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A Sigh for A Sigh

I want my coffee served black this time and that quaint coffee shop served it right – the waitress gracefully placing it in front of me wearing a cute smile, always fearsomely efficient.

I like it when they served it a few minutes late, on purpose: a little delay to smell the café’s air - rich with coffee aroma, study the animated crowd and feel the ambiance before you get that first sip. A craving-agony trick that works well with me.

“Since when you become a black coffee guy? Getting old and bored eh? ” he said to break my deep rumination.

“I don’t know, I seem to love bitter things nowadays.” I replied without thinking, hoping that he will not follow up on that remark. To cut it off I asked him “So, how’s Maya?”

“She’s fine. We’re having problems like normal couple but we’re good.” He said with finality, also hoping that I will not dig on that.

“So when are you planning to settle down? Not yet tired of that bachelor wandering of yours?”

“I’m still enjoying it, I guess.”

“I came across that bloody blog of yours. As usual you’re still fooling yourself. Forcing yourself to be in-love – that thing you don’t believe in. Where’s that philosophy of yours that love is just a state of mind? That “logic-based thinking” you’re always insisting? And for crying out loud bro, what’s that love-at-first-sight thank-you-for-the-smile telenovela of yours! It’s not you, and it’s horseshit bro!”

“Ahh, that damn blog. I should delete it I guess - catching lot of inquiries. Well, things change. I am still human you know, also entitled to those crazy torpe feelings, and bro, you know that if I don’t write, I will explode.”

“Yeah I know, so, have you started writing that book? That was since our college days pa di ba?”

“I got stuck on this I.T. thing you know – have to force myself to it. I’m one of those unlucky son of a farmer, who doesn’t have much choice in choosing their profession. You know I love social sciences or psych: well that’s a different story. About that book, hmm, well instead of doing my spiritual walk, I ride that sick-cycle carousel, I know you know what I mean. And that crazy blog, well yeah, maybe I’m just forcing myself to that “fucking love” thing.”

“Hey bro, haven’t you learn your lesson? Look what happened to you and P_ _?

“Ah, that’s a different set-up, and a totally different story. It left my senses bleeding but it ends well. Learned a lot of lesson you know. ”

“O, c’mmon, my friend, it’s the same with that Ms. Kulet. I’m telling you, everytime you do that, you lose some part of you. You should leave high school bro, this is now the real thing. Grow up! You cannot spread yourself too thin. If you open up your heart to somebody, you should face the consequences. If you really love that Lady Vader, be bold enough and say it, but be ready with the consequences because by doing that, you’re definitely disturbing the serenity of things, the balance of the force, as you may put it, - and search your heart deeply before doing that, because you might end up with a “Tin-Tin tragedy” again. Maybe it is just a feeling you created. Just don’t force yourself and your heart. Someday, your mind and your heart will speak to you as one – and that is love, whispering to you. And stop fooling around goddamn it! – it will only make your mind noisy.”

“Amen to that, Master Yoda,” I replied with a squeezed heart, hurting, coz I’m reminded of that Tin-tin affair again. I tried to hide it, which I know I failed.

“You’re right bud, maybe I’m just a little stressed, you know I’m having set-backs regarding my studies, but that is not an excuse for this confusion.” I gave a deep sigh after saying that.

“Have to go now, bro. Chill out. I hope next time you will talk about those grand dream of yours - those photography and yoga class and that goddamn book man.. start writing it you bastard!” he got up and pat my shoulder.

“Thanks for dropping by bro. I still owe you a couple of beer.”

I saw myself alone, holding my half-finished coffee, now cold and lifeless. I totally lose my interest on it but I kept holding it, catching my breath with lines of sadness, like a sad Enya song, where the refrain comes like a sigh at the end of a regret.

I stayed for a couple of minutes, wondering and contemplating on the infractions of hearts that always veiled its enormity to the eyes of those who seek it. I am inclined to think that my own disposition must be naturally bad, or I could be guilty of such an enormity at so matured an age.

I do not care by the blows of life’s fist at my heart, but I do weep at being torn into pieces by these knives held by my own hands.

I know their hearts is giving me sigh for a sigh.

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