I checked my e-mail from my phone to kill some time, and a few minutes later, I spotted him outside the coffee shop. I squinted to see him dial a number on his phone. Right on cue, my phone rang as he caught a glimpse of me from where I was sitting. He walked into Mocha Blends as I tried to remember what I was there for.
I just need to know what happened, so I can forgive and forget.
Then that familiar stride. That familiar look. That familiar, timid face. Almost five months of not seeing each other, of hurt and confusion, and there he was right in front of me.
My question on my way to Mocha Blends: will it end up being a slap or a hug when I first see him? Either of the two scared me. When he entered, it was obvious he was calculating his move himself. After I looked at him for a moment, I motioned a quick hug, but he swept me in his arms into the tightest,longest embrace. He was trembling.
His back was on everybody else, so I had the honor of seeing the surprised expression on every customer's face. Public display of affection irks the Filipino psyche no end.
"I missed you," he whispered.
The sudden surge of emotion was replaced by awkwardness as we seated ourselves.
"So," he said.
"So," I answered back.
"How have you been?" he asked.
Now I've played this scene on my mind over and over before and I had a ready answer for his question. But he was faster.
"No forget that. I know I've caused you enough trouble, and I'm here to apologize for everything that happened," he said.
And as if to mock us, our song suddenly played on the background. I pretended to ignore the unexpected score, but recognition registered on his face as he continued.
"I know I said I wanted another chance over the phone, but thinking about the hurt I caused you, I don't know if I even deserve to ask that from you," he said.
I tried to lose the melody playing and his image in a brown shirt--my favorite color--and remembered the struggle to be okay on my own for five whole months. I remembered working so late everyday so I'd be too tired to think when I get home. I recalled making answers for myself to lessen the confusion. And I reminded myself just how plain painful it was to smile when I felt like crying each time.
"What happened?" I asked squarely.
As if to add up to the events unfolding, I spotted a van pulling over the parking lot. It was a very familiar van. Soon enough, my suspicion was justified: My officemates, four or five of them, got off the car. Now these people were the ones who suggested the venue for this meeting, and seeing them line up like little spies pretending they didn’t know me…I just couldn’t believe how slow I was.
I shook my head to shake off the silly image outside my window. Good thing his back’s on them. He didn’t seem to realize my little distraction.
“I tried to come home like I promised, but I wanted to surprise you that’s why I said I wasn’t. I booked for two airlines, whichever opens up. But then we started fighting, and you stopped taking my calls. I just got fed up, and I was letting things settle first. I thought it was just another one of our fights, but that we’d still get back together. But the days just turned to months. I did try to call you but you didn’t pick up. So I tried to move on, because I was mad too for us breaking up for no reason. But I can’t move on without you,” he said.
We looked at each other for a very long time, and I suddenly forgot all the hurt and all the doubts I harbored since we separated. I was thinking, whatever happens I was ready to start fresh and contented. I had no bad feelings anymore, and I felt lighter than I ever did in the recent past.
Nobody wanted to move. Clearly, everything has been said already, but neither wanted to start goodbye.
“No. Wait. Listen,” he said like he always did before. “Could we start over? Could you give me another chance? For the last time.”
Now I was trembling.
“If I don’t get back together with you, it’s gonna hurt. But if I do get back together with you, it’s gonna hurt too,” I said, more to myself than to him. And at this point, I just lost control already, I started to cry.
Then out of the blue, and I vividly remember how fast it happened, he reached for my side of the table to grasp my hand. He held it achingly that the strong feeling—of hurt? Yearning? Love?—was transported from him to me and back.
“I’m not even gonna promise you anything. But the past five months, I did nothing but think of what I could’ve done to make things right. And I know now, and it’s gonna be different, if only you’ll give me that chance,” he said looking at me straight in the eye.
So that’s my happy ending. But as they say, endings are beginnings too, and we really are starting another hard road. Being apart is not my concept of happily ever after, but as we always tell each other: “It’s part of the package.” I’m just grateful I’m taking this chance with the only guy who has ever captured my heart. :)
nd sooo cheap too. I've been computing the money I'm saving from not going to the salon. :) 
nd sooo cheap too. I've been computing the money I'm saving from not going to the salon. :) 
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