sometimes I wonder what this is

The band started playing this song, and though we were were not exactly talking¬†before its first note, that’s when we fell silent.

We were not speaking, but she was eyeing the waitress for a cigarette and I was squinting at the drunk East Asians. We were glancing at each other every now and then. A random smirk and an occasional squeezing of our held hands were not far-fetched.

We were together.

Then the first strum. Then the first scratch of the singer’s throat.

Then we were not.

I thought about you. Let’s not get into details on what about¬†you exactly, though when it comes to you, the devil is never in the details. He is larger than life, always that dark¬†silhouette that¬†hounds from¬†the corner of any room, that somber ink¬†spread by the palm of a troubled child across the big picture.

So I ripped my gaze away from the makeshift stage¬†and took a sip of my pretty drink. I asked her, who was still¬†transfixed by the old song, what she was thinking. She said she wasn’t thinking of anything, as usual. I took another sip and I knew, as I relished the salt on the¬†rim, that this was one of those nights I wouldn’t let go.

“Hindi ako naniniwala. Wala kang naaalala?”

“Mayroon.”

I scoffed. I asked who, emphasizing that of course it was a who.

She forced¬†her name out¬†while laughing¬†nervously. I¬†rolled my eyes. She drank from her bottle.¬†I asked her if she wasn’t going to ask me the same thing. She said no and pinned her eyes back on¬†the oblivious band. And that was that.

I continued listening to the even if even if‘s and somewhere in the next song, she probably squeezed my hand.

Sometimes I wonder what this is.

 

I’m learning to live without you now
But I miss you sometimes
The more I know, the less I understand
All the things I thought I knew, I’m learning again
I’ve been tryin’ to get down to the Heart of the Matter
But my will gets weak
And my thoughts seem to scatter
But I think it’s about forgiveness
Forgiveness
Even if, even if you don’t love me anymore