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Some Other Day

There is something in nothing.


“Hey Jupe, I’ll meet you some other day, okay?”

“Okay. Bye.”


For the longest time, I’ve had a crush on him. And 5 ex-boyfriends after (which includes Wentworth Miller, Wentworth Miller and Wentworth Miller), I still have that childish excitement when reading his seasonal messages as they come. I remember, way back “way back”, he texted me and said, “I just wanna tell you how pretty you look these past days,” but that was it.

We saw each other everyday: the same guard checked our IDs, we walked the same corridors, we loathed the same subjects and admired the same profs, but never did he ever say that to me personally or ever repeated it. I had hoped it opened doors but it seemed back then that he didn’t hold the needed keys. Do guys remember such monumental remarks that a female heart will refuse to forget? He might disown it as an innocuous comment when I make him accountable for such remark one day, and that would only dampen my spirits. Stupid people are supposed to forget things easily, but the stupid heart does the opposite. Why is that?

I keep telling myself this phenomenon is perfectly normal, although I can’t explain it at the moment. And so it goes that I still wish we became more than friends, although I have no regrets whatsoever about anything (or nothing) that has happened in my life in reference to our ill-fated love affair. Come to think of it, I didn’t exactly want him to be my boyfriend, ’cause it would end the dream, the beautiful blooming of an ethereal flower that’s just, like that, on the process, but will never come to be and like a flower that keeps on blooming, it will never die. My friends think I have lost some marbles to be thinking this way, for they say, “When you meet a guy and you fall in love with him, it’s unnatural not to want to be his girlfriend!”

It turns out that I was holding on to a lie. I fell in love, and I wanted to be with him. It was I who held the door shut when he tried to turn the key… The mind can transform lies to become truths, but a heart cannot tolerate falsehood.

I fell in love with a a sensitive, smart, deep, and melancholic guy. He’s the type of guy you don’t meet everyday you’d almost think he’s an aberration of nature of some sort. He’s poetic, romantic, and has this facility with words. I remember talking to him and time stood still. He’s the guy whose mind you’d also love to marry!

Before meeting with him for coffee, I had this story tucked up in the recesses of my brain:

We talked, just like before. He told me about his dreams, his woes, his feelings. He talked about himself and before I knew it, he began to talk about US! He told me he’s loved me all along, and that he can’t get me out of his system. He then asked me if I saw him in my future. He looked into my eyes, held my hand gently, and his eyes became all dreamy and glassy, as if to look at a ship arriving on the horizon, though we are at that moment in a coffee shop somewhere at the mall. At that point, I spilled coffee on his pants and he uttered a cuss word. He discovers that all along I was staring at the guy, Wentworth Miller, who was at the next table. I spoiled it all by saying, “Sorry about that! I’ll get the cute waiter!” He politely stood up, and said “Gnyt” at 5 P.M.

Of course in reality, things could go a lot better and a lot worse. Something tells me it’s the latter one, unless it happens that nothing will happen. A day before the scheduled coffee date, he texted me and said:

Hey, Jupe, sorry I can’t make it to our rendezvous. I’ll meet you some other day, okay?”

I said: “Oh, okay then. Ingat. Bye.” I cried.

It really was goodbye, for “some other day” never came. He forgot what day it was.


Ruth V. Mostrales
October 2, 2008 – 4:31pm


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