A Sentiment of Voices

I hate to admit it, but indeed, I am born to hold her in my arms. It’s that unfathomable fire, a creature so impossible to tame, a destined feeling that runs in my blood; whatever it is, it clearly tells how and why it captivated my soul into her ethereal beauty. It’s the passion – a feeling so wild and intense – that burns within that made me into someone who cannot survive without her voice. It has been there since I first held her hand, and the way I felt after, and the way how her hand fits mine. I cannot really define how prophetic the magnitude was since my maiden moment of embracing her; it was very much beyond proportions. The epiphany was intense, yet serene in an unexplainable manner. Perhaps I have been exaggerating myself, or perhaps I could’ve stated it using the simplest of words, but I have known how exaggeration alone can explain the wildest things, and that such things cannot be described by words alone. It is worth more than that, or perhaps it is of no worth at all.

But our fateful meeting was one unexpected punch, or shall I say, something that came out of nowhere. It occurred in the most unlikely of places - one might even think as a place common to all, or even a living pandemonium. The day had long passed my memory, but in one way, I can still recall clearly the events that led me to love her uncontrollably.

Someone once said, "Loving two individuals the very same way as you love the other is possible." Someone asked him how.

Five years ago, my hunger for love and its mellifluous melody started to grow insatiable. It was a feeling that was once dormant but had turned to something that deviated within my young but mature heart. I’d been distracted in so many things because of this hunger - a hunger that seemed to last forever unless something would finally satisfy its desires. The unfortunate part was that neither no one nor nothing dared to. Time passed by as it grew immensely. It surpassed my emotional boundaries as well, turning to something I described as a sweet, fiery sensation. Yes. I admit, I have always wanted something new, something exciting, and perhaps this untitled entity that had been growing within me could be the answer. I wanted the way I felt in those days. But it wasn’t always easy to go with its flow. The disturbance it brought with itself made me restless and often irritable, and though these things were perhaps its side effects, in one unique way, it had changed my ever-lowly character. Nevertheless, I knew I somehow needed to partake something; the problem was that I didn’t know what it was.

Despite these things, I somehow managed to keep it to myself, and to the one I already pledged my loyalty to. Yes, I was with another the time I felt these emotions (“Ohhhh… Now I see the catch,” you tell yourself silently), and hiding the contradicting feelings I had wasn’t only a difficult thing, it turned out to also cause an unpleasant hassle every time I and my lover met. Perhaps, now you see the entire picture of the scenery, its setting, the situations involved or, if you’re that good in predicting things, the plot of the entire story. Believe me, it’s too cliché.

It was midsummer, and although school was out, my schedule still stood hectic because of our everyday meetings. I wasn’t obliged to be with her everyday, and even she, herself, didn’t want it that way. We were neither required nor forced to. But the fact that we, two, had a commitment to each other made us into two beings who were reliant on one’s presence. And yes, I do love her –did love her, and I knew she felt the same. It was a willing response that interchanged between the two of us. We were connected by a vow, by affinity, and in so many things I cannot describe. I didn’t want to end our relationship just because of my psychological deficiency, and doing so was literally suicide. I was dependent to her beauty and to her presence, and she needed me more. Knowing that I was in a feeble state, I told her that whatever happens, I would never abandon her; but perhaps the only reason why I uttered those words was because I wanted to establish a foundation in me for the sake of fidelity, and perhaps to keep myself away from any distraction or any sort of temptation to love another, yet I knew deep within that I was only deceiving myself. “It won’t be long before someone finds out you’re a vulnerable target,” my conscience whispered with a hoarse, deep voice.

I thought I wasn't prone to such things, I thought I could get over it easily, but it turns out, I was wrong...

I sat in our couch one late afternoon. Like any other day of the week, it was commonly full of my childish frolics and daily routines. I was at our residence with one of my older cousins who stayed once in a while to watch my little sister and her naughty brother (in case you’re wondering, I’m referring to myself) whenever my parents were out of town. And damn, boredom was in every corner; it was an amalgam of accompaniments of the ever-monotonous sounds of nature and the searing heat of the sun, and in no time, it turned the day from radiant to grey. “Kulang na lang lumutin tayo dito, Ate!” I told my elder company. Worse, the power had gone off suddenly. It was a deadly one-two-three punch of exhaustion, power failure and cacophony; you could just imagine the look of our faces in that instance.

I lied in my room, with so much time to spare - all wasted because of delirium. Running off with no options, I decided to leave the house and go somewhere else. Instantly, I hastily packed some food in my pocket and changed my clothes to suit the heat. After which, I was ready to set off. But just as I was about to leave, someone unconsciously caught my eye. It was a sudden, unnerving occurrence.

There, seating in our living room, was a stranger. But it was no ordinary stranger. She was undeniably voluptuous and beautiful, evident in both her appearance and her mystifying aura. The strands of her hair fell perfectly from her neck to her body, her figure was slender and flawless, and by the time I heard her voice said ‘hi’ tenderly, it immediately caught me, without any sort of delay. It sounded so angelic and soothing, yet complex in a way only the wisest can only understand. And in that moment, I somehow forgot that she was someone I do not know, in fact, I literally forgot everything. I was drawn to her without a cause. It seemed like I knew her and saw her long before. I bounced back from my reminiscence and turned to my cousin who was busy preparing our snacks.

“Who is she?” I asked trying to hide any clue of admiration in my voice. “Oh, a friend brought her here. She’ll be temporarily staying in our place ‘til he’s not around,” she answered.

“Who’s ‘he’?” I questioned puzzled,

“My friend! Ugh!”

“Ohh… I see…”

I and my cousin babbled for a while before going off in separate ways in our house. After a short pause, I changed my mind and decided to stay since the electricity had returned and for some other reasons as well. I looked back in the living room, she wasn’t there, “Maybe I’m a little sick,” I told myself. Looking outside the window, I saw people pacing towards the resort to escape the heat; I was too lazy to walk another step that time. I went inside my room and lied quietly in my bed, and, for some reason, fell asleep soundly. Deeply, I was still thinking of the stranger I saw earlier. “Will she be the reason for my downfall?”

Every event that had happened before led in the molding of my present character. I was neither prepared for it nor expected something would draw the line between who I am and who I was; and yet, I still couldn’t comprehend why the littlest of things can do so much interference, so much change. I was deeply in love with so many things; I had to settle for something and identify which are the things I want and the things I needed most. Despite my contemplations, it still leads and ends in two things: trust and loyalty.

The sun, in its erratic presence, stood low in the sky as the breeze brushed gently against the curtains of the windows of my bedroom. I was awakened by the creaking sound of doors as people started to prepare for the evening in our house. Half-asleep, I subconsciously thrust myself up and stretch some muscles to keep myself from going back to bed. What I hadn’t realized was that I had a visitor with me.

Beside the other bed, the stranger, whom I met earlier that day, lied in the cushion soundly. I was in a state of awe and wonder as I stared at her sharply but with respect. She looked at me without uttering a word, and without hesitation, I immediately sat next to her and began introducing myself. After all the words I’ve said, she still seemed to linger in silence, like she’s mute or something. I didn’t understand why. In disappointment, I murmured silently and quietly walked away from her presence, thinking she wasn't interested or perhaps she had no idea what was going on. But as I was about to stand up, she gravely looked at me, it was a cold response only brightened by the glimmer of her hair. I was confused, or somewhat puzzled, like she wanted me to stay. I slowly went nearer to her, and, without warning, she wildly pulled me closer and touched my hand. “Close your eyes,” she whispered, “What do you feel?” I closed my eyes; in disbelief, I saw and felt things I never felt before in my entire life, it was very much indescribable. I held her closer, touched her hand, and gently brushed her hair as my hand smoothly slid through her neck. And from then on, my whole life changed…

A newborn passion started its way into my soul. Like a furnace, it consumed me entirely; the irony was that, as it continued to burn and feed on my flesh, it made me feel more complete and confident. This other became my inspiration in everything, even in the things related to the one I first loved, where the love that was once eternal started to fade into oblivion. The stranger would not only be the cause of my downfall, but would also take me to a whole new world, as well, to a whole new me. But the truth was hard to face, for I was being torn between two beings I both love, two beings I madly need.

Time passed by as my infidelity played a fair game with me. My own self was divided between the two of them, and neither saw how drastic and imbecile the scenery was. The stranger knew of my situation, but she often would discard the topic every time I’d talk about it; it seems that she wasn’t ready to provide me any solution. But the other one had no idea what was going on. It proves that I had been standing long in perfidiousness and ambiguity. I had broken every vow I had for her, every promise I pledged, and the worse part was that she knew nothing about it. The only thing I could do was to balance both my emotions and time, since they were both special to me, and I couldn’t clearly decide that moment. Decisions were practically a useless matter in those instances. In truth, everything felt worthwhile, like nothing was wrong. But trying to hide the truth is like trying to mix oil with water, it was of no use, it was futile.

In this past occurrence, the clear problem I knew was that both of them, in reality’s realization, were never mine, and perhaps, will never be. They were often with others’ company, which had always made me jealous. It was a feeling of rage, uproar and melancholy every time I would see them with another or each time someone would touch their hands the very same way I would. But I knew I have no right to appear with the real things I felt, since I never once owned them even for a single day. Of course, I was aware that I, myself, was deceiving the two of them because of the distorted situation, but I kept on hoping that someday, all these would be solved. I kept hoping that someday, everything would turn out right, that I could finally stand with pride in my heart not because of my experiences, but because I’ve been able to unveil the truth. But how can I achieve such things if I, myself, am not willing to sacrifice? Pain crouched deeply within me that night.

It was my 13th birthday, and I had been waiting for that day to come. I knew something special would happen that day, even the sky told me the same thing. I stood there with a smile, knowing I have finally entered my youth, that I have finally finished the transition from being a child to a teen. Joy flowed freely in me in those sweet minutes as my parents embraced me, it was more like a sign of recognition. Friends came in to celebrate with the victories I had as a man, presents were everywhere, presents that were more than just material things. As I was enjoying myself it those instances, my dad told me to come with him to town to fetch an unexpected visitor. I was curious, but it seems that I knew what he is up to. He drove slowly but with deep assurance that I would be surprised, I only kept it to myself that I knew his thoughts. In a while, we were there, and though I was right with the assumption I made secretly in my mind, I wasn’t prepared for the real thing.

Yes, she, the stranger, stood there outside our automobile, grinning at me. I assisted her in the back seat of our car as we drove back to home. I looked at her in amazement. She was dressed in her finest, shimmering like a newly cut diamond, flawless in every angle, her hair flowed in perfection down her neck, and her stunning figure captured my eyes. It was wonderland, a glimpse of paradise; it was every man’s dream. But it didn’t end there. I nearly fell unconscious as she whispered the words I’ve been longing to hear since I first met her, “You showed me the love I deserved. From this day forth, you’re mine, and I’ll be forever yours…”

That day ended, though I wished it never would. She was the best gift, the perfect present I desired for; and without a doubt, my desire animated into something that exists in the fabric of reality. The words made me forget all the problems we had, all the misfortunes I encountered, and all the saddest moments I had since I was a child. It was a burst of the happiest feelings, as I woke up and emerge with her hand in mine, as I embraced her tenderly in my arms. I was happy not because she finally answered my call for her love or she learned to love me the way I love her, but it was deeper than that, something I couldn’t explain. I have seen that the fewest of things are more than enough, and with that, I laid with her with a smile painted in my face.

But it was far from over, and indeed not the usual ‘happy-ever-after’, for fate and reality had yet to strike for the last time.

I both expected for the best and for the worst. I was now in the verge of a critical decision, and I knew I cannot forever hide the truth from the one I loved first. She started to notice that I have been meeting with her rarely as weeks go by, sometimes, never in a week; she started to see that I was no longer visiting her that often the way I did before. And the most disturbing part was that, every time I would touch her hands and caressed it the way I always did before, it started to feel that something was different, something changed, something was definitely wrong. I knew she felt the same way. It was a feeling of sympathy, as strangeness roamed in an attempt to show I pity her for my frequent absence. I thought I would be able to tell the truth, but it was harder than I thought.

One night, I decided to visit her in her room. I crawled silently ‘round the terrace, I was alone then with no time to lose. The walls creaked loudly, and the wind blew with strife as I crept slowly in the midst of a dim, moonlighted hallway. The lights were out, it was seven in the evening, and darkness wrapped the place. As I went nearer to the door, I could hear the sound of weeping, the sound of a sadness. I knew it was her. Without dilly-dallying, I twisted the knob stealthily and peeped through the opening. My heart was torn asunder for no reason as I saw her lying in pain and desperation. Anguish seemed to dominate the ambience, and yes, it was unbearable. Seeing her that way, I made myself to unconsciously go nearer to her to show that in some way, I still did care. I embraced her and held her hand for the last time I would ever hold it that way, and from that moment, a tear fell from my eye. She cried silently all the more, but the very voice I heard since I first loved her still remains to be constantly unparalleled.

I knew deep within that that day would come the time I least expect it would. Yes, I can forever hide, but I cannot forever escape Truth’s vengeance. And there we were, in all the tears we both shed for the love that had completely faded because of a stranger, lying as we sang the last song of our hearts, the last song we had for each other. “Why haven’t you told me about this stranger? Why do you have to keep it hidden from me for all this time? I never thought you’d do this. I was wrong with you. Why? Am I not enough for you?” She exclaimed panting from tears. Despite the epiphany, I kept silent and sat without a word; I was thinking of so many things that I wasn’t able to comprehend what she had been saying. The only word that came out from my lips was ‘sorry’ and looked away, trying to escape the look of her face. She had so many questions, and I knew I was wise enough to understand them, and yet, I couldn’t give a single answer. I somehow had the thinking that I was forbidden to talk, and let her mock me for my insolence and untruthfulness. “You broke every promise you had for me,” she finally said, then silence followed after.

It was already late, and I was still there, still reflecting on all the things that came to past. I knew how wrong I was before, I knew I caused her so much pain, and I definitely understood why I was led to that very place by fate, itself. Many things had already happened, and I realized I could no longer change anything. The best thing I can do was there in front of me all along that night: atonement. With all the experiences we shared together and the love that once burned in the center of our bond, I went nearer and humbly knelt before her to ask for forgiveness. “…I’m sorry for all of these,” I uttered, “I know I did so many things against you making me unworthy of your word, but say your will, and I shall live with it. I loved you, but it’s really the other I need, and with all my heart, I can no longer take the feeling I had for her. I know it hurts you more than the way I feel, but examine me, and you’ll see that I greatly suffered for you in the past, and seeing you this way is so much unbearable. I hope you’ll understand that I can no longer go against the true will of my heart. And if it is a ‘farewell’ that you want, then so be it,” I paused for a while then concluded, “But please stay with me, I beg, even for a friend. Yes I needed her, and yes I love that stranger. But it was you…it was you who...”

She looked at me with those puffy eyes in a face I will forever cherish. The wind hovered over the windows of her room, cold as it was, as she stood silently from her place without a word. She wiped her tears as I stood there daunted with perplexity, still she didn’t say anything. Then she cast a look at me, and gently whispered, “Sing this last song with me.” We sang together like before, it brought memories of our first meeting, of the first words we said to each other. It saddened me knowing all these would end that night, and it had to for the sake of the truth. But the melodies we had will forever remain embedded in our hearts, and the memories will forever be graceful. We ended the song, a song I especially made for her. It was a moment of incomparable serenity, simple yet unexplainable.

An hour had passed since I saw her in pain, but then, all of a sudden, an awkward smile drew itself on her face. I was not quite sure whether I would smile at her, too, or show some sympathy or something; the emotions were mixed in a very complicated way. “It is enough,” I told myself as I stood up, released her hand, and grabbed the book where I wrote all the songs I had for her. But then, in the midst of the eeriness, she suddenly grabbed my wrist; I turned around and saw tears streaming down her face, but the weird part was that, she was smiling. “I don’t get,” I said; it was the last time I heard her voice that day, but what she said struck my soul indelibly that up to now I can still feel the striking power of her lips. “Thanks for everything. You showed me something no one can ever replace, and for that I’m happy, indeed. And whoever this stranger is, tell her my gratitude for letting you feel worthy of love. I hope she’ll love you the way I did. But I want you to know that I’m here, ready to sing another song for you…” I looked back and smiled, then in the faintest whisper, I heard her speak the very word that haunts me from that day forth, “…always...” I looked back, and she was gone asleep.

I returned home that night, bringing a bitter-sweet experience with me for the rest of my life. My parents invited me to dinner as soon as I entered the living room, I said I still wasn’t hungry since I ate some food before I left, then asked them where she was. They said she was in my room, “Kanina pa siya naghihintay ‘dun sayo!” My mom interjected hilariously. But indeed it was true. The stranger did wait long in my room; she asked me where I’d been as soon as she saw me. I told her everything that happened, she quickly understood and said she was very proud not only to me, but to her as well. After which, I told my parents about that night, and they, too, looked up to me finally in assurance that I finally learned and instilled the values of becoming a man. “I’m glad you finally decided and chose what your heart truly desires, my son. I’m so proud of you,” my dad uttered as they both hugged me. It was both the happiest and the saddest day of my childhood, in some way or another, I, in all my childish character, learned to be a man because of that experience, and of course, in an unknown process I cannot define. Yes, the feeling of telling the truth hurts; yet, it is one of the greatest feelings a man could ever feel. I slept that night not only with my new lover in my arms, but with pride and success in my heart as well.

Five years came to past since that night, and ‘til now, the love and passion I had for the stranger remains unchanged and withstood the test of time, proving my loyalty and fidelity to her… and of course, still ever-loyal to her. Before, people would say, “You cannot possibly serve two masters, Jasper,” and some would even ask perhaps in jealousy or with a motif to put me down or irritate me, “Bakit dalawa? Dapat isa lang. Mahirap kaya ang magmahal ng dalawa,” and even some would comment about it in awe and disbelief, “Cool. Maybe you can also teach me how to love two individuals, too!” or “How the hell did you do that? Hindi ka ba nagsisi?” Whatever the case was, I only answered them with silence, or sometimes, with a humble smile followed by a deathly grin. Yes, they were right - it’s hard to love two individuals, or using the common quote, ‘One cannot serve two masters’, since, technically, I did serve two masters. It was difficult, but it was possible, and it was probable in so many ways. Regret? I can say with confidence that I haven’t regretted a single moment, both happy and painful ones, I spent with either one of them, or any ‘mistake’ I have done against one of them in the past; for it wasn’t a mistake at all, but more like lessons to be learned and remembered. I cherished every single sentiment I had with the one I first loved, and left her with temporary pain but with perpetual joy. And to the stranger I’ll love ‘til the very second I will breathe my last breath, I vowed to forever serve her in loyalty as long as our lips can still sing the songs love entwined for us.

Time lapses by quickly, and often I would recall the past when I first learned to love using my heart when I was a child. The stranger has been with me all this time, although now the color of her complexion darkened a bit, still her unparalleled beauty still roams my dreams. Her hair, the very signature of her beauty, would always fall perfectly from her neck down to half her body, shining like diamonds from afar. Weird but every time I fiddle with her hair, she would sing a song so lovely to me, and up to this day, it still mystifies me why. Since then, I always love to brush my fingers through the strands of her hair, and often, I would pull out some unintentionally. She would fake a cry with pain even a toddler could withstand, and I would just smile at her, and kiss her in the cheeks, telling her, “Don’t worry, it would replace itself.” And how could I ever forget her voice, angelic as it is, though I’m used to it, it still gives me the same feeling of amazement and wonder every time she would poetically speak to me. She was lovely as a whole, and her soul and mine dwell as one, like we were connected in some manner. And yes, I hate to admit it, I am born to hold her in my arms, not only that, I’m destined as well to love her forever.

And yes, the past has been azure and picturesque as always. I, with the stranger with me when we would stroll around the campus where our residence resides, would often pass by her apartment, in its old age, as the walls creaked with the sound of insects and dripping water. At times, I would still walk to her and visit her in her room, and we would talk of the past and remember our songs as well as the songbook I specially dedicated for her. She was wonderful as ever, in her elaborate beauty, marked by the fitting chubbiness of her body, with the contrasts of black and white in her shadowed face. Her elegance and majesty was incomparable as well, she was no ordinary princess, like someone you can find in places. She was as rare as gemstones are. And those fingers that once was almost always in contact with mine, and her voice, so powerful yet heavenly in a way. A voice I was once addicted to, a voice that kept me singing for days when I was still a little kid, as I bragged about how beautiful she was to my parents. It was one of the most beautiful at the same time, moving feeling someone like me felt. Heaven, itself, dwells in us in the past as we sang the very first songs I learned together. It was simply memorable despite the anguish we once went through.

This very moment, the very time I wrote this sentence, the stranger lied in my lap, sleeping like an angel; and the other one visited the two of us in our sanctuary, sitting behind the wooden door of my bedroom and looking at me in delight and sheer salutation. I was not only happy for all of these, but thankful as well to the One who gave me the ability to love the two of them without making me look an infidel, and for the courage as well to move on with my life with the one I truly love forever with me, the one my heart longed unknowingly before, the one my heart needed when it felt an insatiable hunger for love's harmony, the one it really desires. Since then, my soul has been dwelling with the truth, and I hope it always will. Before I end my tale, I would like you to know that yes, I still love the two of them, although I love the stranger more than the other, not because they were both beautiful, but because they both showed me the essence and beauty of music.

Yes, I love the stranger with all my heart and in all that I am, but I cannot deny the fact that it was she who taught me how to love truly in the first place. With all the passion, with all the style, and with love’s emergence and revival in the midst of us, the three of us sang the first songs I first wrote, together in graceful chorus. It was a symphony of the most beautiful pieces I have composed both in the past and during the present; it was melodious in every possible definition. The song had ended, the music died down, and the notes gradually lost its accent then went to decrescendo. She left me and the stranger together alone, seeing how happy we were together; she bestowed her best wishes and a message of how thankful she was for everything I left in her memory. The love we had completely faded to the unknown, but our past memoirs will always be something I can freely tell to all of you. But now, I have finally committed myself to the stranger I crazily fell in love with, for her hand and mine will never part again.

So you see, my friend, loving two beings is indeed possible, perhaps in mysterious ways we cannot understand. And yes, I still do love these two princesses equally in one way or another, even until this very day. It is not a matter of whether you love the other more, or you love the first less, it’s a matter of which one you’d chose to be loyal with ‘til the end of time. Through the stranger, I showed that I can be someone I was not before, and unveiled to every one how strong and true my emotions are for her and only will be. And now I finally proved myself worthy of her love, and nurtured my endurance and passion. I may not be that good in showing her how special she is, or how much I loved her, the way others do, but one thing I’m sure of: I’m distinct, my style is unique, and no one can love her the way I do. I will never forget how to play and sing with her, the solitary nights I spent with her just to hold and touch her fingers; and most would call her piano, but for me, she's more than just an instrument, she's a living entity in my heart.

But I will never stop carressing the stranger I'm forever loyal to, a stranger with a thousand voices, mighty yet angelic in every possible way it resonates, like the sound of a choir of angels, in its multitude and majesty. From then on, I knew nothing can seperate us again, nothing can ever come between the unbreakable bond of our passion, of the love we built together. Her fire consumes me inside out continually since it ignited, and my hunger for her voice will never be satisfied. She gave me the salvation I longed before since I was a child, and now, I'm complete, not because of the absence of lies and deception that once wounded me, but because of her lasting presence.

Yes, I may break loose yet another strand of her hair... or sloppily brushed my hand down her neck like I always do, and yes, someday, death may come upon us...But until eternity exists, her voice will always be the sound, the melody love cannot survive without. She has always been there for me, whether for the better or for the worse, she was always there, ready to sing another song for me, and I will always be there for her, too, ready to sing with her in any key she desires. And since the day I met her, I have been calling her by her name, a name anyone knows, yet a name that brought serenity and wholeness in my life, a name my soul needs, something that has always been a part of my dreams...And whatever happens, I will always call her by her name, the alias I have always known...I love her, and I always will.

Though I have known her that long, she still remains to be the same stranger to me, in all her priceless beauty, in all her charm any man cannot resist, yet masked by the mystery she possessed, and the unexpected things she keeps on telling me. She'll never grow tired even if I needed her to sing a thousand songs I desire, and I'll never grow weary even if she wanted me to stay with her 'til the break of dawn. It is because of these things why my love for the stranger has never once faded, and my passion for her remains to be both immeasurable and uncontrollable.

Summer of 2002, I met her in my bedroom, soundly sleeping as I woke up beside her; and from that day forth, all things changed. But still, I wake up every morning just to see her lying beside me, though now, she's embracing the one who showed her the love she truly deserves. A love more than the love a man could ever give to a woman.

I love her... my inspiration, my singing duet, my source of passion... My all-consuming fire...my heart's very whisper...my spirit's very voice...and my ever-faithful friend...

My… Guitar…