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“These four words don’t come
easy, I don’t love you.”
-These Four Words by The Maine
not all are broken
The alarm goes off after I hit the snooze button for the 3rd time. I tried to peek at
my alarm clock, and there it was. The bright red led light stared at me, letting me know
how many more minutes I have to prepare for class. It was still too early for me, I
predicted. But just as I was about to pull my covers back on top of my head, I was
awakened by a loud explosion outside my window. Immediately, I looked out. It seems
that the rage of the almighty Zeus is impending once again.
The rain was plummeting, as if attempting to reunite the earth with the ocean.
The wind was howling, singing various songs of despair. My type of weather, I thought. I
hurriedly dug into the pile of dirty clothes on the foot of my bed. I was never that type of
person who keeps everything in place. I dragged myself out of the bed, struggling to be
free of my covers who enveloped me in a sea of comfort. I have to get my phone, as
soon as possible. Who knows if my professors cancelled the classes for today? That
would be a delight. The downpour would make my commute very similar to the Trojan
War. I would stagger through the slippery roads or even skip through the puddles in the
streets. The roar of the incoming train would lead to my demise as it coincides with the
Ah, there it is. It's been under my pillow all along. Although I would not know
either since I keep several islands in my bed. I immediately opened my email, and my
inbox took me by surprise. I dropped my phone, and it was a good thing it landed safely
in my pile of clothes. A tear fell out from my eye as I stared at the ground, waiting for it
to swallow me. I could not believe it, he remembered. It was not a broken promise after
all. And there it was, the five love stories he promised he would write for me.
It was my senior year in high school. I was just as free spirited as everyone else.
I'm not really the typical teenaged girl, but I am not as different as one would imagine.
I'm pretty normal, just your average wallflower. With a month 'til graduation, my
emotions seemed to change together with the seasons. It was very slow, and then it
would come all at once. The feeling of restlessness suddenly hinted with anxiety. Or
when I was my happiest, a nostalgic scene would come barreling in to my chest like a
tenwheeler truck. The amount of adrenalin is coursing through my bloodstream. I was a
free spirited girl, about to end a chapter in her life and start a new beginning. And most
of all, I am in love.
I would say fate brought us together. It was last August, at the school's rooftop.
No one was really allowed to go in there, but I am a person made entirely out of
disobedience. I was there, playing with my guitar with a notebook and pen ready. I was
trying to write another song, and that was the only place quiet enough. I was singing my
heart out, letting the lyrics flow out directly from my head. Suddenly, I heard the door
leading to one of the stairways suddenly close. I immediately hid behind a pillar,
recklessly leaving my guitar and notebook in plain sight. Footsteps are getting louder
and louder so I didn't have time to retrieve them anymore. A head popped out from the
stairs, and I was so relieved that it was not a school administrator. I'm actually in big
trouble if they found me here as I was a graduating student. It was just you.
"What are you doing here?” He asked as I came out from my hiding place. I
rolled my eyes and heaved a sigh. "This is my comfort zone. I can't write in the midst of
all the chatters in the cafeteria. And besides, I have a short cut to my hall that way. "I
hurried towards my guitar and placed the cap on my pen.”Well, what about you? What
made you come here?” I asked as I try to straighten out my crumpled song sheet. "I
came here for a similar reason. I came for the serenity to be able to write the best poem
in the universe." And that's when butterflies come in.
I heard a knock on my door, and I can tell it's from the housekeeper. "They
canceled your classes. You can go back to bed now." Instead of feeling relieved, I was
more troubled. I knew that having no classes would mean I have to read your stories. I
could not make an excuse of getting ready, or cramming a paper due later. I have the
entire moment for myself, and for your stories. Or should I say my stories.
We lay in the park while staring at the sky. There were no blankets shielding us
from the prickly grass. No bottles of alcohol, unlike the couples who are probably
making out inside a tent or by the bench in the outskirts of the quadrangle. "This is
stupid.” you muttered, "The sky is covered in clouds. It's probably going to rain soon." I
just stared at the vast sky, contemplating my relevance to the universe. Contradicting to
what you just said, you laid still and remained to warm my hand with yours. And after a
few minutes, it did rain. "Hey, can you promise me something?" I sat up, bundling our
things and finally using the blanket as our protection from the rain. "Write five stories.
For me." You looked at me with a puzzled expression, and I read what you were
thinking. You are a poet, and never in your life have you written a short story. Yet there I
was, asking for five. Your answer bemused me as you said with utmost confidence, "I
I made a limp downstairs as I fix myself a cup of coffee. I am always teased by
everyone I know as someone whose blood is made up of pure caffeine. I'm not going to
drink this to keep myself sane, for the shock you gave me was enough to wake my
senses. The smell and taste of coffee was very nostalgic for me. It was your scent, and
it was your taste. The scent and taste of the moment we parted ways.
It was the first time in my life that I did not hit the snooze button. I was awake,
and I had a staring competition with the red led light indicating my impending doom. We
graduated a month ago, and you were set on leaving to Australia to get your
scholarship. I got in a good university, but I'm stuck in this country. I'm volunteered with
your family to bring you to the airport. It was an ungodly hour, but I remained awake. I
stood up, removing the dried tears from the corners of my eyes and I got ready. I waited
for your van in my driveway, as I sat there holding a box. A box that contained all of our
memories Polaroid, bottle caps, roses, song lyrics, and a lot more. When I saw a light
approaching our curb, I plastered a smile across my face. I could not bear it if your last
memory of me was that I was a wreck.
I pulled out a paper bag that was accumulating dust under my bed. It contained
several postcards, posters and some button pins. The typical touristy stuff someone
would send a friend who lives far away. I read the transition of your notes in the
postcards, ranging from I wish you were here to I hope you are doing well. I brushed my
fingers among the smudges in the ink that were evident in the cards you sent me. The
feelings are starting to rush back once again, but I repressed it with more gulps of
coffee. It was not bitter at all, and so am I.
It was wintertime when I received a message from you. Each email you sent was
very different from the former one you sent me. You could sense that the distance was
slowly ripping us apart, and I'm starting to accept that. The warmth of your presence
was gone, and so are the butterflies. The time difference between us is keeping us
further, and perhaps, love was not enough to bind us. Every element of love seemed to
weaken our relationship, and the two of us can see it crumble. We decided to just end it
while there was still amount of love left, for even God cannot save us. Your last words
were, "I would still keep my promise. Never forget."
I'm glad your promise was not broken, but we sure are.
“My love for you was
bulletproof, but you’re the
one who shot me.”
-Bulletproof Love by Pierce the Veil
recovering the past
I had always been eccentric. I took up Archeology for my extra credit class, which
is different from 99% of the population in our institution. Out of the 900 kids who could
afford education here in my subdivision, only 17 of us took up archeology. According to
history, men used to excavate the soil in order to attain artifacts. There was no land
present in earth anymore, as all the ground was covered in asphalt for convenience.
Normal soil would collapse hundred of buildings in a small hectare of land. For now,
reading something from paper is what archaeologists do.
I went to the biggest book mine to start my final requirement. I floated to every
isle, looking for quite an interesting topic to discuss about human behavior. For sure, the
topic about something called nature would prevail among the class. I looked through all
sections ranging from Religion, Languages, Social Sciences, as I reached the Fiction
section. I used to go here to laugh at all the assumptions of the human kind of the
human kind were, and how absurd they seemed. But alas, this library contained and
preserved far more books than the normal library I went to. It had a section very
unfamiliar, as it was the first time I encountered such word. Romance.
Once, there was a myth that a lady travelled through time in order to fullfill her
dreams of being in love. Love was a very unnatural thing to say, as love was something
made by mankind ages ago to procreate. We have test tubes, sperm banks, egg
incubators and all of those in all hospitals owned by the government. We do not need
love anymore. But the story says that once she came back, she could not stop crying.
According to her, she lost the feeling that made her feel alive and a human once again.
She commited suicide right at that moment.
I got curious and I picked a book from the shelf. I grabbed some gloves from the
shelf as the book was delicate due to old age. The cover was pretty bleak, just a picture
of a rose floating in space, its petals slowly cascading. It was hardbound, just like most
of the books in this library. The paperbacks were contained in a specially airconditioned
floor, and I hate the cold as much as I hate being more careful than being informed. It
looked very common, as most books I have touched are pretty much similar to it,
belonging to the era of the last set of published books in 2078.
On the contrary, the feelings that transpired to my brain are very unusual. There
was also the tingling sensation in my spinal bone, the cloud of mist developing in my
stomach, my blood rushing to my vessels as my heart was pumping more than the
usual rate per second. It was a feeling of a rush I have never experienced, as I have
never witnessed something that bizaare in my whole existence. Is that the feeling of
love? Is that the feeling the woman wanted so much that she exchanged her own life
just to get it back?
Curiosity spread like a wildfire in my brain as I checked out of the book mine. I
needed a proper research, so I switched on the data connector chip implanted on my
brain by clicking the switch behind my ear. I needed a pass to the alternate dimension.
That was how the woman was rumored to travel through time. I booked my shift in
around 30 minutes, allowing me to pack up and prepare for the travelling. I ordered an
elixir to lessen drowsiness and flesh deterioration as my journey was counterflowing
through the natural course of energy in the time continuum.
I turned on my light shield, wore my safety goggles and shut my eyes. This is going to
be a fun ride.
My eyes opened and I saw an unfamiliar territory. I know that laboratories are
very prominent in our era, but it was a lot different to the one I am seeing now. There
are wires everywhere; networking bulky computers and equipments that seemed so
medieval in my era. People are actually walking, and it's weird that they still seemed like
they lacked body maintenance. Perhaps it was because of the change in diet
everything was grown organically and manufactured using no oil, as there was none
left, and people technically ate the same things. Chemical engineering was highly
improved at around the year 2025, and it continued to evolve throughout the years. I
blinked a couple of times to adjust my vision, and we were welcomed in a highly
secured area the government is protecting.
Alternate dimensions were developed in the in the early 2100's. Ever since, the
government made an agreement with the government of the past. There were a few
conditions for the so called "time travelers" to follow. First, any person existing outside