Losing Love/ Losing Friendship

I swallowed my food unchewed, and I choked after hearing Ziggy's declaration. Abruptly, he handed me a glass of water. His unwavering concern for me always shows, especially in some situations like this. After I take a big gulp, even can barely say a word, not because I choked but because of the feeling that's unfathomable. I shook my head. "No, Ziggy, I'm sorry, but I can't do this. You never know how happy I am that you're here as my best friend, and I don't want to lose it. I'm scared to lose our friendship just because our relationship changes to something more, and we may tend to be more sensitive and complicated."

"Are you sure you would prefer that way?" His melancholic voice is low and suppressed. I nodded slightly, eyes focused on my food, avoiding his gaze, sensing his frustrated sigh. "If it's what you want. . .. So, are you done? So we can go now."

"Oh, you're done, yes, me too. Now you will be going for ice skating next and. . . ." I failed to finish what I was supposed to say when he stands up in a jerk, not intending to hear whatever words I mean to say next.

"Let's go!" As briskly as he walks towards Bettina, is as sluggishly as I can move.

They're already inside the skating rink, and I, a lonesome spectator outside.

Bettina invited me to go with them, yet I found a neat alibi that I'm scared of it and the freeze burn; besides, I know nothing about skating. Bettina doesn't know how to skate either, and she's been holding tight on Ziggy since they got in. He, too, is holding her graciously. Ziggy, on the other hand, is a skilled skater. He has been skating since he was a kid. It had been one of their family's favorite bonding activity every time his father came home for vacation.

Zig's one hand is holding Bettina's hand, and the other is on her waist. I can hear Bettina's giggle every time she slips as so as Ziggy's chuckles. Being flabby and unstable, Ziggy's holding her tighter now.

Mindful that I'm hurting from what I've seen, my sights start to get blurry as the tears begin to form in my eyes. Yes, I love Zig, but I want to make sure that it's the kind of affection that a lover should have. I don't want to be unfair, but what if this feeling is just some kind of friendly love and he'll expect more.

Eventually, as they both are enjoying the skating when Bettina dramatically tripped, promptly, Zig grabbed her and wrapped her safely. His arms totally around her torso as her sexy limbs wrapping around his nape. I discern Ziggy looking at me, and when he notices me watching them, he kissed her on her lips.

The scene causes me emotional anguish, and I'm heedful that I don't have any power to conceal it anymore, for the crystal clear liquid, by then, escapes from my lacrimal. To avoid them witnessing such inappropriate reactions. I take out my phone to cover my face assuming that I'm taking shots on them. I captured such perfect photo documentation for our organization, showing this valentine's program's success yet the worst image that I hope I will never see again.

It's passed at 3 am, and I haven't slept at all. Somnolence never came to visit me. The feeling is heavy, crestfallen. I'm still staring at my cellphone, hopeful for Ziggy's text minus the conception of what I want to hear from him, maybe some explanation or excuse for everything that had happened on the skating rink, or just any messages that can make me feel better. Texting him first crossed my mind, but it's late, and he sure is asleep.

I lay back to bed, closed my eyes, trying to sleep because I need to. I still got a class in the morning. Then, out of the blue, my phone buzzes, there's a text. I jump out of my bed at once to check it out.

(Unknown Number) You might be sleeping yet. Sorry for texting you this early, just hoping to be the first one to say Good Morning!

(Cloe) Zig? Is it you? Is it a new number?

(Unknown Number) You and Zig are truly so close with each other that he is the only one you perceive to text you at his hour, and sorry, did I woke you up?

(Cloe) Not really; I've been awake, and who's this, by the way?

(unknown Number) It's Nixon; hopefully, Zig had already mentioned me. I asked for your number from him.

(Cloe) Yes, he mentioned you once. Do you always wake up this early, or you just haven't slept?

(Nixon) I woke up early today to study. We will be having a quiz later, and I directly text you the instant Zig send your number. I've been asking him your number for a while now and sent it to me just now this least expected time, a wee hour.

I was taken aback after I read Nixon's latest message. "Ziggy is awake? Why? Can't he sleep? Is he troubled too? Is he thinking of me?" As I'm mumbling in confusion.

(Nixon) Cloe, can I invite you for lunch today? I mean, can we eat lunch together in school?

(Cloe) Sorry Nixon, I already got a steady company, during lunchtime in school. My best friend, Zig.

(Nixon) Of course, how about after school, can I send you home?

(Cloe) Maybe, I'll see you in school.

The next morning, I'm a bit woozy, feet are heavy as my head, a comparable consequence for not sleeping last night. But it's all right, and I'm sure Ziggy is already there waiting for me at the jeepney stop as he always does. I can simply lean on his shoulder, take a nap on our ride to school.

Looking for him back and forth as I'm walking in the midst of scattered passengers, but he's nowhere to be seen, not even his shadow. Why am I not thinking that he might be mad at me over our yesterday's conversation, or maybe I don't want to think about it? I take out my phone, dial his number, it rings but no answer. I tried it again and again and again, but all are with the same outcome. Did it just happened by chance, or he really intend to cancel my calls? I've decided not to be cynical and go straight to school by myself.

Standing in our classroom's doorway. I move my eyes around the surrounding, hoping to see Zig, but still, he's nowhere to be found. Although our professor too had not arrived, still, it's unusual for Ziggy not to be around this late. Not, unless, his absent.

Not long, our professor breezed in, and tailing him is Ziggy, catching up his breath obviously been running down. I promptly take off my books from the next desk beside me, the usual desk where Ziggy sits. Ever since we're in the same class, we always sit beside each other. But, instead, he goes straight to the vacant seat at the back. I followed him with my gaze, but he'd never descry my presence. Everything is vague, and I'm unable to understand why he's acting that way clearly. I'm too puzzled, confused about everything he had been showing and making me feels this day, just really awkward and weird.

Lunch break, our professor steps out of the classroom. Not a second later, Ziggy follows him to the exit without a single glance at me. I let the situation slide despite my dismal mood. Until everyone in class sets forth leaving me alone glued in my set, musing, just as somebody taps me at my shoulder.

"I just passed by when I saw you alone. I thought you'll be having lunch with Ziggy. Where is he? " Nixon flustered once he asked me.

I shook my head as I uttered with grief. "Can you go with me to lunch?"

"Sure" Surprised yet without hesitation, he answered.