Ei guys, this is my VERY FIRST (yak, i-stress daw ba) short story. I'm open to criticisms, but only to constructive ones. I mean, this is my first, ya'know...
Entrapment
I miss the times when I did nothing but dream of my notion of love. A seemingly fictitious love: me having the greatest beau a man could ever have - beautiful, sultry, caring. In short, I used to dream of the perfect love. But all those dreams have seemed to vanish. I wonder why in the first place I became so jaded. Was it because I stopped believing in the perfect life? Was it because I have seen the harsh realities at such an early age? Or was it because of my dysfunctional relationship with Angela? I don’t know. It seems that I have lost my mind sometime in the on-and-off, love-hate relationship that we had.
She was a beautiful lady. Of course, she had to be. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have fallen head over heels for her. Her beauty may be captivating but her manners were crude and unrefined – almost like those of a barbarian, to be exact. But that didn’t stop me from falling in love with her. There was something with that girl that just made me like her so much that I was willing to be her slave for the rest of my meaningless life. Was it her charm? No, she didn’t have that. Even though she had the prettiest face in the campus, her name doesn’t even ring a bell to most of the guys I know. Was it her enthusiasm? The girl did have an almost inexhaustible zeal only few can match. Or was it her shenanigans? No one knew how good she was in emulating people. I remember her imitating our Literature professor. It was possessed by our instructor’s spirit. Not only did she resemble in voice, she also mimicked her mannerisms. Hmmm… I guess I would really never know what made her so special to me.
I remember the day we had our first date. After five painstaking months of intense wooing, I finally got a chance to spend some time with her. I took her in a very classy restaurant and boy was it classy! Of course, the bill for all that we ate was also classy – classically unreasonably high. I never thought that a measly girl could that much in just one sitting! “I hope you’re not bothered with my appetite. I always eat like this when dining in restaurants.” With having only five hundred bucks to spare, we left the restaurant and went in a very cheap movie house (I was desperate). I asked if she wanted some popcorn and soda. I was surprised when she said yes and she even asked me to make both the popcorn and soda of the largest size. The clerk at the concession was so slow that my grandmother would be The Flash for his standards. After 30 minutes, we had everything we needed. Tickets, check. Food and drinks, check. My date, double check. We settled at the farthest nook to avoid prying eyes. There were not so many people inside though. Just a couple of daters like us here and there. I wasn’t really paying attention at the movie. To be frank, I remember nothing about it; even the title is still a blur to me. I crept my hand closer and closer to her smooth, sexy shoulders. I was amazed that she did not do anything. No budge, no fuzz. I again crept the same hand, this time towards her healthy bosom. This time though she reacted quite frantically. I understood her since it was just our first date and I don’t know why I was being so fast. Maybe I was just so eager to make her mine, mine and mine alone. After that incident, she asked if I could take her home. “God, what have I done?”
The very next day I apologized to her by having her follow a series of interconnected riddles and questions around the campus. I must admit that she was pretty good. She solved all of them in less time than I expected. At the end of the quest, there was a big teddy bear holding a letter. I hid behind a tree and looked at her anxiously while she was reading the letter tucked inside the arms of the big fluffy stuffed toy. The next thing I knew, she was crying uncontrollably. I quickly lunged at her and asked if what I did something wrong. “No, no. You’ve not done something wrong to me, yet. It’s just that no one has done these things to me. I’m just really happy that someone finally cared for me. And that someone, is you.” She hugged me so tight that it seemed she was never letting go. Of course, I also returned the effort. “It’s alright, hush now. I’m never ever letting go, too.” I whispered.
After that fateful day, we’ve never been apart, literally. We were always together. In almost all our classes (we didn’t have the same P.E. class), during lunch breaks, when going home, we were always together and always happy. Of course we also had some off days or in boyfriend-girlfriend lingo - cool off. But nonetheless, after three to five days, we would reconcile and be together again like nothing ever happened. Our relationship was pretty much like this until the day we graduated. To this day, I’m still quite astounded on how long our relationship lasted. Maybe it’s just because we’re destined for each other. Nah, I’ll have none of that bullshit. I don’t believe in soul mates. The world is just so complicated and jaded for that crazy shit.
On our last day as college students, we both vowed that each of us would never cheat on one another and that after finding stable jobs, we would get married. I don’t know what came over me that day. I was so eager to make her promise to never leave my side. She responded quite half-heartedly. She jokingly said that she would never commit to someone as unreliable, pretentious and miserable looking as I am. That really hurt my feelings. Of all the nasty things she said to me, those words really tore my battle-bruised heart apart (battle-bruised – for all the things I’ve done and sacrificed for her). I pouted at her and left her immediately.
How could she say those things to me? Was I not the perfect boyfriend for her? Were all my sacrifices in vain? Was my love for her just a trivial event in her life? I hopped on my car. I cried. Funny, I never cried when I broke my arm, or when my father died of cancer. But now, I was crying because a girl told me that I was unreliable, pretentious and miserable looking. I started the engine and drove like crazy. I was in a highway when I’ve noticed that my phone was ringing. I picked it up and looked at the screen; it was she. I didn’t answer yet. I wanted her to suffer as much as I did. I wanted to make her feel what she made me feel – unwanted. After seven desperate attempts to contact me, I finally answered her call. To my surprise, she was weeping. “Daves… I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I was just joking. I never really meant all of those things. You know how I like to make you worry...” “This time you’ve gone too far. I was hurt, you know.” “That’s why I’m apologizing to you. I’m sorry, sweetie. Can ever find it in your kind heart to forgive little ol’ me?” “How many times do I have to tell you that your southern accent stinks?” “Humph! Now you listen mister, I have already lowered all my pride just to make this stupid phone call. The least you can do is criticize my accent!” “You see how it hurts to be treated like that?” She didn’t answer for a whole minute. “I’m sooooo sorry! I promise won’t do it again.” “Okay. But, I’ll only forgive you if you say that you love me.” “I love you, so much. Now you say it.” “I… shit!” “Daves, hello? Daves, are you still there? Hello? Daves, this isn’t funny anymore! Daves! Hello?”
My car crashed to a ten-wheeler truck. All I can remember that day is people gathering around me and shouting for help. The rest of that entire incident is still a complete blur. It’s almost ten years since my passing and still Angela can’t get over what happened. What’s worse, I never got to say how I loved her so much. Now, I’m ensnared in this entire stupid ghost/soul thing. I can’t touch her. I can’t talk to her. Every time I try to get close to her she gets cold and shivers. I don’t want to make her cold so I stay away. But never leave her side. She still visits my grave. She would cry for hours just staring at my grave. She would always say while crying, “Why must you leave me. I said I was sorry. You didn’t have to kill yourself.” I also weep when I see her like this.
Her body has become frail. Her enthusiasm has now dimmed to apathy. Her beautiful smile has now faded into a grim grimace. She has become a mere shadow of her former self. And it’s all because of me. That is why I can’t go on. I don’t want to go into the light. Not yet, not until she forgets about me. Not until she finds another man that she would love as much as she did with me. But I doubt that she’ll ever find that person.
But even so, I will be willing to be on her side, even if it means not being admitted into heaven. I’ve already been to heaven and want to stay there for as long as I could. I want to be with my heaven – with my Angela.
