Someday Soon, With You

Chapter 3

Archi opened the door of his apartment; he just got back from work. It’s almost eight in the evening; he reheated the side dishes he got from Aro’s mother and cooked rice. Every weekend Mrs. Dolores would go in his apartment to give him side dishes for a week. She knows he can’t cook anymore because of his work, and it’s also to cope up with grief. They both know it. It’s been three years and the submarines are still nowhere to be found. They’ve had many prayer meetings in their house, they’ve went in Mary Land to retrieve some of Aro’s things, which made Dolores very emotional.

While waiting for the rice to be cooked he cleans the house, wipes the furniture, and sweeps the floor. He do it as soon as he doesn’t have anything to do. Maybe so he doesn’t think more of how alone he feels or maybe so that when Aro comes back he wouldn’t find their home so dusty. So that when he comes home, he would be comfortable he wouldn’t want to go away again.

After cleaning, he took a bath and went to the kitchen. He took his phone and typed a message:

To: DumbAro

Don’t forget to eat your dinner, and finish it. I love you.

Message sent. Three years and he still texts messages to his number. He knows that Aro’s number has been already recycled and given to new owner, or owners. But it doesn’t matter to him he still texts it. This is like a defense mechanism to him, to help him get through the day. Every day. He’s hoping that someday, it will reach Aro. After several owners, there is one who doesn’t care about his text messages. For some time, he/she took time to tell him he got the wrong number but eventually stopped. He thought maybe he/she changed his/her number, but then it’s been ten months and from time to time he/she still replies that the message is wrong sent.

He is lying on his bed, when he started typing again:

To: DumbAro

Meeting you was the best thing that’s ever happened to me, spending my time with you, laughing with you and crying with you. You are my home, you just are. You laugh, you smile, you cry and frown and I’m home. I will do all my best to be a good person, so that I can meet you in our next life. So I will have the privilege to feel you again, to hear you call my name and to love you again. I will do it again and again, through all the lives we could ever live. I will love you always, because you have my heart, I found it in you and now, it’s lost with you. I love you tonight. And tomorrow, I will love you again. Goodnight.

Message sent. He started feeling sleepy, it was a long day. But then, it feels like a long day every day for him. How much more does he still have to wait before he can meet him again? All the pain he felt, and still feeling, makes him wish his heart is detachable. He wished that somehow, he can take his heart out, put it in a jar and wait for it to be all shiny and healed again when he takes it back in. His phone beeped, its Aro’s number.

Where are you? I’ll come to you

His heart skipped two beats, what’s this? As impossible as it may be, he wishes its Aro. He started typing his address.

The next morning, Saturday, he started his day as usual, laundry, cleaning the house and such. He finished everything almost after lunch.

At three in the afternoon, he heard knocks on his door. It must be Dolores, Aro’s mother, although, she didn’t have to knock because she has a spare key to his apartment. He opened the door but instead of an old woman, it is a blushing young lady he saw at the door.

“Hi”, she said.

He doesn’t know this person, “Hi, can I help you?”

. “Yes, about that, hmm, are you the owner of this number?” she showed him her phone with his contact number.

Ah, the new owner, he thought. “Yes”, he answered looking straight at her.

“Well, you see I was receiving messages from you, I tried to—”

“Those were not for you”, he said. He doesn’t know what to feel, somehow, he feels ashamed.

“I-I know, I just want you to know that to whomever your messages are for, she’s not getting it. Your messages lost its way to her, because”, she paused “I was the one receiving them. For ten months. Straight”.

He felt so confused, “You went here just for that?” She nodded. He sighed again, “Didn’t your parents taught you not to talk to strangers? I see you didn’t only talk to them you even went here at my house just for that.”

“Just for THAT? Well, it didn’t felt that way to me” she exclaimed.

He wanted to laugh, but his throat feels so dry. “Then how does it feel like? Does it feel pathetic?”

“No, not pathetic, it just felt sad, and I don’t know, tragic I guess”, her voice sounds so kind.

It’s so touching to know that this person took time to tell him personally that she was the one receiving the messages. “What do you want me to do now?”

“I don’t know; maybe invite me inside for a coffee?” she said.

He scratched his head, “uhm, yeah, I was talking about the messages but your right, do you want to go inside for a coffee.”

She giggled. “Yes” She was talking as they were walking inside the apartment, “by the way, I’m Miranda. It’s actually Victoria Miranda, but you can call me Miranda or Mira if you want”. He left her in the living room while he directly went to the kitchen to make coffee.

He came out in the kitchen holding two mugs, one each hand, “are you usually talkative?”

She was standing staring at their pictures, “No, I just don’t have anyone I can talk to. I think, maybe that’s why I have so much to talk about now”, she smiled. “You still didn’t tell me your name”

He feels warmth in the way she talks, and he feels that somehow, they are similar. “It’s Alpha”

“Sounds like a girl’s name”, she giggled.

He feels himself chuckling too. “I know, Its Alpha Archibald, actually. Or Archi, that’s what my friends from work call me”

“So, are you going to stop now? Sending the messages, I mean”, she asked.

He was walking towards her, “No” he won’t stop. That’s the only thing that helps him get through the day. No, he won’t.

“What the! How are you going to make it up to her if you would not send the messages directly to her?” She exclaimed. He doesn’t know why she’s very cooped up about it.

He was already a few steps away from her, “who said anything about ‘her’?”

She looked very confused.

He stepped closer to her looking at her eyes now enlarged, surprised obviously, and handed her the mug. “Your coffee”

She took the coffee but still didn’t speak. She really looked shocked.

“Is this your first time?” he asked.

“First time what?” she asked, he really wanted to laugh. This is like his first time having a real conversation with other people except Dolores and his mother.

“First time hearing about gay couples” he explained.

“No, I just thought you two were brothers, or cousins, or best friends. And besides, you two are extremely good looking I thought you would be like, you know, Casanovas. Especially him, he’s so gorgeous! What’s his name by the way?”

He can feel his face stretching, that’s how he knows he’s smiling. “He’s Aro, yeah he’s gorgeous. Well, we were best friends, since before we could even walk. We also had girlfriends in the past; we just ended up being together”

“Where is he now? Married someone else? Someone pretty or someone a little more handsome than you?” she said jokingly.

He smiled gently. Is this what a therapy feels like? It’s surprisingly calming “I hope he did, at least I know he’s happy, somewhere.” He paused and looked at Mira staring at him, waiting for him to continue. “Two of their submarines went underwater, and got lost. He was one of the passengers who were lost, the other submarine was found a year later with the passengers inside, all dead. That’s the Pisces V vessel, Aro was listed in the Pisces IV, still missing.” He gulped at the words he just said, and yet he doesn’t feel so broken saying it. Somehow, it felt like he was in a hot air balloon and he’s throwing all the rocks that weighing it down. He feels so at peace talking, so calming. Maybe he should have gone to a therapist like what Dolores has suggested to him after all.

“I don’t know what to say, I’m sorry? Look, I’ll give my number; you can text me whenever you need someone”

“But I have your number” he said smiling.

She stopped for a moment then spoke, “it is Aro’s number, you can text it any time. Maybe he can read it after all, and if ever you may need a friend, you want to talk to someone you know not him, then, you know you have someone to call.”

“Thank you, Mira. I appreciate it. Do you want anything? Biscuit or cake?” he asked, it’s a good thing there’s still the cake Dolores brought him once.

“Both?” she laughed.

Archi stood and went to kitchen, well now at least he knows it won’t be wasted. He took the chocolate cake and other biscuits in the kitchen. He started talking as soon as he got her in his sight, “You know what, it really bugs me, why did you come here? I mean, I could have been a cold-blooded killer, you would have been ditched somewhere by now. At least your murderer would have been a very handsome one”, he said so confidently. She laughed at his statement and shrugged. “No, really, why?”

“Maybe because I really don’t care. If I have been r***d and murdered the moment you opened your door, then that’s it for me. If I die today, I don’t care”, she said. Now it’s his turn to be speechless, he doesn’t know what to say, he just remained sitting to the sofa opposite to hers. “You see, I don’t have anyone. I know many people, we smiled, wave back at each other, talk from time to time, but that’s just it. We’re not exactly friends. I don’t have anyone I can talk to, for so long now, I don’t feel happy, I don’t feel sad or frustrated or anything. I just don’t feel anything, anymore. But then I got your messages, sometimes it’s so genuinely sweet I would just smile. Or most of the time, it is so painful. That’s why I love reading your messages, even if it’s not for me, because somehow, it made me feel. So, you see Archi, it’s not just you. We both are broken souls”

Maybe this is the reason he finds it calming to talk to her; it is, in its own way, relieving to know that someone out there would understand your pain, someone with the same wound as you, someone that would justify that not feeling anything is painful in itself.

“What about your parents”, he asked.

“Gone. Friends? None, I am alone since I was 18 years old. I have been strong and independent for about five years now.”

“I will drive you home, do you mind? You really do need someone you know, so you won’t end up into another stranger’s home.” They both laughed at his statements.

They still talked about many things as Archi drives her home, and it felt to him like they know each other for a long time.