To Unravel the Knots of this Heart

Serotonin Syndrome (candle-lit dinner excerpt)

Musical notes floated towards their direction, a soothing tune reminiscent of the waves at sea. The performer, a lady in her teens, deftly manipulated the bow of her instrument, grating it against taut strings and sending forth gentle vibrations throughout the room. It still brought him no comfort, however. No, it made him shiver even more. 

To distract himself, he observed the water beads that formed as soon as humid air hit cold glass. He watched, completely absorbed in the gradual descent droplets embarked in until finally merging with the small pool forming at the bottom of the glass. They were completely lost, weren’t they? 

He let his eyes loosen their focus, the glass blurring in his sight. Swimming into view were a pair of obsidian eyes. They glistened in the darkness, with the occasional flicker from candle flame reflected on that black. Those eyes too were unfocused, completely absorbed in other things, and seemed so distant despite the few feet between them. 

He eventually straightened his posture to face his companion more suitably, although their gazes still did not quite meet. The other had too much concentration towards the window. He dared not say a word, but simply waited for that attention to shift his way. Seconds turned into minutes and moments lengthened to eternity. His hand started to creep across the table with the intent of uniting with that of his partner’s, but instead it awkwardly fell back and fiddled with the straw of his drink. 

Ice cubes clinked and tinkled every time they would hit the glass or each other, and for some reason his ears could pick up that insignificant sound. The violin music soon faded from his senses, followed by the background noise of the restaurant as every bit of his being centered on the one directly in front of him. And yet the other still paid him no heed, as if his very existence had been forgotten or left in the darkest depths of perception. This he noticed, and it was just then that he let out a despondent sigh.

When had they become like this?

Only a few days ago, their dinners were like a spring morning. They would converse with each other as if walking down a glade shaded by sycamore maples. Each word was a small step towards something simple and wondrous waiting to be uncovered. The freshness of the dew-kissed grass, the soft rays of the sun shining through the foliage, and the cool breeze that made the leaves rustle. The light atmosphere of such a scene could only be compared to the feelings that flow in his chest whenever they would touch — fingers secretly intertwining under tables as knowing glances relay unspoken messages of the love they found in each other when their hearts met. 

Lately however, everything is foggy like a cloudy day in midwinter. Words fall on him, exploding on impact just like cold drops of sleet. Their conversings, once so sweet, became arguments bitter as the blizzards that rage in the worst of those grey days. And in times of stillness, when neither of them would let out even the smallest of words, there was a harshness in the air that suggested something impending to explode. Silence is no longer peaceful when it is the calm before a grueling tempest of frost.

He could not take it anymore, that much he knew. Quelling all uncertain thoughts to the back of his mind, Sean motioned to reach for Tristan’s hand once more. But at that exact moment, Tristan abruptly stood from the table. The sudden motion made a glass near the edge of the table wobble dangerously, threatening to fall. And it would have tipped over to a shattering doom had Sean not wrapped his hand around it on time. 

Tentatively, Sean raised his gaze to the one standing and waited. For a statement, or even just a small inaudible mumble of parting, but it was only the air that brushed against his ears. No words, not even the slightest sound from those lips as Tristan began to step away. Sean could only watch that retreating back until it moved out of his line of sight.

He stared at the glass that he still clutched in his hand and wondered about the shards that would have scattered at the floor right now if he grabbed a split second too late. There would be no point to hold on to broken glass, but he still can’t help wondering.

Is it too late now?

Silence

I catch your eye and smile.

You are so beautiful in that flowy white dress, although it would be so much better without the veil. You glance at me for a moment, then direct your gaze along the isle. You regard him with that sparkle in your eye, and I am sure he has that same light in his.

I catch your eye and smile, but only with my lips.

I slipped past the usher before the priest opened his mouth. I solemnly wish I could do just that, but this is your special day. I stand behind you as you exchange vows. I stand in my rightful place as you reiterate to him what I swore to you so long ago.

I catch his eye and smile, but I feel myself quiver under his gaze.

I am not jealous, for I know you love me more than any man on this earth. I am not jealous, but I envy. For as much as the love is there, it is not the same. And I cannot give you everything, because I am not a man. 

I watch as you share your first kiss as husband and wife, then I smile. But the tears trailing down my cheeks are not entirely out of joy.

The Hundredth Post

I started this blog because of a story in my life.

I’m a homoromantic demisexual, or a lesbian that’s kinda asexual. Basically, it means I don’t feel sexual desire towards anyone unless I’m in love with that person.

And I’ve fallen in love with someone. Hard.

That in itself is simple enough. However, because of many factors that make up who I am, I have trouble coping with the simple fact that I love (in every sense of the word) my best friend. 

And what better way for a writer to deal with things than with writing?

So I began. With this blog, I cradle the labyrinth of my being. That way, I may figure out myself and unravel the knots of my heart. 

I hate sunny days.

I hate it when the brightness blinds me as soon as I open my door. I hate the heat beating on my head, sweat soaking my hair, and my clothes sticking to my skin. The worst is when every person I meet gives me a dazzling smile and says “What a good day it is!”

It was sunny when she left a kiss on my half-open mouth and a note taped to the fridge. “It’s over,” it read. I licked my lips. It tasted of last night’s sex and her stale love. I tossed the note in the rubbish bin without crumpling it. I peppered it with ashes from burnt mementos. Her first love letter. Trashy romance novels she always read. A set of clothes she left in my drawers. Pictures of us torn from the bedroom wall.

That night, I was a crumpled heap on the bed. Alone. Naked. I shredded the bed sheets with my fingernails as I reminisced. I shredded my insides too. Self-indulgence was one thing to keep my mind off things. I finished with a sigh as hot liquid dripped to the torn sheets.

“Rain, rain, wash away my pain. She won’t be back another day. Rain, please come my way.”

I lit a cigarette and cursed the blue sky. 

Imaginary Number

Today, I saw my girlfriend madly in love for the first time.

But she wasn’t looking at me.

***

When the lights are out and we’re both settled in bed, that’s the time we freely discuss our day. I think it’s a good habit we have, as long as we don’t get too carried away that we don’t get to sleep a wink.

“How was it?” she asked just as I settled into spooning her. We just came home from a party for three, where I finally got to meet her best friend. 

“She’s wonderful,” I supplied. She turned in my arms to face me. Even in the darkness, I could make out her I-know-that’s-not-all-and-you’re-going-to-tell-me-now look. After five years of knowing her, I still can’t believe how keen she is. I resigned to put my bothered thoughts in one sentence.

“She’s wonderful, and it’s no wonder you’re still in love with her.”

I felt her whole body freeze at that. She probably thought I wouldn’t notice. No, her wilted expression told me she wished I hadn’t noticed. 

“Are you jealous?” Her voice sounded so small, akin to a child asking forgiveness. I felt my heart melt at that. I couldn’t help it, I pulled her into a full embrace.

“Yes and no. It’s fine, so don’t look so crushed. I don’t mind being second-best.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but I cut it short with a quick kiss on her lips.

“Look, we both know it’s true. And I’m okay with it, okay?”

She searched my face for a while, for a reason to retreat into her shell perhaps. I guess she found none because she scooted closer to me.

“Thanks, love,” she mumbled against my chest.

When she first mentioned soul mates, I was skeptic. I’m the sort of person who thinks it’s cowardly to wait for the stars or fates to bring love instead of seeking it out on your own. Naturally, I thought she was pulling some sick destiny joke on me. 

But when I saw her and her best friend earlier, I knew what she meant. The air around them felt charged with electricity, but not the kind that hurts. Just a tingling sensation that ran through my body and warmed my heart. That’s when I knew for sure that they have something special I can never touch.

Well, they may be soul mates and I may be jealous; but she’s mine, so I’m all good. 

“Do I pass?” I asked. She chuckled in response.

“The only one who ever did.”

“Don’t tell me your ex broke it off because of this?”

“Hmm.” She looked at me thoughtfully, then kinda shrugged. “I guess she wanted to be the destined one or something like that.”

I raised an eyebrow at that, but I doubt she could see it in the dark. She was still staring at me, though, as if waiting for what I would say or do next. I smiled.

“Lucky me, then.”

“What’s the most important sound to you?”

As soon as she read the card, she flicked it towards the coffee table but it slid and fell off the other side.

We were playing Query in the living room after a day of chasing deadlines, pleasing clients, and running around doing errands. I said it’s a good way to relax and bond. She said I was just making excuses to keep her from the bed. 

She stood to pick the card up, neatly placing it over the other cards we finished. But instead of letting her sit back down beside me, I pulled her into a hug with my arms around her waist and an ear pressed against her breastbone.

“This.”

“My heartbeat?” She scoffed and pushed me away from her chest. I grinned at that.

“Well technically, it’s ‘the heartbeat of the person most important to me.’” I wore my most adorable puppy dog expression, but she didn’t have any of it. Next thing I knew, I was flat on the couch and she was straddling my hips.

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Of course!”

We both snickered at that, an inside joke if you will. After a while, our laughter was replaced with yawns. Time to sleep. She rolled off me and headed towards the bedroom. But just as she reached it, she paused.

“Not going to join me?” She turned her head just enough for her to give me a pointed look. I gave her a weak smile. 

“Tempting. But I think I’ll sleep here.”

She turned back to the door and pushed it open, but she just stayed there as if deliberating on something. Finally, she nodded with a conclusion.

“I’m okay with it, you know.”

My face burned at her words, though I was not quite sure which she was referring to— sleeping beside her or sleeping with her. I noticed she was waiting for my response, but I couldn’t decide on how I’d react.

After five minutes, she took my silence as it was and shut the door behind her. As I settled in the couch, I whispered the words she will not say to me.

“But I’m in love with you.”