How to say no
Quite the irony, actually.
He appears on that door, clueless of what has happened. He says, “Kamusta?” in Filipino which could mean different things when translated in English. “How are you?” “How is life?” “Are you okay?”—really depends on how you will use it. But generally he asks, “Kamusta?” so I simply answer, “Okay lang” (very “Pinoy”). But it could mean anything too. “I am fine,” “I am alright,” “I am good but not really”,—again, depends on how you will use it. He sits, fully aware of where he is seated. “Do not even dare,” I say to myself. The line between us being friends and us being more than that is still a blur even to this point. He must have heard my thoughts as he raises my well-rested head on his lap. Minutes felt like moments as I lay there. He brings out his Psychology homework and starts writing on his notebook—not minding the weight of my head (and heart) on his lap. On it went—me just trying my hardest to sleep and him minding his own business—when suddenly I feel a hand upon my shoulder. Reacting more than expected, I suddenly burst out and said, “What are you doing? I heard you have a girlfriend.” In reply he just laughs it off and says, “Hindi.” He has been in the Philippines for about a year now and he still does not know how to use his Filipino well. Surrendering, I say, “Mag-aral ka nga ulit ‘jan. Oh, ano yang nasa libro? ‘How to say no’? Haha! Dude, learn how to say no!” “Wag ka ma-kinig ‘jan.” he replies and returns to his work.
We stayed like that for minutes. In my head the story I will write later on is already being formulated. Funny how we could make moments already pass just by making up the stories in our heads even when we are still in that moment. “But that’s all we will ever have, tiny moments… nothing more,” a line that is already in my story to be. True enough though, that is all we will ever have—the contentment of being physically connected, regardless if our skins barely touch. Just,well, moments. I get up to leave and he does the same. “Wala ka bago?” he asks, on our way out. “Wala, madaming nagpaparamdam pero wala akong nagugustuhan.” I reply. “Pero, meron ka talagang girlfriend? Ahee.” “Wala—ikaw nalang?” he teases. Suddenly, that line from a Filipino movie popped inside my head: “Sana ako nalang. Sana ako nalang ulit.” The relevance of the line to my situation? I do not even know.
Learn how to say no. I remember what I read just moments ago so I say my goodbyes and he reaches to give me hug. I wonder what my hair smells like when he sniffed into it as we embraced. Goodbye. Paalam. Seeing him walk away I realize something—“no” might just be what is best for me right now. I know what I deserve. It is not an “Ikaw nalang” but “Ikaw lang.” Had he said it before we parted, I would probably have known where we really stand.
