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Entry No. 5
IX
On the second morning I was staying with Mina, I saw her walk out of the room with only a loose T-shirt and panties on. But that’s beside the point.
We had a breakfast of instant noodles and settled down at the couch on the sala to watch a movie.
The day before, she was so busy with some papers so I stayed at my room trying to keep myself busy by reading. Her studies would be complete after she passed her term paper. The only time we were together was when we had to go out for dinner, which was actually our lunch.
After putting on the betamax, she placed herself beside me. After a few minutes, she settled down on my lap as if it was a pillow. I sorely wished she wouldn’t hear my heartbeat. I felt it was going to explode. It was only in the middle of the film that we started talking.
“Have you decided yet?” she asked.
“Oh, I’ve been thinking.”
“Don’t you want to call your parents? They might be worried sick.”
“I’ll do that, tomorrow.”
“Believe me, you don’t really hate them. It’s just the things they do.”
It made me silent. I agree with her. It’s just that I don’t want to show it.
A few minutes later, she then said, “I also ran away from home. But that was a long time ago.”
“What happened?”
“It’s a long story. I thought I had enough,” she cut her sentence. “Have you ever wondered what would happen if we could come back in time to correct all the mistakes we made?”
“No, I haven’t thought of that.”
“Tell me what you think.”
I pondered on the question then finally answered, “I don’t think we’d be happier then as we are now.”
“How come?”
“Because,” I was at loss for words. “Because that’s not the way things are.”
She was not looking at me nor at the television. “Maybe mistakes has a purpose. Not just to learn from them, but maybe to make us complete.”
“Have you ever wanted to go back in time to correct your mistakes?” I said.
“More than a thousand times.”
An awkward pause. She continued with another question.
“Have you ever thought that there’s always a purpose in life? That maybe the stars are really people confused with their own existence?”
What was I to say? Instead, I said, “Is there something you want to tell me? A story perhaps.”
She then stood up and took a cigarette from the table. She straightened herself from the couch and took deep puffs. Looking at the ashtray, she poured her heart out.
“I once fell in love with a man older than I am. I was seventeen and he was forty-one. Well, at least I thought it was love. Maybe it was my youth. It was more than the physical attraction that bowled me over. I guess it was the thought of actually being special.”
I could tell that she was trying to act with composure. That everything was fine. She continued.
“Well, he has a family of his own. For a while, I believed things would work out but it never did. I ran away from home. He works abroad and has tons of money. Maybe out of pity, he sheltered me on this prison cell. That’s why I study hard. I need to graduate so I could start all over.”
“Why don’t you come back home?”
“My parents won’t accept me. We are poor. Poverty is our way of life. And, you know how traditions are when it comes to having sired a child unwed.”
I did not know what to say.
“I also have a child. They don’t have a kid so my daughter’s with them. I could not possibly support her so I agreed with the arrangement.”
She then lighted another cigarette and brushed my hair with her hands.
“Hey, don’t fret. I have things under control and I do have a plan,” she was half-smiling. She then wrapped her arms around me.
“My tears ran dry a long time ago,” she said.
It was around noon. Though she was shaking, she managed to invite me out.
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