I came late. He was already there. However, it looked like I didn’t come just for him, but for a close female friend. So walking down the area where he and she were situated at, I didn’t hesitate to sit in another area – the area aside from where his physique was seated at.
We were sitting on different levels of bleachers; I was on the higher one; one level above where he sat. I chatted with my good friend – and he was just there; taking occasional glances but we didn’t spare him some. Even I myself didn’t know why.
However, I did look at him once; because I needed to check out how he looked that day: his hair was still shaved short; he was wearing that shirt he always wore nowadays, matched with those pair of dark jeans; and that pair of black Converses he never failed to wear. As usual, he was being nostalgic. Even as he was an important part of my life, I still didn’t know what these sets of clothes really meant to him.
Laughing with my friend, we were cut short when he suddenly stood up. He stood up with indecision written all over his face and reflected on every move of his muscles that it caught our attention- especially mine. He went up the bleacher where I was sitting at, and started walking back and forth behind me. My neck twisted back and forth, mimicking his pace. My eyes followed where he went and back. He rubbed the back of his neck occasionally. And then for some reason even I didn’t know, it elicited a smile from me.
As if knowing what his original intentions were – or maybe I really did, my right arm found its way stretching towards him – with my right hand reaching and touching his left hand. I looked up and gave him a smile, he responded. And then I spoke:
‘Just do what you want’
With that, I pulled him down to sit beside me. When he finally settled down, he smiled – and then, he did something else…
He laid down on the ground – and pulled me with him.
At first, we laid down on our sides gazing at each other. His fingers moved to touch mine – staring at every nail, as if admiring its colours. Then his hand found its way on my chin, and he turned my cheeks to the right and to the left, as if inspecting anything on my face. Yes, it had rashes. It had infections. He grazed his soft fingers on each of the painful spots, as if his touch was the best medicine it could receive so that they would finally heal. I just bore my eyes on him while he did that for perhaps, a good five minutes. And when it finally ended, I did what I really wanted to do.
I shifted my head from the ground and moved it to his chest. I checked for his reaction. He did nothing, he just closed his eyes. He was like that after all – you won’t get that many responses from him. But I knew, the moment I felt his left hand put a little pressure on the back of my head, as if subtly telling me to ‘Just keep your cheeks against my chest, close your eyes and let the moment last,’ that it was ok. And I did as I was told.
I searched for the beat of his heart. It was ‘lub-dub, lub-dub.’ That moment, I realized that what I originally thought – that I didn’t come for him was a lie. He was the only reason I was there. And then everything dissolved.