Never Meant To Be

That following September, school began once more. I entered my third year in college expecting the worst—the hardest classes, the most laboratory time, etc. I was ready for it. I made sure that I had no other obligations. Later on, however, I found myself involved in writing the next culture night’s script with the cultural chairperson of the Pilipino student organization. So much for more free time.

When the school year began, the school held another “Block Party” on the first Friday. The student organizations and student resource centers would gather on the main street leading into the school and set up booths for students to browse while they wait and watch entertainment on the main stage. Having had some time before I needed to go home that day, I decided to visit the booth of the Pilipino organization.

I stayed at that booth for a while, even helping with a few outreach attempts towards the incoming freshmen. After an hour or two, I decided to leave to go home so that I could hang out with my old high school friends like a usual Friday.

On my way to my car, I dropped by the booth for the local hip-hop dance troupe to say hello to some friends, including Kyleen. I still had a soft spot for her, so I decided to go look for her. When I got to their booth, there she was, next to the table. She greeted me and we gave each other a friendly hug. Then, she said something to me that made me stop in my tracks.

She informed me that Jackie and Lysette were there. Kyleen had actually just told the two of them to look for me at the Pilipino student organization’s booth, where I had been a few moments before. All I could say was, “Really?”

She pointed me back towards the direction from where I came, and so I turned back to look for Jackie and Lysette. I was not exactly sure why I was even looking. I did promise Jackie in my letter that I was no longer going to attempt any contact with her. But, my legs were already carrying me back to the Pilipino organization’s booth.

Before I knew it, I was back, saying hello to more friends that I had not seen earlier. I took a quick glance around, and then quickly resolved to leave again. Jackie and Lysette were nowhere to be seen, so I just gave up the search that I did not even want to take part in.

I turned back towards Kyleen’s booth just to tell her that I had not seen Jackie or Lysette. Then I said goodbye accompanied by another hug.

Without hesitation, I walked to my car. I did not turn around. I did not look back. I had no reason to do so.

Later that night, after having gotten home from hanging out with my old friends, I uploaded the pictures that I had taken that day onto my internet photo web log. That photoblog entry is long gone now; I just erased it a few weeks ago to make room for future photos.

As I was deleting my old entries, I came across the one for that day and read what had originally been written by me. It said:

“Some interesting information was given to me today, and I waited for something. It did not happen.”

That pretty much sums up everything that ever happened in this story. I was always enticed by something, prompting me to wait. Whatever I had waited for, however, never arrived. I waited for so long for something that was never going to come.

I would not call it a waste of my time, though. I do not regret anything that I did, even if I did not initially like the outcomes. I like to think that how I turned out was better than what I used to be.

If I had a chance to do so, would I do it all over again? No. And, if I had to, I would not change a thing. My past makes me who I am today. I am quite satisfied with that.

Summer Meeting

I do not know exactly what it was that prompted me to do it, but after my second year of college, I contacted Jackie once more. I wrote her a letter. It was a long letter. Handwritten, it was four pages long. It reminds me of the song with the same lyrics: “I’m writing you a four page letter…”

What did I write? I no longer remember. I must have said some sorries in there, and also reminded her that I had forgiven her, but it was still difficult to forget a few things. I told her everything that I had wanted to say from the first day to the last. I told her how I felt about her after high school, and what it felt like once more to have contact with her just five to six months before that moment.

Maybe the reason I do not remember it all is because the words are no longer important to me. What mattered was that I made contact.

I also sent her a copy of the long poem that I had written because I felt like it described what I was feeling and thinking better than any other words that I could have said to her. Whether or not she was able to understand the Tagalog verses of it is a mystery to me.

The one thing that I distinctly remember telling her in that letter was that I wanted to see her once again, even if for just one day or one minute. In fact, I told her when and where I wanted to see her, in a neutral location free from memories. I also informed her that it was up to her whether she wanted to show up. My conditions were simple: she could meet me at the prescribed location at the prescribed time or she could just ignore it. If she did not show up, I promised her that I would no longer try to contact her in any way; I would forever step out of her life and that letter would be the last she ever heard from me.

I folded the pages together and sealed them in an envelope addressed to her house, assuming that she had not moved since graduating from high school. Knowing that she went to school to one of the nearby colleges, I felt it safe to assume as much.

After placing the stamp on it and slipping it into the mail slot, all I could do was wait. My plans were to meet her on a Wednesday afternoon the week after at a coffee house. After that was anybody’s guess.

One day later, I received a phone call. It was Jackie. She was calling my cell phone. Not knowing the number on the display, I picked it up, feeling that maybe it could have been her, which actually made me more reluctant to answer.

“Hello?”

She answered on the other end of the line and informed me that she had received my letter. Her tone was steady. Mine was nonchalant.

Then, she informed me that she was busy that coming Wednesday and asked if we could move the day. I was open to any suggestion as long as the conditions still held true. She asked if we could instead meet the day after—Thursday—so I obliged her request.

“Okay,” I said to her. “I’ll see you then.” And just as quickly as the call had come, the conversation ended.

Those were my very last words to her. I still felt some bitterness towards her, so I wanted to cut the call short. I preferred to talk to her in person rather than over the phone. After all, that was what I stated in my letter. I was going to stick to it, especially now that she had requested a change of days, herself.

I did not tell her that I would call her back, nor did I tell her that I would call her that following Thursday. What I said was all I said. “I’ll see you then.”

Again, I waited.

The week passed along well enough. I would go to school during that summer to tutor summer school students. A few regulars had begun frequenting the tutoring center to escape the heat and use me to their advantage. I did not mind. My pay was reasonable and the air conditioning was free. Some of the students I tutored were becoming more than just acquaintances, so my time was not wasted.

The Thursday came, and I went to the prescribed meeting location. I ordered a vanilla crème blended drink and sat down at a table near a window, facing one of the doors. I sipped my drink and opened my book. Then, I simply let the time pass, reading and waiting.

After one hour, I was still one of the only customers inside, still reading my borrowed book and sipping on my drink.

Two hours passed. Then three hours. The fourth hour came, and there was still no sign of Jackie. I did not understand why she would call to change the meeting date and not show up. But, on the other hand, I fully understood that if she no longer wanted to see me, she was never obliged to do so ever again.

I managed to get halfway through Dan Brown’s Da Vinci Code that day, eventually finishing it the day after because its story was just so exciting.

As the fourth hour closed, I closed my book and stood up. I threw my drink in the trash as I walked out of the coffeehouse and admired the color in the sky. Next-door was a fast food Italian restaurant that had a drive-thru. As I drove out of my space, I headed for the drive-thru window and then drove directly home.

That was that. I never called or wrote Jackie again. In return, she never called or wrote me either. I am still fulfilling my end of the prescribed conditions that I will no longer have anything to do with her life.

It felt like such a sad ending to such a long story and a major part of my teenage life. Stories never ended that way in movies and on television. There was always something more exciting. My story, however, merely ended like the predicted end of the universe: not with a bang, but a cold chill.

That September, I turned 20. I was no longer a teen. I also began my third year in college, soon to involve myself in the most daunting of the upper division physics classes required for my degree.

I just could not believe that it was finally over. And, just like after everything I finish, all I could do was sit back and wonder what was to come next.

The Next Verse

The end of the spring quarter was drawing near (2004), and so was my second year of college. It also meant that my second quarter of Tagalog class was ending, and our final presentations were coming up that June.

The quarter before, during winter, our Tagalog 10A class had to do group presentations in the form of skits using the Tagalog/Filipino that we had learned. This spring quarter, our Tagalog 10B class had to do the same, using the more complicated verbs that we learned. In addition, the Tagalog 10A class that was also being taught concurrently had to do their own skits/presentations during the final day.

To add to my final presentation, the professor personally asked me to do lyrical piece for the final day. My classmate was also asked to sing a song in Tagalog that day. We agreed, knowing that we were probably the most fluent in the class (which may have been a bit unfair to the curve).

I debated with myself on which piece I should do, because during the regular class, I had already submitted a few Tagalog pieces (rhythmic poetry) that I had written as part of our “laboratory” assignments. I decided to go with the only other piece I had up my sleeve, which was my story about my time with Jackie. (See “My Solace” 2007.03.12 and “Sunny Rain” 2007.03.19)

The problem I had, however, was that the second part of the piece was all in English, and I was in a Tagalog class. Quickly I worked on a translation/new piece that would go well with the first verse. Here is what came about:

Kinalimutan kita; dalawang taon nilampasan
Nakarating ang panahon na di na kita inaasahan
Pero biglang pinag-alala ng iyong kaibigan
Noong isang araw na di na kita pinag-iisipan
Sumulat ka ng liham; pinaliwanag mo sa akin
Kung bakit ka ganoon noon, at sa’kin ay inamin
Bumalik ang gunitang bulok at naintindihan ka
Pero ayaw ko naman itong matapos na masama
Kaya ngayon naman pinagbibigyan kita
Gusto ko lang kasing malaman kung mabuti ka pa
Alam ko naman kung saan ka nag-i-eskwela
Kailangan ko lang yata na ika’y aking makita
Ng aking mata, kahit ‘sang beses man lang
Para magpaalam at masabi ko ang
Nasa aking utak na ukol sa’yo
Kasi lahat nito’y talagang nakakagulo

Roughly translated, it reads:

I forgot you (intentionally); two years went past
The time came when I no longer longed for you
But suddenly your friend gives a reminder
The one day when I no longer thought of you
You wrote a letter; you explained to me
Why you were that way before, and you admitted to me
Rotten memories returned, and you were understood
But I don’t want this to end badly
That is why I am forgiving you now
I just want to know if you are still doing well
I already know where you go to school
I just think that I need to see you
With my eyes, even just one time
Just to say goodbye and to say what
Is on my mind about you
Because all of this is really confusing

This is where the title of this whole thing actually comes from, “Nakakagulo.” The whole piece put together, the first verse, the English parts, and this part, are collectively entitled, “Talagang Nakakagulo,” which means really confusing, when used in that context.

It is what I honestly felt for her at the time, and I did not know that all of it would come out that way and in those words. It was a very short summary of what had happened since I last spoke with her during high school: I forgot about her, her friend reminds me of her, she writes me to explain what she did, and then old memories return. I went on to describe the fact that I did not really want things to end the way they already had—with some sour emails from me to her. All I really wanted was to see her again, say goodbye if need be, and just talk, because it really was confusing.

The confusion was originally between Adrienne and Jackie. Afterwards, however, the confusion was because I did not know if Jackie really liked me or not. Towards the end, I was simply confused about what to do with her, because I finally knew her reasons, but there was no way to take anything back. It really just sums everything up until that point.

I ended up performing the Tagalog portions of “Talagang Nakakagulo” in front of both Tagalog classes on the day of the final presentations, commenting that for the people that cannot understand, it was okay, because it just kept me safe (from them knowing about my past). The most interesting thing to me was that Kyleen was in the room (part of the Tagalog 10A class), while I was performing the piece. I knew that she probably did not understand a single word I said, and if she did, she probably did not know that the friend I was referring to was her.

In a way, I wanted Kyleen to know what was going on, so that she could laugh along with me at the irony, and at the same time, so that she could maybe help me. On the other hand, I did not want her to know because it would have complicated things between us. From how she spoke to me, and how nonchalant she was about talking to me about Jackie’s whereabouts, I knew that Jackie had probably not told her anything about me. I suspected that even at that time, Jackie had probably not told a soul about me.

I respect her decisions about that. It was too weird of a story to share with anyone. I doubt that she had even told Charmane or Lysette about me; it was even more unlikely that she told her older sister or mother. She was the one who wanted them to think that the two of us had met through a friend, rather than AOL. Furthermore, I doubt that I even played a big enough role in her life to mention me to anyone. That thought kind of makes me a bit sad, but it is her business, not mine.

I do appreciate her efforts to reconcile things with me in the first place earlier that December, no matter how difficult I may have been to communicate with. That gesture meant that I at least was a big enough part of her story that I warranted an explanation, even if it was only in the form of an email. That is probably the thing that I respect about her most—her effort to reconcile matters with me, under her own volition.

In the past, it was always me who had to provoke a conversation out of her; I was the one who put in the effort to talk and communicate. That time around, however, she was the one who struck first. I never thanked her for doing that, although I did thank her for explaining things to me.

She changed my life, and my perspectives on life, just by being a part of it. I guess that is the most I can ask out of her. I am glad that her experience with me also prompted her to change for the better (so she says).

After further thinking, I resolved to attempt a final contact with her that summer, so that I could finally say my “goodbye” to her, and tie up any loose ends. That was the only thing left for me to do, I thought, so that was exactly what I did, or at least tried to do.

Then And Now [Part 2]

The night of the induction banquet that late May 2004 (around Memorial Day weekend), I arrived with my date, Francine, with our matching brown and pink attire. It was no doubt that she was one of the most beautiful underclass(wo)men there. Her choice of outfit also made me the only guy that night to sport a fully pink dress shirt, which I was not at all embarrassed to wear because of the person who had been on my arm—after all, I had to get a shirt that matched the brown and pink tie.

My friend John (not his real name) arrived in full banquet attire with Kyleen, sporting a baby blue/turquoise scheme. I was not at all jealous of them, because I already had a wonderful date of my own, but if anyone had been paying attention, I did steal glances towards Kyleen whenever I could. I still had some attraction to her, and it was not only because of her looks.

We all ate the buffet-served food, and then inducted the new board members. I passed the candle to the next Academic Chairperson, signifying the passing of the torch. Afterwards, we danced the night away, taking some pictures in between. It certainly was the prom that I never attended in high school, because this time around I had a date with me.

After dancing with Francine for a while, we took a rest. It was a little obvious that someone else had wanted to ask her out before I did; I was just the one who did it first. In fact, I knew that there were at least three other guys that wanted to ask Francine before me. One of them, however, was able to steal her away from me for most of the night—they were closer friends with each other, and I knew I was partly in the way, so I let them have their time.

In the meantime, I stole someone else’s date away—that someone being my friend John and the date being Kyleen. It seemed that he was mingling with the older crowd, knowing that he was about to graduate soon, so he took his last moments to heart. In a way, then, everything worked out just fine: my date got to hang out with her close friend who had wanted to go with her in the first place, and I got to hang out with Kyleen, who I originally wanted take to the banquet.

We danced for a long time thereafter, only taking a one break after a long stint on the dance floor. It was just how I wanted it. She was a great dancer, of course, having been part of the hip-hop dance troupe, and it made it even more fun to be around her at the time. Really, she was just a very nice person overall (some people may even say that she is too nice). All of her wonderful characteristics just made being around her even better.

One of the most interesting things that I realized as an afterthought was that four years prior (April 2000), the scene was very similar, except that I was dancing with Jackie—one of Kyleen’s best friends in high school. After having realized that, I just had to laugh to myself. During my sophomore year of high school, I found myself dancing at a formal with the very attractive Jackie, and then four years later, during my sophomore year of college, I was dancing with Jackie’s very attractive friend, Kyleen. I almost felt guilty about it. (Notice the keyword there is “almost”.)

I knew that I still liked Jackie somewhere deep down inside. As my friend would put it nowadays: I still had a soft spot for her. But, spending time with someone like Kyleen seemed to cure the pain. I knew there was no way that I would ever end up with Kyleen, as in a relationship, but it was still nice to pretend (to myself) just for one night.

These days, I still find it funny when I remember that night, and the situation I found myself in. It was a very funny coincidence that those events coincided with each other four years apart. What made that night even better, though, was that there was no mention of Jackie whatsoever, like there had always been between myself and Kyleen. It was almost as if the two nights were completely unrelated, but destiny just has a funny way of working things out like that.

In the end, I took my date home and my friend John did the same for his. All I had were simply memories and few pictures.

I have to admit, however, that afterwards (not immediately, but eventually), I thought about Jackie again. I still did not know what to do with her, or if there was even anything more to do at all. I was top-toeing around the idea of contacting her once more to make amends, and maybe even start over, feeling that the last words that I said to her may have been a bit too harsh. I was definitely regretting a few things then.

Then And Now [Part 1]

The winter quarter passed, somewhat all too slowly on the personal portion of my life, and all too quickly on the academic side. It was 2004, and there were two years left before I graduated.

I decided to forget about Jackie from that point on, knowing that there was nothing really left for me to say to her. I may have just been lying to myself, though, because I knew that I wanted to see her still, at least to just see how she was doing, or maybe to just give a proper goodbye. I did not really know what I wanted. The hopelessly romantic side of me wished that fate would give me another twist so that I can just start over again. Lo and behold, a few months later, fate came answering, but the twist was not what I thought it would be.

Towards the beginning of the spring quarter of my second year in college, I had already started hanging out more with the local guys. I had made new friends and acquaintances because of the cabinet position I held with the local Pilipino student organization. It was really a different experience from high school.

Along with some of the soon-to-graduate seniors and a fellow second-year, we formed this so-called “observation deck,” which mostly was a close equivalent to what girls call “girl talk.” In plain terms, it was so that the guys could speak gossip and talk behind the backs of the girls (in the club). Its basis was really questionable to me, but what we discussed opened my eyes. There were things that I did not know about the other members that painted them in a whole new light.

Anyway, during one of our sessions out at the second local Starbucks (there were two within the same plaza, one block apart), someone got to talking about the upcoming banquet. It was an annual banquet to induct newly elected cabinet officers for the club—something I attended the year before (May 2003). This year, as it apparently happened every year, the guys started talking about whom they would be going with.

In short, it was our college equivalent to a prom/formal. I had asked someone the year before, but failed to acquire a date. I went alone, and it was an okay experience. Because I had gained new ties within the club and knew more people my second-year, I was more than willing to try again. The discussion amongst the men boiled down to whom would be the perfect date. (Come to think of it, this may have happened at someone’s house rather than at the Starbucks.)

Everyone started spitting out the names of the most beautiful active women in the club, including a few that I had been “eyeing.” When it became my turn to give a suggestion (and a hint to which girl I would ask), I simply told the truth and said, “Kyleen.”

One of our older friends quickly reacted and ascertained my contribution to the discussion. He admitted that he had overlooked her because she was not as active as the other girls in the club, but she would definitely have been his first choice. Verbally, though, he “let me have” the opportunity to ask her first.

That May 2004, we collaborated with Kyleen’s hip-hop dance troupe and another club to throw a type of sports and dance competition weekend. It was the fourth of its kind. It was the same event where I saw Kyleen perform the year before, catching my attention. For the duties, I was assigned to make the programs that were to be handed out the night of the dance competition, along with a veteran member of our organization. Because of that position, I had very little contact with the rest of the planning committee, and very little contact with Kyleen.

The programs were made, better than the years past they said, and we had our sports/dance weekend. That weekend, we even held a mini competition at the lobby area (of the recreational center) that was fashioned after “Fear Factor.” We had a Red Bull container filled with ice and we were to see who could hold their fist in it the longest. Kyleen actually had the record for the “first round” of trials/qualifications. I believe she sat there for over an hour with her hand in the ice water. (Because I was part of the programs committee, I had a lot of time on my hands to do nothing, with everyone else having been assigned to keep scores at the football and basketball games.)

Kyleen had to go, holding the record. She was unable to “compete” during the second/final round. I was actually looking forward to it in hopes that I would get to compete with her. Long story kept to a minimum, I got into the final round, along with two handfuls of people. We had to keep our hands in the ice, while standing in the middle of the lobby. Then we were given tasks: stand on one leg, carry a can of soda in the other hand, drink and open the soda using that one hand, etc. In the end, I came out the winner. For it, I won $14 and a free event t-shirt (the shirt that everyone used to thaw their hands off).

During the night of the dance competition (Saturday), I waited to make my move to ask Kyleen to the banquet. Before I could do so, my older friend came to me (the one who had wanted to ask her first), and he told me that he already asked her a few minutes beforehand. He could not resist, he said, because the subject came up. I forgave him and congratulated him on being able to have her agree. In turn, I went to the girl who had been second on my list. I asked her and she said yes.

I was a little bummed that Kyleen was not going to be my date for the banquet. And, maybe also a little relieved because it may have been a bit weird with the two of us sharing a mutual “friend” in Jackie.