Inspired by one line from Death Cab for Cutie’s What Sarah Said. Just google for the lyrics if you want to.
Wrote this a few months ago. Didn’t want to publish it at first. I don’t know why. So it just sat there in my documents folder along with a few other writings
I always found it so hard to deal with loss. I didn’t know what to do after losing something, or someone.
Teddy: “Anong gagawin mo kung may nawala sa yo?”
Jett: “Hahanapin.”
Teddy: “Kung hindi mahanap?
Jett: “Papalitan.”
Teddy: “‘Pag hindi mapalitan?”
Jett: “Kakalimutan.”
Teddy: “Eh kung hindi makalimutan?”
Jett: “Edi tatanggapin”.(snatched from Tulad ng Dati)
I wish it were that easy.
Ficlet is after the jump.
EDIT: June 23, 2008. Added a few lines.
—
So Who’s Gonna Watch You Die?
We went under the Acacia tree last Friday, just like all the Fridays afternoons before.
Just you, me, and the Acacia tree.
Talking, drinking, laughing until evening came. It always came with the stars and the moon and the clouds. It always did.
Although last Friday, you didn’t drink your beer. You just sat there, staring at the bottle, swirling and swirling it until white white foam formed.
I asked you if something was wrong. Of course, I sensed that something was wrong. Duh.
But you just stared at the Acacia tree and continued to swirl your beer bottle.
And that irritated me.
“Well, playing with your beer won’t tell me anything about what’s going on in that tiny mind of yours.”
“Nothing’s wrong, really.”
“Eh? Then why aren’t you drinking your beer? It’s gonna get warm. And I know you hate warm and foamy beer.”
“Yeah.”
And you kissed the bottle’s lips and drank and drank and drank until the yellow bitter nectar was no more. You wiped your lips with your cuff and set your bottle on the grass.
“So are you going to talk now?”
“‘Bout what?”
“About what you’re thinking.”
“Well…”
“Well what?”
“I’ve been thinking about what Joseph asked me the other night.”
“And that was?”
“He asked me what I was scared of.”
“Uh-huh?”
“Well, it was a really hard question, so it took me quite a while to think of an answer.”
“So what’re you scared of?”
“Of losing people.”
“What?”
“Losing people. I’m scared to lose people I really care about.”
“I’m afraid to lose people too.”
Silence reigned as the Acacia tree bent over us in the crimson-purple night sky. The sky’s hue was peculiar that night. I was used to seeing orange or red or yellow skies, but crimson-purple?
“Who do you think’s gonna watch you die?”
“What?”
“Who’s gonna watch you die? Who do you think will be there at your last moment on earth?”
“What the… Did Joseph ask you that too?”
“Just tell me.”
“Never thought about it.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know. Don’t really care, I guess.”
“I see…”
And there was silence. Awkward awkward silence.
The crimson-purple in the sky continued to prevail as the Acacia tree stood still, watching over us.
The silence, it was too haunting. It continued to taunt until you broke it again.
“Hey…”
“Hey.”
“Can I ask you a favor? Just forget about this conversation. Forget what I asked you earlier, ok?”
“Sure.”
“Just don’t forget about me.”
“Sure thing.”
“Thanks.”
—
Hey guess what?
It’s Friday. And I’m here again.
But this time, without you, only me, by the Acacia tree.
—
Thanks was the last word I ever heard from you.
And I never forgot.
