by Frances Shara R. Ney
All rights reserved, 2014 ©
‘True love comes in many ways’ they say.
I smiled.
I watched the little girl as she slid down the slide. She laughed wholeheartedly, unaware of the world, its complications, every problems and imperfections. I was just like her before, only, I was 19 then. I laugh so weird that it is funny enough that you will laugh with me. I’m happy with what I have. Loving parents and a twenty one- year old sister slash best friend. But I know I’m still incomplete. I feel loved, but I’m loveless. Ironic isn’t it?
It all started one night in January. It was cold and raining and I am feeling so sentimental. I opened my Tumblr account. I’m an anonymous blogger. My followers don’t know my real name, or how do I look. They just know things I blog, and thank God, they find it interesting. Anyway, as I was feeling so sentimental, I decided to blog about my rants, which is for the first time. I don’t blog my rants. Just now. It’s 23:45 and I will absolutely delete it immediately. I just have to let it out. So I posted it.
Five minutes later, I received a text message from my sister from the other room. “You are starting to get desperate.” I replied, “Fact guilty.” I sighed and deleted my post. I refreshed the site and saw that someone sent me a message. “Why did you delete it? I haven’t finished reading it yet” My forehead creased. Who could this possibly be? “I just have to let it out. It’s nothing important.” I said. He replied again. (I figured out he was a boy because his username was MisterWall) “Who the hell posts something to ‘let something out’ and says it’s nothing important. Of course it’s important. You could talk to me you know. I always loved your sentence construction.” I giggled. Sweet thing. “And who the hell loves sentence construction? Does my sentence taste like God himself served it with chocolates and bananas and words of wisdom?” I replied back. “That’s what I’m talking about.” He said. I laughed.
Days passed. We are still in touch. Um, not literally, like call or text messages only. For the few days, I have learned that he is really a boy, his name and his age (21). I learned his likes and dislikes and our mutual interests. We always have so much to talk about and I’m always finding myself wishing that the day wouldn’t end. I just want to talk to him all day, all night. I shared stories too, but I’m holding back. Maybe he really is a good person, but what if he’s not? I sighed. Today is the day. I looked around. Clean room? Check. I looked at myself. I look just the same. I checked my desktop, “You ready?” he asked. I replied, “Yes. Call now.” My screen went black. I saw his face. He saw mine. We talked. We laughed, and he laughed harder because my laugh is too funny. It’s weird it’s not awkward. I guess there are moments like that. I feel good. Maybe he does too. He smiled. I fell in love.
“You can’t call that love. It’s not love” My sister said to me. I pouted. “Just how many times are you going to say that?” 2 months has passed and she’s still saying that to me. “Until the day you’ve woken up. It’s just ridiculous you know? You haven’t seen each other yet, plus, you met him in the internet. YOU. ARE. NOT. IN. LOVE. Let’s say you like him. Love is much deeper than that.” She sighed. “We’re soul mates” I insisted. “Just because he likes things the same way as you do, doesn’t mean he is your soul mate.”
“I’m almost there” I texted him. I bit my lip. This is the first time I’ll meet him in flesh. IN FLESH, AND I AM AN HOUR LATE! Curse the heel of my right stiletto when it snapped into two when I’m 20 minutes away from home. Curse the opening time of the malls. Curse the traffic jam. I sighed. No need to stress myself. It’s done. I realized I’m nervous. What if he really is a serial killer? Ugh. I have to stop over thinking. I have faith, and it’s been what? Three months now since I first met him. I trust my instincts. I need a mental reset. I sighed one more time.
My palms are sweaty as I walked through the crowd in the park where we’re supposed to meet. My eyes searched for his familiar face that I see in my computer, in his pictures, and even in my dreams. Now, those dreams are gonna get real. Someone squeezed my shoulder.
It wasn’t the perfect meeting. First and foremost, I was late. Second, as he squeezed me, I shrieked. Say what you will, but you’re never prepared for a surprise attack. It deepens the very meaning of ‘Taking your breath away.’ I was gasping. Too late did I realize that he is the boy of my dreams, and unsurprisingly, people are staring at us. He laughed. He took my arm and we ran, out of embarrassment. It wasn’t the perfect date either, but it was fun. He’s not a serial killer. We laughed, and we talked more, like it’s not our first meeting. It’s really fun being with him. It’s different. It’s a change for me and to the life I’ve been living. He’s so caring, I feel loved. I felt comfortable. It’s like he is my safe haven. Deep inside, I knew, he’s the one. I guessed he knew that too, because before we part ways later that day, he kissed me on my forehead and said the words I’ve been thinking since forever. “Maybe, this could work”
“You can’t call that love. It’s not love” My sister said to me. I was actually getting tired of this. Exasperated, I rolled my eyes. “Fine.” She said. “Fine. Then how will it work? How will you know if he’s telling the truth?” I just looked at her. She raised her right eyebrow. “I don’t know.” I told her. “I just do.” And I really did. That’s why I liked being with him. I could count on him, unequivocally, to say exactly what he meant, no hedging. He had no idea, I was sure, how much I appreciated it. “Fine” she repeated.
Days passed by, it was fast. We keep in touch. I really wanted to work it out. So we tried. And it worked. And it’s one of the best things that I’ve experienced. I learned from him. He learned from me. With the trust he earned, I shared more. He did too. We dated again. We hugged. And I loved it. I loved how it affects me, my whole being and my fluttering heart. We held hands. We laughed more. He was mean, but was never off putting. He was amazing. He was perfect. He loved my flaws. I loved his. It made me feel he’s human, because he is. He saw through me. He reached through my soul and I’ve never been so happy to have someone else understands me. He was my wonderwall, and I am his. He said he loved me. And I said I loved him more. And we kissed, it was my first, and I’m so shy because I don’t know how to. But he laughed it off, and my lips danced with his. And it goes on for months, a year and another year. I have never felt so alive.
“Love is the universal language” I muttered. I’ve never understood it before. But now I do. It’s amazing to think how a person can change you. I was motivated. I was happy. But then again, nothing is permanent in this world, except for change. Change, is change. It happens anytime and like other unexplainable phenomenon in the world, it has no rules. Change is not like chicken pox where if you acquired one, the possibilities of never having it again are high. But again, change is not like chicken pox. I don’t know what happened, though it felt forever. It just fell apart. And I felt numbness. I guess we grew up, but we grew apart. He changed. Maybe I did too. And then it started hurting. It was like someone had suctioned out my insides with a vacuum in one swift move. It was the longest month, with a piece of me missing. And all the time my throat is burning, but I held back. I’m strong. I will not cry. But as long as I avoid it, the more it gets me. It’s literally as people describe it, it hits in waves, so it’s like walking along being calm, pretending, accepting it, and then being hit by a tidal wave…you can’t breathe, you feel disorientated, faint, hurt, lost for a second. Then you get back up again. “You really did love him, huh?” My sister said. “I did” I said, holding back my tears. “I..” I will not cry. If only we have that ‘second chance.’ “I loved him” Maybe we do, but when? “I still do” And it happened. She held me. And I poured it all out.
I shook my head. Back to the present. I watched the girl as she slid down the slide again but she lost her balance when she reached the earth. Everyone falls. No exceptions. Maybe it was how God has laid our life. To learn more. To appreciate more. To learn how to get up again. So we will be prepared for the worst and we will be much stronger than ever. Because sometimes, the future is terrifying. But I don’t have to be afraid anymore. I stood up, my back aching, to help her. But someone got there first. He knelt to the ground and made her smile. The girl laughed, maybe he said something funny. I just stood there. The girl looked at me, “Granny, Granpa said we can have Ice cream later.” I smiled. This was my destiny. The man looked at me. The same man I met from the internet, where love can be mostly untrue. But he IS my destiny, my epic love, my soul mate, my forever and with him I found the truth. I chose to be his, he chose to be mine. And I’m happy with my choices. “Okay honey” I said sweetly to our granddaughter.
‘True love comes in many ways’ indeed.
He smiled.
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