed I know you knew I was asking for an explanation.

The message went through and you opened up about the failed meet up. The supposed meet up on Valentine's day. Explained why it wasn't put into action.

I'm sorry. Our salary was late and I was so ashamed to tell you and push through.

No.. no.. No need to apologize. I replied briefly and immediately. When all I wanted to say was. It wasn't fine. You should have notified me earlier. You asked me to go out exactly January 28 for Valentine's day.. I waited for that day to come.. I wake up every morning excitedly knowing that my first Valentine's date. No my first date ever is approaching. Only to be cancelled without me knowing. So how's that?

I said okay. Said fine. Even though I have generated conclusions why. I am a person of no importance to you isn't it? That's why you did not remember to actually inform me that is cancelled. Or maybe I am just a simple acquaintance to you. I'm not your priority. When you are, with me.

As I took off the covering of the chicken I did not notice that you were observing. As I went on you mustered all the courage you have. No, it is an overstatement for you are always like that. Straightforward. You need not to muster all the courage for I always did When it comes to you. I always did.

Can I have it? The chicken skin I mean. I gasped as you cracked the silence. Are you health conscious? You added.

Sure. I replied as I offer you the crispy chicken skin I just dismantled. Wondering why you even have to ask that when occasionally you went on and pick it up on my plate.

Arranging the plates didnt take too long for you helped me with it. From there, my imagination run towards the future. How we are hand in hand doing chores together. Our little minions out playing at the backyard.

All of a sudden, I snapped back to the reality of where we are and where we are going to be when I heard an announcement.

Look under your chairs. The emcee has announced. I checked and there is a half heart in it. As everyone looked at their own hearts, the guy continued on... Go and look for the other half of it. He/ she will serve as your partner and ask whatever questions are inside the heart.

I fancied you took a glance as to how the shape of the heart that was assigned to me. I looked at you. Ours didnt match, obviously. But the next thing you said is not at all obvious.

Can we be partners?

I look back at you. Wondering if I heard right.

Its ok, I answered as I gazed at your excited expression. While staring at the hand that grabbed you and took you away from me.

I was left with my bestfriend, so automatically we became partners. Second part is a cycle. One is required to move around and look for the perfect heart. One who doest fit but is exactly what you are looking for. You moved around. Not to me.

And the last part of the game. Its the ladies turn to go where and talk to the person of opposite sex that interest them the most. Needless to ask I choose you over and over. Though in as much as I would like to run to you, at that point in time, I restrained. For I saw your attentiveness in the woman you are with now.

I hate to realize that I am longing for you. In the same way as it hurts to be aware that you don't feel the same.

Relaxed. Its what I felt when the activity has come to an end. Before it they distributed flowers to every man in the room. Give it to the person whom they most desire.

You walked pass through me. You know what hurts more than that? Eyes centered on me for they know our story. Their sad eyes telling me how they pity me in that situation. i dont need it.

I get back to our table. Waiting in vain for the closing of the night. But it did not happen. Yet.

Someone softly dipped his fingers into my shoulders, as I turned, the red petals of a poor and dying rose met my eyes. Looking up, then there was you offering the rose.

My heart fluttered. The first rose ever that I received. Still not getting over that idea, you sat closely to mine.

I slip out of your hands. To manage a picture with my friends. You went up the stage, calling out my name. We had some picture. A photo which will serve as a storage of memories of what happened for the first and maybe the last time.