I look myself in the mirror. For the first time I notice that I have aged in two years more than I had in a decade. I don't like what I see. Wrinkles on my forehead, several strands of white hair, dark circles under my eyes. What used to be my long, smooth and flowing hair is now dry with split ends.
I walked into the University campus on the first day of the semester. Though I was generally confident, I was feeling anxious that day. I didn't know what to expect, I was lost and I was late! First in the schedule was Freshmen Orientation at the auditorium. Where the hell is the auditorium? I looked at the map on my hand. Great! Now it is obvious that I'm a bimbo who can't figure out my way. I rushed to where I thought the auditorium was when out of nowhere, somebody bumped into me. Hard. My books flew all over the place and worse was, my cellphone hit the ground and split into three. I was so shocked that I couldn't even think of any curse words to say. 'I'm so sorry! I am rushing, I'll get back to you and pay for the cellphone repair.", the guy said then he rushed off. I was left there almost in tears. Mostly because of anger.
I tied my hair high in a ponytail in an attempt to hide what has been damaged. Fact is, all I want to hide is what I feel. What I still feel after two long years. Damn it! My hair is still horrible. I removed the black plain ponytail holder and rigorously applied hair moisturizer that I almost pulled out all of my hair. Let me at least hide my damaged hair for I know that I cannot hide anything else. My eyes show it all. The sadness, the emptiness and the dejection that I feel.
He found me. Surprising but he did find me. He was tall with broad shoulders and a smile worthy of a tootpaste commercial. He was three years my senior. I should be hating him for what he did. But I doubt that even the most unfeeling girl can resist his charms. He accompanied me to the cellphone repair shop nearby. Then we had lunch, though it was not in the agenda.
I look at my eyes. What used to be vibrant are now very dull. It used to be one of my best features. Light brown and chinky but not so. Most of all it was full of life. It used to emanate ideas and witty comebacks. Now it only emanate pain and loneliness. And I can't believe that the dark circles can actually be darker that I can't decide whether I look like a druggie or a panda. Now where is that mac concealer that I had?
"I got it! I got the job!", he excitedly screamed as he barged into my apartment. He rushed to me and hugged me tight. I was super happy for him. It was his first job and he was blessed enough to get what he has always dreamed of. On the first try. We jumped around for joy, fingers intertwined, then collapsed in bed side by side. "This is a good start. For us.", he said smiling.
The concealer at least hid the dark circles. Then I check my eyebrows. I used to make sure that my eyebrows are well-shaped. Now they are just bushy. I searched for my tweezers in my drawer then started to pluck my eyebrows. Tears started to roll down my face.
On my graduation party, he pulled me over and placed something in my hand. "It's my graudation gift", he grinned. It was a key. "Will you move in with me?", he asked. He invested on a condo unit just recently. It was still under renovation. "Yes.", I answered him without any hesitations.
After a moment I curled down on my bed sobbing until I cannot breath anymore. I can't help it. I hate myself for being weak. For crying over every memory that pops into my head. I hate this but I can't help it. Because after two years, the pain is still as fresh as though the betrayal only happened yesterday. I was crushed down to my core and I can't seem to get back up. No matter how hard I try.
My sister was in second year College that semester and has transferred to one of the Universities in Manila. She didn't have a place to stay yet. "Can she stay with us for a few weeks until she finds a place of her own?", I asked him. "Oh you mean Claire? Yah, of course! I consider your family as my family.", he answered smiling. Then what should have been weeks dragged on to months.
I look at the clock. I have an hour to get ready. It is my sister's son's first birthday and I need to be there. After two years of isolation, I am going to show up. I have to. I dragged myself to my toilet to wash up.
There is a point in a relationship when you just feel ready to take things to the next level. When the present is not enough and you just can't help but look forward to the future. To kids running around the house. To sending them to school every morning To family trips every weekends. To forever. I was feeling this for quite some time already and I was sure that he also did. So I was certain that it was it when he asked me for dinner at a fancy restaurant on our anniversary. I wore my new black above the knee, pencil-cut dress, which I also bought in white. It showed a little cleavage but not too low to be considered promiscuous. It has a very low cut in the back that showed off some skin. I was saving it for a special occassion. Then I matched it with black stilettos and a black Prada purse. I drove to meet him at the restaurant. He was coming from work.
I brushed my long dry hair, re-applied hair moisturizer and tied it back up in a neat ponytail. I finished tweezing my eyebrows. I put on some foundation then pressed powder. Enhanced the shape of my eyebrows with an eyebrow pencil. Put on some eye shadow and mascarra. I covered up the dark circles and blemishes with a concealer. I put on some gold earrings and necklace. Now where is that white dress? There. For the first time, I wore my white above the knee, pencil-cut dress that showed some cleavage but not too low to be considered promiscous. I matched it with black stilettos and a black Prada purse. I am all set.
I didn't expect him to be so tense that I was getting worried. I aksed him what was wrong. "I need to tell you something", he said nervously. I was thinking that a proposal was coming but something in the way the top of his nose was sweating, and the fact that he kept on looking at his plate instead of me, and the way that he won't let go of his spoon and fork though he wasn't really using it to put food into his mouth were indications that something was not right. I looked around. Everything else seem normal. There were a few couples chatting happily. Jazz music was playing in the background. The lights were dim but not too dark, just plain romantic. The waiter serving us wore a genuine smile. I called the waiter and asked for champagne. He came back and poured champagne in our glasses. He drowned the whole thing in one gulp. I stared at him, "What is it that you needed to tell me?", I aksed worriedly. "I got Claire pregnant.", he blurted out. It was too late to drown my own champagne in one gulp.
There is a knock on my door. I got up to open it. "Are you ready?". It was Claire with her son in her arms.
