Sober

Must get out, must keep busy, my mind screamed. The body dutifully complied. Five steps away from the north entrance, I counted five couples HHWW (holding hands while walking) with all the matching sweety sweety stuffs, oblivious of the crowd, oblivious of my envious stare. I looked down at my empty hands. I turned back. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all…

After much debate, I finally entered the mall. The croaky speakers blared. “Three months and I’m still sober….” A chill ran down my spine. Kelly Clarkson. Sober. Ahh yes, I remember. How can I not? I have listened to it countless times before, crooning with it, emoting with it. Maybe, just maybe, someday soon I’d be able to utter that same line with that same conviction. So-ber! Yes, I am sober!

Never did I imagine myself dreading such wonderful days as Saturdays, Sundays, and holidays. It wasn’t long ago when I waited with excitement and anticipation for the end of yet another week. Without you though, the end is no different from the beginning. Where I had once become ecstatic over Republic Act 9492, I now dread the looming long weekend without you. As if two days weren’t long enough! Even the arrival of August, my extra special month, failed to lift my spirits up. What good are birthdays without someone to spend it with?

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat as I see another couple approaching. They look so happy together – his arms around her shoulders, her arms around his waist, laughing gaily. That used to be you and me. We had such a great time laughing, didn’t we? My cornball moments would trigger a series of laughter which often ends with us laughing at my funnier “hic-hic” laugh. We’d hold hands, my left on your right, never the other way around, except when crossing the street. We’d talk all the way to the restaurant but would not have anything to say while eating except “chow time!” Were we always that hungry?, I wonder. We would walk a few, talk a few, and laugh a few more before finally heading home. In the parking lot, you’d walk me to my side of the car; look around to see if anyone’s looking before planting a quick kiss on my cheek. You’d then whisper a soft I love you in my ear before closing the door. I love you too. Oh God, I miss you…

I tore my gaze from the lovebirds and tried to focus. Now is not the time nor is it the place to be breaking down, I scolded myself, already feeling my cheeks flushing, my tears welling. I quickened my pace, my eyes searching wildly for an escape. Everywhere I turn there they were – arms around each other, lips entangled, hands tightly clasped, taunting, mocking. “Get away from me!” I heard myself say. It fell on deaf ears. “Go away!” I repeated. Sprinting blindly, I sought for refuge. I ran and ran, with only one thought in my mind – finding you.

I awake with a start, my head throbbing furiously. I remember it…I remember it all, the mall, the people, the loneliness, the tears… My hand automtically reaches for my cheeks - tears indeed, fresh tears. It’s okay, it was just a dream. That’s all it was, a wicked but harmless dream. Comforted by the thought, I turn to you. A sickening feeling begin to rise as it dawn on me once again. As before, the madness begins, the uncontrollable tears flow. Somewhere in the building, a song is playing. It was Fergie this time, “and big girls don’t cry…”