“How are you feeling?” He asked me.
“Why does it matter?” I answered.
“You didn’t answer my question” he stated.
“Yeah? I don’t feel like it so shove off!” I said feeling my face heating up in anger and my head pulsed as my blasted headache continued to torture me.
What does he expect me to answer him? That I’m grand when I certainly am not? did he want me to tell him about it cos he most certainly know I would not.
I didn’t notice how long we’ve sat in silence. Him on the chair opposite me and me on the farthest left side of the sofa. I can feel his gaze bore through my defenses and I don’t know what’s on his mind when suddenly he rose to his feet and walked slowly to my direction. I didn’t know when he sat next to me or when he wrapped his arms around me like he was protecting me from something only he could see and I definitely don’t remember the time when I started sobbing in his chest as I leaned closer to him. All I remember was that I clung to him for dear life and sobbed — slowly and quietly at first and then, I just lost it.
He shushed me and rocked me back and forth. He made circles on the small of my back in an attempt to calm me down — surprisingly, it did calm me a bit. I’ve put an effort as I put both my hands in his chest and slowly push him away from me. I didn’t push him hard enough to get away from his embrace — no, and I didn’t want to either. I just need a little space to breathe and so I can think.
I’m a logical person and the type of person who doesn’t show my tears for “personal problems”. I’m a girl, of course I cry watching movies and in extreme happiness and extreme sadness but not when the sadness includes my problem — I’m that kind of person. I don’t like people bothering with my business cos I’m confident I can handle it on my own. I can do it, I always deal with personal problems this way, it hasn’t failed — not before, just now.
I sighed deeply and shook my head before I looked directly into his eyes. God forbid his eyes alone will be the death of me. His dark brown eyes seems to see right through me every time. For some people, when I say, “I’ve got it” or “I’m okay” or “Leave me alone” they take it as their cue to leave — you know, people just have to ask to look polite. Truth is, people can’t be bothered with “personal matters” — they don’t really care, they just have to save face or something along those lines. But not this guy.
I’ve just met him a good 3 months ago because we happen to have the same set of friends. We’ve just shared a few knowing smiles and glances as our friends made a fool out of themselves. The closest to conversation we’ve gotten was:
“Ugh. Won’t they ever stop drinking themselves to oblivion every time someone breaks up with them? This is getting old real fast.” He told to nobody in particular as he kept his gaze from our drunk friends but as the one who heard him and the only one sober enough to understand what he said, I took it to myself to answer him — I don’t know why I did and said the words I said but I guess, it just felt right when I answered, “I know. Tell me about it” and made a disgusted face in front of our friends who suddenly stood up only to fall smack face first at the floor.
END OF FLASHBACK
After that night he made an effort to visit me at work and “bug” me from doing my job. He declared it was his duty as a friend to take me out of my prison called office. He made my business his business and stuck his nose to every personal problem I have. I remember shouting at him one time where I told him that he clearly has issues seeing that he can’t keep away from my business like all my friends do. But this guy, no matter how much I tell him to shove off (which I’ve probably done a million times) or leave me alone or kept making him believe that I’m okay, make him see reason that HE can’t help me and I don’t want HIS help of all people, he wouldn’t leave.
Now, he’s giving me that stare again, like he already knows what happened and just waiting for me to tell him myself. But I can’t do it. Who could? It was too painful and too shameful — what I did, I’m not proud of it.
Finally, as I looked into his eyes, I took all the courage in me left and hope my voice won’t break when I told him, “I’m not okay yet, as you see — but I will be, someday. I’ll be fine on my own, I’m a big girl you see, I ALWAYS braved and survived MY storms.”
A moments pause before he sighed, as if in defeat and wiped my cheeks for tears and marks all while not tearing his gaze from mine when he sighed deeply once more before he said, “stupid girl, when have I ever told you that I want to brave and survive your storms with you? I have a storm of my own, thank you very much” and his lips broke into a grin.
“You didn’t — but I assumed you, I mean, you don’t want to?” I looked at him now with one raised eyebrow, my voice questioning.
“Oh. I do.” he said that in a matter-of-fact tone.
“But you just said –“ I said before he broke me off my sentence
“As I said, I haven’t said anything.” he said again now in an exasperated tone.
“But what — “ I answered again but he cut me off again
“I do want to brave YOUR storms and SURVIVE with YOU but only if you ask me to. I’m not that type of person — but the type of person I am is the kind that after braving and surviving your storm for the day will welcome you home in a chair — preferably near a fire place, with a towel in my right hand and a hot chocolate on my left finally finishing it off with 2 words that I’ll reserve for you everyday for the rest of your life.” he said before giving me his most heartbreaking smile that would have all the girls swooning over him but I’ve gotten so used to them that it has little effect on me but still affected me and made me curious
“Yeah? And what two words is that?” I asked him
He didn’t break his smile as he kept his eyes on me and I just noticed that his eyes are twinkling (I know, how can eyes twinkle? they’re not stars but honest to goodness, his eyes twinkled!) I was having an internal battle with myself. One part of me believed that he’s sidetracking me from recent events and that I should snap out of it but the other part of me that is now very dominating and is closest to winning the battle decides that I should give undivided focus to this man’s next words and that my problem is a small thing that I’m just making a big deal out off — it’s not as important — or is it? I’m really having troubles with what I’m supposed to think. I know the first one is right but —
“Welcome home” he said.
And I got my resolve at that precise moment. My storms would still be storms but at least I have a place or person who’ll be there to welcome me home when I can’t stand standing or running or crying or tripping in the rain anymore.
I have a home now.
He’s my home.
And suddenly, I had a feeling that it will get better.
** A/N: Sorry, I’ve just thought of this now. I like the idea of Home you see. sorry, my hand, pen and paper just can’t keep up with my thoughts.
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