Thursday, December 30, 2010

this is going to be a long one.

My friend and I stayed at the grandstand after our PE class. She lost her PSP. She asked our teacher about the theft and he said he will report it and added that the security in the grandstand was unreliable. He also said that we should secure our things before coming to the class.

But she was not the only one. A friend of mine, Qwerty, lost his wallet and cellular phone. He was obviously upset about it. He continued to curse the thief like he should be hit by a car or something like that. I was not upset about anything. I didn’t lose my things. I was actually some sort of happy because my bag is between my friend’s and Qwerty’s bags. It was kind of funny, actually.

So my friend and I were about to walk together to Kamia dorm first, where I would drop my friend off, and I need to go to NIGS library, where I would rest (it is air-conditioned, by the way).

But this time, Qwerty, with no money, asked if he could join us to walk. We said yes. While we were walking, they kept on asking me why I wasn’t robbed. They said it was unfair. I was laughing. Not at them but at the fact that my bag was between theirs yet I wasn’t robbed. Then there came the eureka moment. They asked, jokingly, if I robbed them. Then I told them the truth, the truth that I didn’t steal from them.

After dropping my friend off, Qwerty and I walked together. Silently. We were not really the type of friends that talked to each other. We were just not that close. We met when we were in high school, third year. We had fun together, but it was with the class. So, that time, walking together, was kind of awkward for us.

Then he said something. He accused me of stealing his wallet and phone. Then I just laughed at him because he lost his wallet and phone, while I didn’t. I told him maybe the robber thought that my bag was his because I brought a shoe bag, which was under his bag. Maybe the robber thought that our bags have the same owner. I also told him, “Besides, my phone was cheap. He might even give me one of the stolen phones he had.”

Then I asked what was in the wallet and phone, except for their monetary value. I remembered when I lost my phone; I was sad for a while but not long. There must be something in there that has more value than money.

Everything went silent. The only thing we heard was our footsteps. It was a long silence until he spoke. There was a letter inside the wallet. A letter from his special friend (we call it this way, because they were not official). He said that everything she said in that letter was precious to him. I walked silently, listened silently. He said that when he was sad, he would just read that letter and his heart would spring back to life. He would lie on his back, smiling. He would stare at the air, smiling. And it would last until someone would wake him back to reality.

He also told me about his phone. At first, he was just sad because he had no more music player to listen to. He complained what would happen to him if he had nothing to do, etc. Then he told me about the messages. The messages he cannot read again. He told he even saved a few when we were in high school. He also told me that it hurts him to delete some of the messages and that he had to choose the best messages from her when he was changing phones. He couldn’t read them anymore. He even thought of asking the girl to resend those messages to him. Then I asked him to who would she send the messages. He clearly didn’t have the phone. Then he told me I was annoying. He said he just had hope but I immediately shattered it.

His face was sad. His face showed a lot of longing. His usually smiling eyes showed gloom. His usual glowing smile turned upside down and emanated darkness. Our pace slowed down. He punched me. And he punched again. And again.

I never thought that he would say those things to me. When in class, he was usually found in the corner, with his friends. They don’t usually mingle with the rest of the class. But when the class was having fun, they would join too. This is the first time he actually showed vulnerability.

When we reached the gate near NIGS, I said that I would walk him to the other side, fearing he would go into suicide by hit and run. He said okay. When we reached the other side, I said goodbye and take care. As I turn my back on him, he called me. He said, “Salamat ah.” He smiled. I smiled. I started walking.

I was sad for him. I never knew how he felt. I could only imagine. And I knew that the pain was much greater than that.

Behind that smile was a heart that was aching. He knew he could never get the letter back. He could not read the messages again. He knew that the feeling while reading the letter and the messages couldn’t be revived. But I knew that there was a hint of happiness in that smile. He may not read those messages again, but he knew he had a friend who is always there and will help him go through it.

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