Follow Through

“I just never thought that he will follow through.”

Before, I only thought of the words “follow through” as mere words from Gavin Degraw’s song. It is only recently that I have come to realize what it really meant, perhaps, what his song really meant.

Over calorie-loaded NY Cheesecakes and underbaked Sacher Torte, watching raindrops fill the heavy-looking clouds outside the store window has never been nostalgic, and potentially fatal. As much as I’ve tried to control my lachrymal ducts from emptying into my eyes, the profound emotions I have deep inside can’t seem to find any other outlet other than my eyes.



“Breaking the No Sex Involved rule on your first date always has its consequences. This is particularly true when the other party implied that plain talking would just be perfectly fine,” said Rave, a long-time friend.

“I wasn’t looking for a relationship,” I rationalized, “and besides, I went to that place to just hook up. I never thought of commitment as another option. I just went there to get laid.”

It’s been two years since I last had sex. It was with my ex-lover who left for the States to pursue their family business. After that, I had another failed relationship with someone who could not reciprocate the love that I gave him. I ended us as the third party without me knowing such facts.

I’ve been burned ever since. Never did again I invested so much time, effort and ATP on a man. I surrounded myself with distractions—study, work, more studies. I became a living robot.



“When we were at that room, his naked body pressing against mine, I felt invincible, secure, strong again. And I got what I badly wanted. I wanted someone who will take me as I am, and love me despite my flaws. Who will accept the broken me and will make me whole again. In my deepest, darkest time, I saw a little speck of light in him. That esteem-wise, I still had it. It was all worth it.”

“What did he felt after the act?” asked Mars, my confidante.

“Like the usual. He felt manly, powerful, brawny—you know, the God Complex thing. The weird part is he asking whether we should take it to the next level or keep it like that. I don’t know but I think it was just his hormones talking. So I did what I had to do. I thanked him for the time and I went home.”

That is what I told them, but deep inside, I was crying because I made the wrong choice, and this time, I knew I was truly wrong. I fell for someone whom I’m never supposed to fall in love with. I kept telling myself that he is the wrong guy. I must not fall for someone I just met. Someone whose first date involves corporeal, worldly relations. This is not how relationships should start.

I am a realist. I know that I can’t get everything from a single person. People meet for a reason—for love, sex, fling, even for an unrequited love. Every person, every experience teaches us something, whatever lesson it might be, it is always a personal matter, and after that, you are never the same. Okay, I’m just babbling.

“After that night, he asked me for another date. And this time, he invited me for a formal dinner. No sex involved this time. And it was perfect. I got to know him better. And I told him so much things that I would never even say to someone really close to me. I felt comfortable with this guy. His wit, his charm, his actions—the way he sips his coffee and touches my hands—he was like the person I want to stay forever with.” I said further.

“But what’s the catch? Why are you not together?” Rave retorted.

“I guess the timing wasn’t right. I suppose. I was never right. Before the night ended, I let him go when I knew that he’s not even mine. I guess that was synonymous with saying, you can’t lose what you never had.”



Tears start to well on my eyes but I pretended to laugh. It is indeed a world of charades.

I never told my friends what I told him that night, because it will definitely break my heart, again.

“C****, I met you at the most inopportune time. I was lonely. I was looking for someone to cheer me up; to make me feel again; to make me the man who I thought I was not capable of becoming. I thought I could use some help—with your body giving life into mine. I don’t want to start wonderful things with a flawed beginning. It’s not that I regret what we did that night. What I regret is the fact that you and I did it. It should not be you. Because you deserve better than that.

“I will leave, but only for a while. Perhaps when we meet again, in the right time, in the right place, at the right opportunity, then, we could start something again. Something right albeit not perfect. Something that we could be proud of. Something that I would, we would cherish for our entire lifetimes. And I’m praying that that time will come. All I can give you is my hope. I hope you could give me that too.

“Goodbye C****. I don’t know if what I’m doing is right, but I know you’ll make this one right for us.

“Thanks for following through.”

*
Normal, happy posts will be back in a few days. Guess I’m not the jolly kind of person after all. Talk about crazy.