I gave myself a wink as I looked at the mirror while
combing my black, short-trimmed hair. I was getting ready for my date with Elise.
I made sure I look good with my plane pink long sleeves tucked in my black,
leather-belted pants with a pair of shiny, black, pointed shoes since I'd be
going with her who was very fine and fair. We'd been together for four years
now and we still were working exquisitely. I looked at my watch and it's almost
7 o'clock in the evening. I quickly went in my silver grey Ranger and drove to Delizioso,
an Italian restaurant where we always dine out, where she was waiting. I called
her to check if she's alright.
"I'm sorry I'll be late again. Are you okay right
there?"
"its alright and I'm okay".
"just wait for me a little bit".
"okay. Just take care. I'll be waiting for you. I
love you".
"I love you more".
I hanged up the phone while waiting for the green light on
the intersection. As I shifted to first gear, a cargo truck on the other side
crossed in red light with extreme speed. I couldn't maneuver and didn't have
any way to evade our collision.
It was Sunday last year when we had our third anniversary
same place, same time. Again, she was there waiting, mad. She still looked
gorgeous, as ever, when I saw her at the glass window sitting on our fave part
of the resto, in the corner just below the warm led light, while I passed with
a bouquet of pink, scented roses. She was so angry with me that our
supposed-to-be-merry evening turned out to be a sad, UFC championship night.
She didn't communicate with me for weeks. I guess it's always part of a
relationship-----all day quarrel. It's never a big deal for us anyway. We also
thought that an easy relationship, with no ups and downs, is boring. But I
don't want her to get mad at me again. I don't want to lose contact with her
ever.
I heard a monotonic sound. Static. And it was dark. Then I
saw a closed door which I knew that beyond it is a lighted room because the
rays could be seen from the sides. As I opened it, the light blinded me for a
moment and I found a huge white room. Boundless, I could say. And a man whose
body was so bright I couldn't stare and see his face.
"where am I? Who are you? Am I dead?" I asked
the man.
"YES, YOUR BODY IS. BUT YOUR SOUL IS NOT", he
answered with his very soothing, deep, loud voice. I remembered what happened
and connected all the dots. It was easy for me to understand what the man was
saying but I couldn't accept it because I knew that Elise was waiting for me at
the restaurant, mad and hungry.
"Is this heaven or hell?"
"NEITHER. THIS IS THE PLACE OF THE UNREST; FOR PEOPLE
WHO WANT TO GO BACK AND I KNOW YOU DO".
"Is there a way? Can I?
"YES. BUT GOING BACK COSTS SOMETHING AND TAKES A LOT
OF COURAGE TO FACE EVERYTHING WHAT YOU HAVE LEFT."
I was puzzled but I didn't care at all ---- the risks,
everything. All I care about is to be with her again. The man asked me to close
my eyes whenever I was ready. As I opened them, I found myself alone in a small
room full of scattered cans of paint and canvases, and several bottles of beer
with sweat all over me. The room was hot. I heard the screeching of tires, loud
horns, and I saw buildings, busy people on the street, as I looked outside the
seemed-to-be abandoned apartment. I was in the city which was kilometers away
from Elise's place. I went to the dirty bathroom to clean my self up. I saw a
tall man with broad shoulders, detailed chest and abs, long, curly hair,
unshaven beard, and a dirty pair of pants, when I looked at the mirror. I was
stunned. I couldn't believe it. The man behind the mirror was not me,
physically.
"how can I be able to tell Elise that this is
me?" I mumbled to myself perplexed on how to introduce this dirty, poor
painter to the woman of my life. This man is not me, totally. I panicked and
rushed to her place. The place had changed a bit. The mango tree beside her
house is no longer there but a half basketball court. Hesitatingly, I pushed
the doorbell. A not familiar face went out of the door.
"yes? What can I do for you mister?"
"Is Elise here?"
"Elise?"
"yes. Elise Montenegro".
"ahhh. You mean the previous owner of this house? I
don't know where she is but I've heard she migrated to Canada with her family
last year", the woman replied. I was confused even more. I thought it was
just yesterday. "thank you. Sorry but I have this short memory loss, What
date is it now?" I asked the woman with that embarrassing question.
"Today is October 26, 2015, Monday", she answered with a sarcastic
tone as she smiled with ridicule written all over her face. I was dazed of what
I had found out. It was already three years ago since that incident. I went
back to the apartment to think of ways to contact her. I cried helplessly. But
instead, I kept myself up thinking that she must have waited for me ---- as
what her last words told me. She always does.
"this is my shot. I have to use the second chance God
has given to me".
The man was a very good painter but his assets were near
to none. I just needed to raise the bar for this man. He got looks and immense
talent in painting. I just needed to use it.
It had been two years since then. I had climbed my way to
one of the most respected modern painters of my generation. I succeeded and now
all that's left is to accept the invitation to have a dinner with her. She now
owns an advertising company based in Canada and she wanted me to sign up with
her offer to publish my works in her magazine. She wanted to meet me because of
business while I saw it as an opportunity to tell her the truth. I picked
Delizioso, in our fave spot, at 7 o'clock, and ordered our fave food, to let
her give an impression of my true identity. She seemed to be in a deep thought
as she played the white spaghetti with her fork.
"are you okay?"
"yes. It's just so nostalgic. Anyway...". She
changed the topic and proceeded to the business offers. My attention was not in
the proposals but rather to her lips which I long to kiss. She gave me the
contract with a pen on it.
"you may sign it now, Mr. Rodriguez. You really are a
great break for our company and you will need us too".
I smiled thinking of how beautiful, serious, witty, and
successful she'd become; and how she still amazes me even for not seeing her
for five long years.
"you need my sign and I'll consider that a
favor".
"okay. I'm getting it. What do you need?"
"I'll sign if you'll look at my almost-done, latest
painting. Maybe you could criticize it to be part of your magazine. It's in my
house".
"I love your every work, Mr. Rodriguez. I guess there
is no need -----"
"----- I refuse". I insisted as I crumpled the
contract in front of her and looked her in the eyes, with a very calm voice.
"come in". She slowly opened the door and
entered. I could see her eyes widen with her jaw slightly dropped as she saw me
painting, topless. I served her a cup of tea and placed ourselves on the table.
"may I see it?"
She saw a restaurant which she recognized to be Delizioso
and a woman which was leaning against the glass window, waiting. She was
wearing a beautiful pink dress and a pair of glittering pearl earrings.
"the place, the gesture, the dress, everything...it's
me. Impossible". Her lips trembled as she spoke with an amount of tears in
her eyes ready to drop. It's clear that she was bewildered, totally confused
and couldn't believe everything. I thought this would be the right time to tell
her the truth.
"El, its me. Richard".
She sat on the chair near the canvass thinking deeply with
her tears continuously flowing. "its impossible. How could you know this?
Are you stalking me? How could --------". I kissed her on the lips.
Electrons on our body. I can feel them rejoicing. It's all chemistry and it's
all coming back. It felt like the first time I kissed her. She kissed back. I
knew she felt it too. I knew she believed me now. The doubts were just blown
away as the wind swept the entire room. I couldn't explain the feeling I felt
or even paint it on the canvass. It's just so out of this world which could
only be understood by two souls and a heart we both shared.
"you've always been waiting for me. And now I'm here.
We can start all over again. Forget Emanuel Rodriguez. It's me, Richard. The
man who loves you with no boundaries".
"I've waited for you. Y-y-o-ou d-died. H-he-he
ha-hap-happened." She sobbed so hard she hardly caught her breath.
"he? Who's he?
"rich, I'm already married. It's been five long
years. Do you know how it feels to not being with you? I've died everyday for
four years, Richard. What do you want me to do? You can't expect me to wait
forever for nothing. You died". She wept. My heart was like being soaked with
acid, warm and numb. The torment of her words was excruciating my entire body,
knees trembled, hands were shivering. I don't want to move. I just want to
instantly stop breathing as I can feel my heart beat faster. The wind blew hard
again that made the canvass fell to the ground. The sky suddenly cried with me.
I regretted a lot of things I didn't know where to start. If I just had gone
early, I must have not been in an accident. If I just had accepted my death,
no, if I just had contacted her earlier. I'd wasted my chance, the only chance
I'd got.
"do you still love me?"
"I loved you. I always do. He loves me and I've moved
on. I'm married and it's not a contract I can just crumple".
Yes. She is absolutely right. Everything is clear to me
now.
