KIRSTEN'S POV
"Nothing..." Nanginig ang boses ko. A single tear fell from my eyes but I could care less. "Nothing happened. Hinayaan ko lang na malunod ang sarili ko."
I took a deep breath and look up to the sky to prevent my tears from falling.
I can't cry. Not in front of him.
Nabalot ng katahimikan ang paligid. Ipinikit ko ang aking mga mata upang dinggin ang pinaghalong tunog ng kuliglig at ng paghampas ng alon sa dalampasigan.
Hindi ko alam kung anong ginagawa niya ngayon pero ramdam ko ang titig niya sa akin. I hugged my knees tighter saka isinandal ang aking noo sa pagitan ng mga iyon.
My tears starts to fall. One by one. Hindi ko alam kung bakit pero hindi ko na napigilan ang pagtulo ng mga ito.
"I'm tired but I can still manage."
Hindi ko namalayang naiusal ko na pala ang nasa isip ko. Mas lalong humigpit ang pagkakayakap ko sa aking tuhod. Halos bumaon na nga ang aking kuko rito pero hindi ko pinansin ang hapding dala niyon.
I swallowed the lump on my throat upang pigilin ang paglabas ng hikbi sa aking mga labi.
I am hoping that he did not hear that because it was supposed to be in my head only. Hindi ko dapat iyon isinatinig pero may sariling utak yata ang bibig ko.
"You see, Guevarra," my voice is shaking but I kept on talking. "Hindi ako kagaya ng ibang babae na nakakasalamuha mo."
"Hinayaan ko ang sarili kong malunod hindi dahil hindi ako marunong lumangoy kung hindi dahil ginusto ko. I sank deep into this darkness because I chose to... Because I had to. I am scarred. I am broken. I am hopeless... Unfortunately." Marahas kong inihilamos ang aking kamay sa aking mukha at doon ako tahimik na umiyak.
He was just quiet beside me but I could feel his stares.
"My life... Hindi lang siya basta magulo. It is utterly and completely f*cked. I am not a beautiful red rose in the garden, Guevarra. You can't like me. I will just end up ruining you as well," I warned him.
I don't understand myself. I really want him to leave. Ayaw kong saktan siya. The past few months with him was a blessing to me. And I am convincing myself na kung anuman ang maging desisyon niya ay tatanggapin ko. But there is something inside me that is praying really really hard for him to stay.
"My mother used to tell us a bedtime stories. She made it all up herself." Napatingala ako sa kaniya. He's not looking at me. Nang magkasalubong ang mga tingin namin ay itinuon niya ang kaniya mga mata sa nagkikislapang mga bituin sa kalangitan. "One of the story goes like this."
He cleared his throat before he began telling me the story, "It's a story about a beautiful rose. Nakatanim iyon sa gitna ng isang malawak na parang na halos maihalintulad na sa paraiso."
"The sky there is always clear. Maraming mga paru-paro ang nagliliparan rito at sa gabi, punong-puno ang lugar na iyon ng mga nagliliwanag na alitaptap. It was heaven indeed. Sa lugar na iyon, walang sinuman ang hindi perpekto. Lahat ng mga bulaklak ay makukulay at magaganda. Lilies, sunflower, carnation, tulips. Halos lahat ng uri ng mga bulaklak ay naroroon. Ang lugar na iyon ay kinagigiliwan ng mga tao lalong higit ng mga bata."
"They will often go there to play or to catch butterflies or to watch the fireflies as it lit up the whole paradise. They could pick whichever flower they desire dahil hindi nauubos ang mga iyon. Once you cut one flower from its stem, two other flowers will grow instantly. That's how it work in that paradise."
Hindi ako nagsalita. Tahimik lang akong nakikinig sa ikini-kuwento niya.
"Then, right in the middle of the paradise was the most gorgeous flower among the rest. The red rose. It stands proudly and all the other flowers bow down in its elegance and beauty. Nangingibabaw ang matingkad na pulang kulay nito. The mixture of its green stem and red flower fits perfectly to each other. It is precious and admirable. Halos lahat ng mga taong nakakakita sa kagandahan nito ay gustong iuwi ang pulang rosas na iyon."
"But, along with its beauty comes a consequences. Among all the perfect flowers in that paradise, the red rose is the only flower who have a flaw," he paused. Tumingin siya sa akin at nagkasalubong ang aming tingin. "Can you guess what is the rose's flaw?"
I blinked multiple times. I had to swallow a couple of times to prevent my voice from shaking before answering his question.
"T-Thorns," I mumbled.
He smiled. "Tama. Roses have thorns. Thorns digs on our flesh. It makes us bleed and often leave a wound. It is the ugly within the beauty. The thorn is the reason why people in that paradise avoids the rose kahit na sobrang ganda nito. Nagkasiya na sila sa tingin dahil natatakot silang masaktan. They are afraid to hold it because they might bleed. They are afraid that it might leave a scar on their perfect being. Afraid that it might ruin them..."
Nagyuko ako ng aking ulo.
"To pick the rose, they have to carefully cut its thorn but only special kind of people could do that. And every time it happens, the rose is not happy. The rose feels empty and sad whenever they cut its thorn out of its stem. It's almost like the rose is missing something, a very important piece that makes it whole. That tiny piece that makes the rose be the rose."
"Pero iyon lang ang tanging paraan upang mapili siya kaya tinanggap niya na lang ang lahat. Iyong emptiness, iyong sadness. The rose accepted it whole without any complains."
"Then... A strange little boy came. He's described as a happy little kid. He makes the sun shine even brighter. He have scars all over his body. On his knees, on his elbows and on every possible places in his body anyone could see."
"The first time he caught a glimpse of the rose, he instantly fell in love. Hindi lang sa matingkad na bulaklak nito kung hindi maging sa tinik rin."
Kumunot ang noo ko dahil sa sinabi niya. "What you've said right now is just impossible."
"Bakit naman?" tanong niya sa akin.
"Because thorns are ugly?"
"As I've said earlier, the little boy is strange. He's unique. Saka puwede ba? Nagku-kuwento ako?" pabiro niyang anas.
I playfully rolled my eyes saka tumahimik na.
"Okay, let me continue the story," aniya. "So, the strange little boy fell in love. We can say that it was love at first sight." Nakangiti siya habang sinasabi iyon.
"He wanted to get closer to the rose but the villagers warned him. 'Lubhang mahirap ang nais mong gawin, bata. Kung gusto mo, hintayin mo na lamang ang hardinero upang makuha mo ang rosas na iyong gusto. Ang tinik ng bulaklak na iyan ay sing-tulis ng kutsilyo at sing-hahaba ng mga pangil ng aso. Masasaktan ka lamang kung magpupumilit kang gawin ang iyong gusto.'"
"Kailangan bang ibahin mo rin ang boses mo?" natatawa kong saad. Pinunasan ko ang munting luhang nabuo sa gilid ng mata ko habang tumatawa.
He glanced at me kasabay ng pagbuo ng malaking ngiti sa kaniyang mukha.
"Don't interrupt me."
"Then don't do anything stupid. Geez, hindi ko magawang seryosohin ang kuwento dahil sa kalokohan mo," wika ko.
"Shut up." Pinaningkitan ko siya ng mga mata.
"Anong sabi mo?"
"I said nothing. Iyong tunog lang yata ng dagat iyong narinig mo," he said then smiled innocently towards me.
I rolled my eyes, "Continue."
He cleared his throat, "The strange little boy did not listen to them. He shut their voices out of his system."
"He continued walking until he's finally able to look at the rose closely. Admiration is very visible on his eyes when he lift up his hands." Itinaas niya ang kamay niya gaya ng nasa kuwento niya. "The villagers continued to warn him but he doesn't care. What matters is the beautiful rose in front of him. He wants it... whole, including its deadly thorn."
"When the rose understood what he was trying to do. The rose also warned him saying: 'Hindi mo nalalaman ang iyong ginagawa. Sa oras na ihawak mo sa akin ang iyong mga kamay ay maaari kang masaktan ng mga tinik ko. Huwag kang magpapabulag sa aking kagandahan dahil maaaring ako ang maging dahilan ng pagkasira ng iyong buhay.'
Pero hindi nagpapigil ang batang lalaki. Ginalaw niya ang kaniyang mga kamay palapit sa rosas. And just like what they have said, the strange little boy pricked his finger on the rose's thorn. His blood dripped from his finger down to the grass underneath him... But he did not let go..."
"Instead, he smiled. Ngumiti siya sa kabila ng hapdi at sakit. Ngumiti siya habang umiiyak pero hindi siya bumitaw. He hold the rose firmly and tightly then he pulled it out, along with its root. The little boy went home with the rose and a bleeding hand but still... his bright and happy smile did not disappear.
"While the rose, as strange as it may seem, feel happy. Later on, they learned that the little boy is masochist. He loves pain. He enjoys pain. And that's how the rose find its own happily ever after."
Nakangiti siya nang matapos niya ang kuwento habang ako naman ay naguguluhan.
"Hindi ko maintindihan..." saad ko. "Paanong naging happily ever after iyon? The little boy went home wounded."
Guevarra looked at me saka ginulo niya ang aking buhok. I hissed while glaring at him making him chuckle.
"You said that you are not a beautiful rose in a garden but I beg to disagree. You are a rose, Mosqueda. With way too many thorns. The rose in my story does not need someone who will admire its beauty. The rose needs someone who could appreciate her thorns. Her ugliness. Her flaws. Someone who's willing to bleed. Someone who's willing to hold her tight even though there is a possibility that they will just end up getting hurt. A masochist."
He cupped my face using his rough hands then he rested his forehead on mine. He shut his eyes. Ako naman ay pinananatiling mulat ang aking mga mata.
"Let me be your masochist," he whispered sensually and gently.
Naramdaman ko ang init sa magkabilang gilid ng aking mga mata. I shut my eyes and the warm set of tears began to fall from them.
"I'm willing to bleed for you. Tell me your flaws. Hurt me using your thorns. I will accept it all. So please..." Kinuha niya ang kamay ko saka iginiya iyon patungo sa kaniyang dibdib. I felt his heartbeat against my palm and the way it beat so fast warms my heart. "Let me be your masochist... Kirsten."
It's the first time that I've heard him call me using my first name. And I don't know why but I just sob because my chest feels so warm. I've forgotten this feeling before but I remember what it is now.
Home... I am finally home again.