Midnight Blues

forget me not series – The Romance of Ayin & Will

CHAPTER NINE

A little after midnight, Ayin and Will shifted to beers.

They were not that drunk, but tipsy enough to open up more about themselves.

Remembering their conversation the last time they had flirty coffee, she rested her chin on her hand and looked at him with a teasing smile.

Her, “So… Sir Will, I just finished my driving course. I’m not a student anymore.”

He grinned at her, knowing what she was about to say.

She playfully clapped her hands as she continued, “You’re now allowed to confess your feelings. The driving school owner won’t mind. You may start.”

Him, “If I remember right, you were the one falling for me.” He gestured with his beer. “You go first.”

She nodded and said, “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

She didn’t say a word as she took her time drinking her beer from the bottle.

When she finally glanced at him, he was looking at her with raised eyebrows.

Her, “What? I’m still thinking about it.”

After a beat of daring each other with their eyes, they burst out laughing.

She took the chance to ask him then what she wasn’t brave enough to before.

Her, “I haven’t asked you this yet. You married? In a relationship with someone?”

Him, “Separated. No girlfriend.”

She thought he wasn’t saying anything more.

But after several seconds, he quietly said, “My ex-wife changed her name and got married to a foreigner.”

She watched him as he took out a stick from his cigarette pack and lit it.

After a long drag, he said, “I don’t really blame her. I was just discharged from military training. I had a broken arm, got sick and was bedridden for awhile. I was very weak at that time.”

Then, as an afterthought, he added, “And poor.”

He shrugged, “Maybe she couldn’t handle me or that life anymore. She gave up.

She left for about a couple of years to work abroad.

When she came back, she was a totally different person. It’s like the person who left was Maria, and the one who came back was Magdalena.

There were rumors she was having an affair with a foreigner. My friends kept urging me to go catch them at the bar. I never saw them.

We had problems but I never cheated on her. There was no love, but in my mind we were married.”

She just quietly listened, trying to digest this new information.

He stared out on the street before continuing, “And then, without my permission, she took our two boys — twins — with her when she left.

They were just about 3-4 years old at that time.

Since I couldn’t work, that time she was working abroad, I was their ‘yayo’ (babysitter) in the house ever since they were very little.

I can still remember playing with them on the bed. They were quite a handful, always climbing all over me.

They loved to touch my beard or shut my mouth with their little hands whenever I fell asleep and snored too loudly. Then they’d wake me up with their boisterous laughter.

They snored when they slept, too, like me. We were like three little pigs sleeping on the bed…”

He smiled slightly as he took another puff of cigarette.

He continued, “But since the day she left, I haven’t seen them.

I almost went crazy looking for them everywhere but I couldn’t find them. Until someone told me she took them abroad.”

He tapped his cigarette a little too forcefully on the ash tray.

“I don’t blame her for marrying someone else, but I can’t forgive her for running with the boys like that without telling me where.”

Damn. She felt her heart tug and her eyes fill up.

She could read the deep pain in his eyes. There was anger there, too. He obviously misses his two sons.

She knew the pain of being left behind and hanging. But this should be much worse since it involves his children.

He stared at the falling droplets on his beer bottle as he continued. “Finally, after a few years, I traced them with the help of my police and immigration contacts.”

A mocking smile formed his lips. “I wanted to blow up New Zealand when I found out the foreigner was from there.”

Double damn. New Zealand was her favorite foreign country.

He took a swig of his beer.

She wanted to hug him.

He looked at her, then slowly smiled, “Too serious, huh? I bet you can submit this story to “Maalaala Mo Kaya?”.

He joked, referring to a popular drama anthology on local TV that features real-life emotional stories of common Filipino people.

She realized that he was done with this story and was trying to lighten the mood.

She gracefully accepted and didn’t dig deeper.

She drank her beer to clear her throat, then answered. “Very much. This certainly beats my own sob story about past loves. At least I never got married.”

Him, “What happened to you?”

Her, “I got dumped. Twice.”

Him, growling, “Those assholes!” Said loyally, swiftly, even without him knowing the story yet.

She burst out laughing. He joined her.

Him, “So, you’re single now.”

Not quite meeting her eyes, he added, “I didn’t see any sweet pictures of you and a man in your Facebook.”

Her, “Uh-huh.”

Him, “Do you regret it?”

Her, “What?”

Him, “Your past relationships.”

Her, “I don’t.”

He looked at her for a moment, trying to see if she was lying.

So she told him, “Don’t get me wrong. When it ended, both times, it was very painful.

You know that story of a girl who cried a river and drowned the whole world? The one who looked so sad in her photographs? That was me.”

When he looked confused, she sang it for him.

Then he burst out laughing. So hard that she wasn’t sure if it was because he got it or that she was so off-key.

When he quieted down, she said. “Each of them who came into my life moved me in a way that was beautiful. So I don’t really regret it.

Wistfully, she added, “I think that’s why we cry so hard after every end of a relationship. Because we realize that no matter how “assholes” they may have been at that time, they’ve touched us in their own, very specific, lovely way so that each experience becomes irreplaceable.

When it’s lost, it’s lost. And you feel that a very fine part of you also dies with it. We may find something new to fill us up, but we know the experience is never the same.”

He nodded. “Because we change every time. So yeah, not the same, but may be better. That’s why past is past. We cannot go back because we are not the same person anymore.”

Her, “True.”

The sipped their beers as they contemplated the topic.

Then, she looked at him. “But you know just what pisses me off, though? Them thinking we can’t handle it when they’re gone so they just leave without saying a word.”

He nodded vigorously.

Her, “Or maybe them thinking we are so insignificant that we’re not worth saying goodbye to… Hello… Where did all that love go?”

Then loosely, she sang again. “Oh baby, pleeaasse… give a little respect tooooo meeeeeee…”

Him, slapping the table. “Exactly!”

Her, “Look at us now. We totally turned out fine without them, right?”

He nodded, “That’s for sure.”

They both grabbed their beer bottles and bumped it. “Cheers!”

Her, “Why do people think that relationships are supposed to last forever anyway?”

Him, “You don’t believe in forever?”

Her, “Hm, I think it’s more of a question of ‘what do you think is forever’? 50 years, a 100? Or a thousand years like that vampire Bella?

We all die, right? Do you ever wonder if in heaven, we still retain such romantic feelings? Do we live together with them there as well?”

He shrugged.

Her, “We never really know, right? Or do we reincarnate and find the same love in this life in the next? Like, is it in a loop? For how long?

When you’re in a loop, isn’t that the same as being imprisoned to the same story over and over again? Where’s the freedom in that? Don’t we change at all?”

He nodded, “Yeah. When you think of it that way, forever is quite heavy.”

Her, “You know, what we really have is just this moment, right now.

So, for me, it’s more like knowing who you want to be with at present, recognizing a soulmate in your present state and seeing that person walk with you for a long time, or if possible, until one of you dies. If that is forever, then maybe I kind of believe in it.”

Him, “You believe in soulmates?”

Her, “For me, anyone who touches your soul so deeply and walks with you for a significant period in your life is considered a soulmate.

And I don’t just mean the opposite sex, or in a romantic sense. A soulmate can be a friend, family, or a partner.

I even think in this life, you just don’t get one, but different soulmates for every important phase of your life.”

He frowned, “So how do you recognize that person is a soulmate?”

Her, “Hm. You know when you get that feeling that one night with that person is worth a thousand nights with someone else?

Or that your lives and goals are so in sync, you’re just easily moving together, sharing one car in one lane, taking turns to drive?

Or that you’d rather suffer through something really bad, like a failed business or an end of the world scenario with someone, than spend your time tripping on an all-expense-paid holiday in Europe or somewhere grand with someone else?

Because that person’s presence provides so much light or warmth to your soul — it’s enough. You will find such peace with that person, you will be able to sleep through any storm.”

Him, “Hm. I don’t know much about soulmates. I’ve always struggled through life on my own.”

“But,” he gestured in emphasis with his beer, “I believe in destiny.”

Him, “When something is meant for you, it will happen. And if it’s yours, you give your all to take care of it.

I lost my chance with my kids. But I keep hoping their destiny ensures they’re having a better life somewhere, even if it’s not with me.

I still hope I get to see them again someday. Or at least, they know that not being there for them was not my choice. It was taken away from me.

I have learned to move past the pain by focusing on what I have now. So I’m very careful with what I own.

I think coming to Cebu and this driving school are my destiny. Life has been good here. I treat the school as my own child.”

If only she could hug this guy, she thought. She drank her beer instead.

Soon enough, the band singer announced the last call for orders and that they will be singing their last song.

They were surprised it was already half past 2AM.

As they listened to them play “Closing Time”, she wondered if this was the last time for them, too.

Will she ever see him again outside of driving classes?

Come what may, at least she had this night. And she didn’t want it to end yet.

“I’m craving for ice cream,” she announced.

He eyed their empty beer bottles and looked at her.

She knew it was a weird combination, but she could eat ice cream with anything.

When he saw she was serious, he looked around for what’s left open in the area.

“Convenience store or McDonald’s?” he asked.

“McDonald’s.”

It was quite a distance away by foot, but thankfully the clouds have cleared.

Breathing in that cool fresh scent after the rain, they strolled the two blocks of open fields under a starry sky in comfortable silence.

It would have been nice to hold someone’s warm hand at that moment.

She stole a glance at him. He had both his hands in his pockets.

After a while, she said, “You know that thing you said earlier — destiny…

It’s just like… if I didn’t quit my job, I wouldn’t have this break, then I wouldn’t have enrolled in your school.”

Him, “I think we were meant to meet. No matter where you might have been in your life right now, on a break or not, you would still have taken up driving lessons and enrolled in my school. That’s destiny.”

Her, “Hm.”

Him, “By the way, when are you going to take your long drive to Medellin?”

Her, “I’m not sure yet. I still have things to take care of for the new job.”

Him, “Don’t forget my offer. You can use me as guide instructor anytime you want.”

She nodded. “Thanks.”

The truth was, she was hesitant to bring him there. That’s her parents’ place, after all.

Even if she introduced him as her driving instructor, the fact that he’s a man, who traveled that many kilometers with her without other friends, would invite too many questions.

She imagined her mother’s quick eyes and senses. No, she wasn’t ready to be grilled yet.

To their surprise, McDonald’s was busy even at that hour. She figured they were customers mostly from call centers taking their… ‘midnight lunch’? Is that term even correct?

She lined up and several minutes later, ordered two sundaes and gave one to him.

He was supposed to find and guard an empty table, but still there was none available.

So she said, “Let’s just go around.”

So they slowly ate their ice cream as they aimlessly walked around the park.

Her, “Hey, check out the moon. Look how happy it is to be out after the rain.”

He looked at her smiling face, then at the glowing moon she was staring at. “Yes, it looks beautiful tonight.”

Her, “Do you ever notice how, after midnight, you find the darkest, deepest blue in the sky? It looks kind of black, but not really.”

Him, “I like blue, but not that kind. My favorite color is light blue like that of the day sky. A happy blue.”

Her, “I think I like midnight blue better because it makes the stars and the moon shine the brightest.”

Him, “So we’re like night and day, huh? Total opposites.”

Her, “Maybe. But you know, there are still many different shades of blue.”

He stopped her for a moment as a motorcycle passed. Then, they crossed the street and started walking on another block, still eating their ice cream.

Her, “Talking about shades of blue reminds me of Boracay island.”

Him, “Ah, Boracay. Amazing beach.”

Her, “Yeah. The way the different shades of blue are reflected in the ocean there is really, wow, beautiful. Not to mention the sunsets.”

He nodded in agreement.

Her, “Post a Boracay sunset online, then boom, the likes just keep coming. Chances are it’s going to be your most liked photo of the year on Facebook.

Him, “I’ll try that. I have Facebook now.” She grinned at him.

Her, “Everybody wants to go to Boracay, especially celebrities. Social media just keeps raving about its beauty and how cool it is to be there.

But you know what, if you live there long enough, you’ll discover that it’s not all pretty blues. There is also a dark side to the island.”

Him, “A dark side? What do you mean? You lived there?”

She nodded, “For about a year. That’s when I found out that it’s also an island of broken souls.”

Him, “You mean ghosts?”

That stopped her in her tracks. She burst out laughing so hard, tears fell from her eyes. This man was a gem. Maybe they were really night and day.

But then, as she thought about it, he had a point.

Her, “Well, you could say that. But it’s actually living people who act like ghosts because they’ve been burned by their life experiences.”

Him, “Ah.”

Her, “I have a brother who lives there, for more or less 10 years now. He’s one of those who gave up a promising corporate career for a life on the beach.”

Him, “Hm, a beach bum.”

She smiled, “Yes, that’s what he and the locals there like to call themselves.”

Her, “But he’s not jobless. Like you, he’s also an instructor — a kite boarding instructor.”

He smiled excitedly, “Mm, another teacher. I think we’ll be great friends.”

Her, “Yes. Anyway, my brother had the most interesting friends and clients – celebrities, rich and handsome men, people with Jr’s or III’s in their names who are heirs to this and that business and such. I used to have crushes on some of them.”

He just continued eating his ice cream as he listened.

Her, “Whenever my brother had kite boarding classes, I would hang out at the beach so I could ogle these men who I thought had it made in life. They looked so rich and carefree. Like their only challenge in life was to stay afloat on the board and control the kite.”

She continued, “I remember my brother would say to me then, ‘Don’t be too impressed. Don’t be fooled by appearances.’

I thought at first he was just being too nosy and overprotective that he didn’t want me to be close to them. It was only later when I finally understood what he meant.”

Him, “Why, what happened?”

Her, “You see, Boracay is a small island. Once you progress from being a tourist to being a local — this means someone who resides, rents monthly, or makes a living there — you’ll begin to see the other side of the hyped up or filtered stories on social media.

While I was there, I learned that those people who I initially thought had it made in life, were actually also struggling with their personal demons.

During my stay there, I met people like…

Burned out executives who couldn’t cope with the pressure set by their rich competitive circles so they escaped to the island…

Or business owners who suddenly went bankrupt and decided to work for the meantime as bartenders while they figure out their lives…

Beautiful celebrities getting totally wasted at the bars because they’ve just been dumped by someone. Imagine that, they’re already very beautiful and they still get dropped like that…

Then there were also those educated foreign men, supposedly smart, who got swindled by their local girlfriends.

These stories just go on and on, you could fill a library.”

Him, “I guess everybody has their problems. Everyone falls at some point. What matters is how well we rise after falling.”

Spoken like a man who’s been there, she thought. He had no idea how beautiful he was to her that night.

Him, “So, why were you there? What was your story?”

She shrugged, “The most common of them all – gugmang giatay (heartbreak). I actually made friends with strangers who also had their hearts broken.

A lot of them were men, you know. We called ourselves the ‘Sawi Club’ and every night we would converge at this place called Sandbar, which we renamed to ‘Sad Bar’.”

She silently chuckled at the memory.

Her, “They helped me a lot. Knowing their stories, you realize that nobody is a stranger to pain.”

Him, “I should have gone there as well. Then I’d have met you sooner.”

Her, “Nah, you had better things to do here setting up your business. How else would I have taken driving lessons with you if your school wasn’t around? You said it yourself – destiny.”

Him, “You’re right.”

She continued, “Anyway, being there on that island served as a great equalizer for us with broken souls.

It was no longer about one’s status in life. The poor didn’t have a monopoly to hunger, and the rich didn’t always have the best things the world had to offer.

It’s a place where people don’t get to strut their 200-dollar shoes or expensive outfits (I mean, locals, not tourists). In fact, many people there were just shirtless or barefoot.

Nobody – at least the people I knew — dared to think they’re better than someone else because everyone knows everybody’s going through some shit – heartbreak, bankruptcy, mental drain, and so on. So you choose to be kind.

And if anyone’s too arrogant, you’re left alone. Because people with broken souls don’t really have the energy to tolerate that kind of bullshit.”

He nodded. “I agree. But if you ask me, you should just bite the feet of those people who think they’re superior or still kick you when you’re already down.”

She laughed at the picture. “I’ll try that sometime.”

Her, “But most of the time, when we’re going through something, we just don’t have that much energy anymore.

Broken people often overstay on the island to heal. There, you learn to tune out, recharge, and just take it one day at a time.

You may be battling your demons but at least you can find refuge in a little bit of sunshine and blue sea.

And more importantly, you’ll find you’re not alone.”

She turned to look at him, “Isn’t it weird how much easier it is to heal among broken strangers than at home with your loved ones?”

Him, “That’s why I left and came to Cebu. It’s easier to start over, from zero, at a place where people don’t know you.”

Their conversation paused as they crossed the street towards another block.

Her, “After my time there, I went home with a totally new perspective in life. I’m no longer that impressed by how successful, titled or rich a man is.

Every time I meet someone who seems to, you know, has it all together, there is always this nagging thought at the back of my head about what kind of thorn or imperfection in life that person is going through.”

Him, “So what kind of man attracts you now?”

Her, “A good-looking one.”

At his narrowed eyes, she laughed. “Of course that helps. I’m still a bit shallow like that.”

Her, “Seriously though, for me, who I find most attractive now is someone who has known defeat, suffering, struggle, or loss, and yet somehow managed to find or fight their way out of the darkness.

For me, it’s no longer about how rich or successful you are at the moment, but how well you manage your life when everything falls apart.

Whether you break and go dark, or choose to rise from the ashes after getting burned.”

He cleared his throat loudly and said half jokingly. “Hm, I also went through defeat and rebuilt my life. Are you saying I’m also attractive?”

She looked him in the eye and said honestly, “Yes. Especially after hearing your story. You’re a very beautiful person to me.”

From his shy smile and the sudden shift of his eyes to the ground, she knew he didn’t expect her to give that very direct answer.

She secretly hid her smile. Aside that it was true, it was kind of fun to throw this guy off-balance from time to time.

Seeing a trash can at a cafe’s smoking area, she collected their now empty sundae cups and left him for a moment to ponder on her statement.

Let’s see how you respond to that one, she chuckled silently.

As she returned to his side, she saw both his hands were now back inside his pockets. They continued walking.

After a while, he told her. “You know what, after hearing you say that, this is the first time in my life I suddenly feel grateful I went through all that bad. You make me think it’s worth it.”

They looked at each other for a moment and shared a smile.

Then it was her turn to be shy. Not quite trusting her eyes to not reveal everything she was feeling at that moment, she was the first one to look away.

Around 4AM, they agreed to call it a night and go home. He hailed a taxi for her. To her surprise, he followed her to the backseat.

“I’ll see you home first.”

Her heart fluttered.

And then, when the taxi reached her gate, she made a last attempt. “Do you want to go up for coffee?”

It was on impulse and she fully expected him to say “No, thanks, another time.”

But still, she felt she had to ask anyway. Life was too short.

“Sure,” he said, then dug out his wallet to pay for the taxi fare and got out.

She lived on the second floor. As they went up the stairs, her mind raced as she realized she was actually going to have to prepare coffee.

“Um, by the way, I don’t have a coffee maker. So, it’s just 3-in-one coffee,” she said apologetically.

He nodded. Then, belatedly, he asked, “Will I be disturbing your family?”

She shook her head. “Nah. It’s just my sister, nephew, our yaya and me. Our parents moved out as soon as I graduated from college. In this house, we’re used to coming and going at odd hours.”

Though she knew, come morning, when they discover she had brought a man up, she will be teased and interrogated. Even if it was just for coffee.

She almost face-palmed.

What the hell was she thinking inviting him up at this hour?

Well, the deed was done.

Unlocking the door, she peeked inside. It was dark.

He just said nothing.

She decided to settle him at the balcony overlooking the street instead. “Just stay here. I’ll go prepare the coffee.”

She opened the kitchen lights and filled the kettle to heat water.

She took the time to settle her pounding heart.

Thankfully, no one in the house stirred.

She mixed an Original Nescafe with hot water in just one cup and brought it to the balcony.

She found him with his eyes closed, gently massaging the back of his neck, with his cap still on.

“Are you okay?” she asked him.

Smiling, he took the steaming cup from her and sipped. “Yes. My neck and my arm are just feeling kind of numb. Must be the cool air.”

She remembered him telling her about how he injured his arm during military training.

“It still pains you after all these years?”

“From time to time. It’s nothing serious.”

She sat down next to him and offered, “Here, let me massage your palm. They said it has pressure points connected to all sorts of nerves in our body.”

Without a word, he extended his hand.

She took it and, even without proper massage training, just proceeded to do so for a few minutes.

He was quiet. Too quiet that she looked at his face. He was staring out on the street.

What was he thinking? Is the massage pressure hurting him? That can’t be. He had such a big hand, no way her little fingers could hurt it.

But still, she thought, is she poking on some nerves she wasn’t supposed to and making the pain worse?

As if reading her mind, she heard him say, “This feels great. You’re quite talented, I bet you can put up a spa business. I’ll be your first customer.”

She knew he was teasing her, but she basked in the compliment. At her satisfied smile, he chuckled.

Then, he fell quiet again as he looked out to the empty streets.

Following his gaze, she said, “You know, there’s a popular Irish saying that goes ‘the darkest hour is just before dawn’.”

He was quiet for a few seconds and then said, “In the driving world, we have an equivalent saying — ‘there’s always light at the end of the tunnel.’”

He then turned his head to look at her smugly.

She grinned at him in approval. There goes the competitive man, not wanting to be beaten at word games.

He sipped his coffee then lifted his mug to her. “Here’s to us — may we have a bright tomorrow.”

When they saw the pale pink hint of sunrise slowly spreading through the sky, he finally said, “I better go. I still have an 8am class.”

Her, totally startled, “What?! Why didn’t you say so?”

He just shrugged.

She narrowed her eyes on his face and shook her head. “You are so going to miss that class.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’m a professional.” He winked at her.

Him, “Anyway, thanks for the coffee and massage.”

Her, “Thanks for your time, too.”

A few minutes later, she closed the gate after him with mixed feelings.

All night long, they talked about anything and everything under the moon.

All except for that one thing their unprepared hearts really wanted to say, and were waiting for…

I like you.

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