I am in pain. The love of my recent life has decided to gocold on me and this time it will be harder to resuscitate what has been alive. Yes,harder. This is not the first he has done this to me but then I will stay andbeg for a colder treatment.
Why can’t I get that he no longer wants me or that he neverever has?
Ugh! Look at me. I am 28 years old and I still talk like Iam 14. Maybe I am but most probably because I look at love from a very innocentperspective - one that is hopeful, endearing, giving and caring with zeroagenda and just warm. The kind that makes Meg Ryan movies a box office hit. Isn’t that how it should be? Or should I justtake a shower now?
I maybe far from knowing what it really is or that it isundefinable but what I do know is I want to have that with him.
A month ago I was telling a different story. I was okay forthe first time. I really healed. I started from going out alone, then drinkingand shopping and watching movies by myself. They were all pleasant feelings ofmoving on. And the ultimate miracle was I cared for my career again. I alsostarted exercising. These, to me, were clear indications that the center of myworld shifted back to me.
Then, he got sick. No, before that he asked me out. But thatshit did not push through because he suddenly got ill. To my misery and happiness,he started talking to me again about him getting sick and wanting to see meagain. Like nothing happened and like he did not know I moved on already onlybecause he needed me. Beyond my recovery, he knew that I care a great deal forhim. That would be a fact. Yeah. That and the fact that I already lost my othergreat love, Heron, to cancer six years ago. I would prefer to experiencesomething like that only once.
So, I gave in.
During the first week of his illness, we have been textingabout his plans when he gets better. Us: watching a movie and hanging out. Him: getting serious about his work and earningmore money. He has been diagnosed with tonsillitis that time. To both of oursurprise, he is still having fevers during the second week. They told him henow has Typhoid. I have entered panic mode and “baby’d” him really bad.
At first I thought I was just doing what I should be doing –a friend who was open to become more than friends with his sick friend, then I realizedsomething. The situation resembled what I failed to do with Heron. During hislast two years, I stayed far away from him because I promised to do so and alsobecause he was in a relationship. At the time of his death, I went to hisfuneral as a pall-bearer/ widow/friend and that was the demise of an era for me.In hindsight, I regret the fact that I declared I did not anything that has hadto do with him and I was a complete mess after that. This time, I wanted thingsto be different.
I did not want to waste time thinking about how far I shouldgo about caring for him. I just knew that I should. Caring I did, every day Iwould SMS him to ask about his health, chitchat most of the time. Entertain anddistract him from his condition while I rot in worry inside.
On the third week, Typhoid has gone but still the fever persists.They have tested him for Dengue - negative. By that time, I am getting a hunchthat he might be more ill than tonsillitis or typhoid or dengue fever but Ihave to stay strong for him and for myself. I constantly cry at night and haveover-exercised my body to outlast my agony which will greet me again themorning after. Like clockwork, I also begin to lose some possessions because I ampreoccupied thinking about him. I have confiding this situation to three of myfriends.
The fourth is the most crucial of all the weeks. He has beenin and out of the hospital, more tests have been given and the results are givinghim and staunch supporters, his family and I, the same thing. This has resultedto confinement at the hospital for the entire week. This hospital is just a fewwalks away from where I work but still he won’t let me visit. I respect hisdecision since he is a closet gay, as me.
We have stopped texting from there and this is primarilybecause of the location of his IV. So I just wait in absolute hope that he willcome out fine.
A few days later, while I was spending my morning at thechurch praying for him, he has been released. I remain standing where I havebeen told to wait. Believe me when I say I will be the first person to rejoiceabout this development and there is no doubt about that. However, I know at theback of my mind that we will proceed to going back to where our lives stand andthat moment has come as soon as he stepped out of the hospital. He hasforgotten about me.
Does it mean that he is well now? Did he find out what waswrong about him so serious that he won’t me know? Is he okay? I guess I willnever know. I am no doctor or have the knowledge to call a disease symptom butI know his cold heart.
