Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
CHAPTER 5
"Dr. Jung, what's the condition of the patient in Room 637?"
"Maybe severe trauma of the accident had its ill effects on the body, but we clearly did not see this happening to his brain. There seems to be a form of paranoia forming unrealistic hallucinations from the post traumatic stress disorder that somehow he shut his mind off." Dr. Jung put down his hands, drumming at his table. His office was as akin to a library than a mental institution ward.
"So does that entail any brain hemorrhage or similar brain trauma? That causes his delusions?" I asked. Dr. Jung seems pleased. He should, i researched hard on his case that I almost gave up on looking for a saner option for psychiatric help. He was the best, the medical professors would attest to that.
"And any treatment would, therefore, be inimical to his mental health?"
"Maybe, or maybe not. We're just experimenting with him if he still won't accept anti-hallucinatory drugs or if he would remember the faculties related to memory can work for the present. It's like he sees his reality as true, but the only thing he sees as reality now are his memories lived in his past. And that is very peculiar, that his mind shut him off in a place where only the past exists. That is similar to Alzheimer's but not quite since Alzheimer's does not manifest in his young age."
I only sigh in exasperation. Everything is shitty now. I cannot figure out if this was something I could not change, that this is permanent.
I could only hope it is not. That we could heal his mind as I healed his heart.
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We shared our mutual disgust with each other, with each moment we looked across the table. We could only look towards something other than what is right before our eyes and look beyond - to every space imaginable to our senses. We tried to make sense of what is now only a fleeting memory to us and think that what we did was something beyond our normal thresholds. We can never go back to the past nor we could never let go of what exists now between us.
You begrudgingly lift your fork, waving it across the air nonchalantly, like a pseudo-war surrender sign. This is over. We both know it between our thoughts and between bites. That after this, there will be no us or there will be only the memory of what was us - this is our reality.
"Fuck, what are we doing?" I exhale, sighing at the situation.
"Something we should have done in the past."
"We could start over again, right? We could forget everything that happened and look towards the future?" I look, feigning a dissatisfaction that is voiced across as desperation.
"Fuck, haven't we already talked about this? There was no us. There wasn't even a 'something' we could talk about." Dropping the fork, I could only gaze towards the remains of half-eaten filet mignon and mashed potatoes.
There are no more words for us. Only the unwavering silence that we shared. The only thing left for us to do was to stand up and walk away, and let things stop happening. It was as if we were conspiring towards something melodramatic like a wild romance novelette grasping towards an anticlimactic ending that readers fake surprise at.
But we weren't finished yet. Every word said was something that pierced through.
"What we had was just this - something convenient for the both of us. I needed someone to fuck, you needed someone who would fake love and present something happy like a retarded lovesick fool."
"I know that but -"
"What? You knew it deep inside and you keep suppressing it like some diminuted fool. You know we were in this for the sex. You knew that there is only this line,"
Pressing the fork down on the filet mignon, the knife slowly carved through the meat, mercilessly.
"This line between fucking and being inanely hopeful." Bite. Gnaw. Swallow. Seeing bits and pieces of meat crawling down your neck, digesting.
"We had a one night stand that spanned several fuck dates after. Don't get things over your head and assume things all on your own."
"I'm not assuming anything."
"I'm not going to play around with somebody who can't even disassociate sex with love. We had this discussion already, right from the very start."
"If that's what you want, then fine. Fuck me all you want. But don't pretend that what we had was nothing more than fucking because it was. You know it and I know it."
Hastingly, I wiped my mouth with table napkins and stood.
"We could argue all night long. But at the end of the day, it's gonna be me who'll get your shit together after we fuck all night."
Turning back, I could see the disdain behind your eyes and glimpse that somehow my words struck home.
"If that's what you want fine."
"Fine. Fucking get off on your own then." I got up and threw the napkin down, leaving a few thousand bills and gathering my dignity somewhat intact.
I watched as your face tainted with the slightest bit of regret, somehow managing to keep it under wraps for the time being. You knew you couldn't let go of me. Just as I knew I couldn't get over being fucked by you.
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I left the restaurant only hearing nothing but the sounds of Manila purring with uncalled barker shouts and car honks and people talking. Hearing nothing but the city being a living thing capable of drowning you in. And I am lost in the noise, my mind hearing nothing but static and his words and mine interlaced with sarcasm.
And I did not mean any of it.
All I could remember is him looking at me with those cold eyes and telling me I was nothing in his life. That I am momentary in his timeline and can be erased or rediverted as easily as I came.
I was nothing but fodder to our desires, and we liked it. Too much. Too much that it hurt to be thinking of ourselves as anything other than that.
I was his desire personified.
Where did this shit start anyways? When I took his gleaming smiles for granted and did anything I wanted? When he took his eyes away from mine and let me feel his anger, one fuck at a time, right in front of my eyes?
Maybe. Maybe that was when things went way off.
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Her lips were so subtle. She kissed me on my ears, my cheeks, my eyes, my nose: she kissed me, like her lips were her fingers and as if she was blind. She was memorizing my every little piece of skin in her memory.
"Should we still be like this?" She asked, just as she passed my ears with her lips.
"Like what? You being so elusive and noncommittal, and me being laissez fare and shit?" I laughed. If only she would say yes to me.
"No, I mean if we should stay like this. Fully clothed. On your bed." So. She was needy.
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His teeth bared. His smile was strewn across his face like a irritating toothpaste commercial. Which is how he earns a profit, basically.
"So are we gonna take off everything and make ourselves warm?" He already slipped off his tee shirt, leaving me staring at him.
"Speechless? I think you have seen me the most out of everyone I've been with and you're still as clueless as ... " he grinned, as I kissed him mid sentence.
"Only way to shut you up, dear." I smiled.
"Oh you're in for a wonderful treat." He exclaimed.
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My mouth was in hers. We were dancing in a microcosm of tastes, emotion and libido. There is nothing left but to let her explore areas of her body in my hands.
"Deeper."
"Faster."
"You're liking this, aren't you?" I said, "you like being manipulated at?"
She groaned. She writhed at me. "Yes."
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He pushed me down. To go deeper. Down, falling in a spiral. Falling down slowly, a bit like Pisa. And his breath, drowning me in him, at him, on him. Letting me suffocate in his exhale. As he groans towards me, he smiles.
"Fuck yes."
Fuck, indeed. Yes, absolutely. Everything is groaning under my eyes. Closing in. Like darkness, i could only feel his pulse. Between me.
He puts hands, that were previously traveling on me, to my neck.
"I feel you beating."
"What's this got to do with now?" I moaned. He was making this harder.
"I wanna feel you alive. And die, suddenly. And come alive, we would be alive."
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She laughed. This was a game to us both. But who played better? It was a continual struggle to beat each other.
And I lost.
Losing to her. Claiming what I wanted with her. Losing myself into the sight of me in her eyes, her looking at me. Yes, we are happy like this.
I moaned.
All I could see is white.
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