Allow me to share another one of my journal-based short stories. The story below is a peek into the private journals of a Mister and Mistress. Although it is but a glimpse, it reflects their secret hopes and hidden pains as well as the moral dilemma that constantly haunts their “relationship.”
The Flowers: A Mister and Mistress Story
February 13, 2001, 10:15 AM
The plane was about to take off. Part of me wanted to stay in that paradise called Boracay but I knew I had to go back. Today is my boyfriend’s birthday. Silly as it may sound, I have to be home for his birthday and that was, call it corny or sentimental, his birthday wish. **** and I are amazingly doing very well considering his hesitation to let me take that trip. I don’t know why but I particularly miss him so much the whole time I was on the trip, considering our relationship started with oceans apart. I knew **** would not send me flowers for Valentine's day. But HE is picking me up at the airport. I feel quite guilty meeting HIM. I am counting against hope that HE'd give me flowers. That could be the sign that I needed all this time. If indeed HE'll give me flowers, then I know what to do next.
When I got to the airport and saw HIM, he was empty-handed and my heart sank. I hope HE didn’t notice. All throughout our time together, I was hoping HE'd suddenly pull out a bunch of flowers out of nowhere to surprise me. But hours passed while we were together and no flowers. I cried my heart out after HE brought me home. As far as I can remember, I have always loved flowers. Whenever I’m sad or down, I’d buy myself a dozen roses to cheer me up - flowers that came as signs that I ask from God answered most of my major life decisions. I remember in high school asking God for a sign whether I would enter the convent or not. A white rose means God wants me to and a red means no. Surprisingly, for no occasion, I got flowers, a red one. And my friend who of all people I least expect to give me told me he really wanted white roses but he looked around three flower shops already and no white rose was in sight. So there I was, while he was explaining the whole story, crying over my red rose. And today is just that. I got no flowers today and I knew in my heart what God wanted me to do . . .
February 13, 2001, 10:30 AM
I was in the meeting but my mind was not. I was talking about the issues at hand with my colleagues but my mind was wondering. I can hardly keep my composure. But I'm sure my colleagues did not notice. I was deciding silently whether to get the flowers or not, for tomorrow is V-day. BUT, she sounded so bubbly on the phone these past few days about her plans with her beau, that deciding on a simple thing turned difficult. I know she likes flowers but what if it'll be the only flowers she gets on that special day and she falls for me as hard as I fell for her. I mean, me, I can take the sacrifice. I'm a guy and I'm supposed to be strong. But she, even if she does pretend to be strong, I know that deep inside she's a romantic and very fragile. I mean, I might love her so much, but as it stands now, I can't offer her a peaceful family life, which she and her family longs for. And she has her beau, who in the days to come, she'll finally meet, and hopefully if things turn out right could very well be her future hubby. What if the simple act of giving the flower, which I know means so much to her, confuses her. I guess, for now, I don't want that to happen. It's enough that I, alone, am confused about what to do with my life. What I want is to give her all the time and the chances to think straight about what she really wants in her life. Because I want her to be happy. Because I love her so much. That's why even if I know it means so much to her, even if I desperately want to give the flowers to her, I decided and I held back, and the flowers won't arrive on V-day. I looked at my clock, it’s 11 am. I have to go and meet her at the airport. . .but this doesn't mean that the flowers won’t ever come.
See you next Wednesday!