"Ayaw ko lang na makita ni eX na may kasama akong iba."
These words kept on ringing repeatedly on his head. He mustered all his will to stop himself from shedding a tear on his way home. Good thing that he was sitting on the passenger's seat of the FX. He could just blame the blast of wind coming from the air-conditioning vent (which directly hits his face) for his teary eyes. He also became a bit conscious of how he would say "para" as he knows that the sob in his voice would give away his state.
Arriving at his place after an hour of torment, he headed straight to the bathroom and let the cold water from the shower soothe him.
Thoughts ran into his vivid mind. Things he'd rather not think about at the moment. Things that would only make him feel worse.
After drying himself, he went to his bedroom and put on a movie on the DVD player but found himself staring blankly at the screen after ten minutes. So he just hopped into his bed and covered himself from head to foot with his comforter.
Half-expecting for a message, he kept on glancing at his mobile only to find that there's none. For several times he did this and for several times he thought of throwing his phone to the wall. It was a bad idea. Good thing he's still cognitive.
He found temporary refuge from two of his friends. Fleeting solace, but he'd take what he can get. At that moment, he'd rather talk with anyone but his friend.
Quarter to ten when he received a message. It was from him. And it says that he just got home and that he's sorry for what he said earlier - it was obviously an error in his choice of words.
It felt like his sorry came too late. And too empty. He decided not to reply back. He was still mad after all and he might say something that he might regret the morning after. He took the nearest pillow and hugged it like it was the last night on earth.
TO BE CONTINUED.
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