A Shot of Espresso

A Shot of Espresso

Courtesy of dscythe of peyups.com

Come on phone . . . . ring . . . .

As if the phone heard me. Never has its ring sounded like an eighty-piece orchestra to my ears, until now.

"Of course I have to keep up with my reputation of being late. Did you wait for my call?”"

My heart flew in the air as if it were a professional trapeze artist.

Hell yeah. I stared at the phone for about an hour just so you know. I was just about to throw it.

Of course not. I expected you to be late. What's new? Joke! So?

I could hear drum rolls in the background. Will I make it or not?

"I’ll meet you in about two hours. Starbucks Katipunan?"

By all means! Even if you want to meet up in Timbuktu I don't care.

"Ok. See you later. Bye."

Whipee!!! I'll do a cartwheel. Oh I forgot, I don't know how to.

I took a bath, not missing to scrub an inch in my body and after dozens of wardrobe changes, leaving my closet topsy-turvy, I finally managed to find something to wear. A tight-fitting shirt which you like so much that you always complimented me whenever I wore it.
Concealer, foundation, bronzer, eye shadow, blush, lipstick, gloss . . . . done.

Darn! I forgot to curl my lashes.

All set, I headed towards the hustle and bustle of Katipunan Avenue. I looked at my watch, one-thirty.

I'm early, now I'll really look excited.

I grabbed the newspaper from the other table and read every page from the headlines up to the obituary. At long last I saw you from my peripheral. Though I did not see you completely, I've already memorized every article of clothing you have. Every gesture that you make, the way you walk, grin and even how you comb your hair with your hands is imprinted in my memory.

"Did you wait long?"

Again you played your cards well. You were wearing your blue plaid polo and khaki pants. I have always had a penchant for guys wearing khaki and polo. Brilliant combination, of course you knew that ensemble of yours is not only my favorite. Its effect on me was like Achilles being struck on the heel, lethal.

"No, just arrived."

Of course that wasn't true.

"You really look pretty."

See? He really likes this shirt. I would like to thank Artwork for my outfit. It always work wonders for me, never fails. I'd buy something from there again the next time I shop.

"Thanks, you look nice yourself. Polo and khaki?"

Actually you looked so nice that I could stare at you forever.

You smiled. Your smile always made me weak on the knees. I felt like a candle which was slowly melting. Was it my imagination or did it really get colder in here. It's as if a breeze suddenly blew and made my hair fly smoothly in the air. Ok, I’m turning into a cheesy hopeless romantic freak now.

"Uhmmm, I have a confession to make. I made sure to wear this. If my memory serves me well, you've always thought I look good in this. Plus, I want to be the nicest-looking guy in polo and khaki you'll see today."

Now the candle's completely melted and all liquid. God, why did you have to be so good with words?

"What are you having? Oh I shouldn't have asked. Caramel Frappuccino with a shot of amaretto and a bagel. Right?"

What you said made me smile. You still haven't forgotten what I want. But I don't know why I did not want to order that this time. Maybe it was because I have always associated us with caramel frappe, overflowing with sweetness. But we're not a caramel frappe anymore.

"You got the bagel right, but I'll have espresso instead."

"Huh? You never liked espresso. You have always found it bitter."

Exactly. Bitter.

"I want to try something new. Besides there's so much calories in a frappe, I'd probably swim for five hours to burn it. And I really need something to wake me up…badly."

Yeah I need to wake up. As soon as possible.

After five hours of talking and caffeine overload, you brought me home. Just as when I was about to get off the car, you held me back and gave me a peck on the cheek. My hand still perfectly fits yours but it doesn't feel as perfect as it used to.

"I'm glad we're friends again."

Friends . . . .

I could not look straight into your eyes.

"Me too . . . "

I went straight to my room, took a bath and lay on my bed. I squeezed my eyes shut but I can't seem to fall asleep. I don't know if it was the caffeine or my logic battling with my emotions that is keeping me up. Pain is just like espresso. Bitter, but its effect is awakening and takes a long time before wearing off.

Friends. . . . .

I'd be happy with that. It's better than not having you. It's better than losing you completely.
That was the happiest five hours of my life. I am willing to trade everything for a few moments of bliss even though it means enduring the pain that seem to go on for eternity. I develop amnesia every time you are around me. I've already forgotten that you took me for granted. Never mind that you made my eyes sore for weeks. I forgive you though you don't show any signs of being sorry. I don't care. I love you. I love you so much it hurts. I love you so much that I can't seem to let you go. I don't want to let you go. But I know that I have to, I don't know when, but not now. Pathetic as I may be, I am still holding on to the very last hope that someday we still can be.

If only sanity could be awakened by a shot of espresso, then I would probably be heading towards Starbuck's right now. Not only will I gobble up gallons of it, I would munch on an entire bag of coffee beans.

i have no right bringing you here
knowing what i know feeling the way i feel
i have no right being so uncontented
being so confusedbeing so not for you