Monday, February 14, 2005
A December Date
He takes a deep breath and enters the crowded fine-dining restaurant; all eyes were on him as he entered. It was probably due to the attire he was wearing, denim pants, suede khaki shoes, a black dinner coat and a light olive colored polo –perfectly complementing his tan skin.
He stands there for a few seconds as the people divert their attention to continue on their conversations. He couldn’t deny the fact that he loved the attention and the approving look the people gave him.
He follows his companion towards the bar and cashier of the establishment, his friend’s clan runs the business. They conversed with the management and they asked him how he’d want it all to be set, his date will be arriving in an hour and a half, they let him choose a table and they said they’d prepare it for him as soon as the customers at that particular table left, which was pretty soon. The two friends left the establishment to find a florist; an hour later they went back dismayed not to find any open at that hour.
He reassures his companion that it’s alright. “What I have for her is more than enough.” he said, he then mentally notes the gist of a speech he wants to deliver to the woman who has been constantly a fount of inspiration for him these past 8 months.
During the course of the hour she sent him a SMS message informing that she’ll be having a chaperon because she didn’t know where the restaurant was, it was fine, he anticipated that and replied to her that it was alright.
The minutes dragged on, and he immersed himself to the conversation he was having with the management at the restaurant, his back was from the entrance and he was on the platform of the establishment, -where the bar was, he hears his cell phone ring, he turns around and at the midst of the people leaving the establishment, he sees her standing and beaming at him, she was wearing a white laced blouse with a 2/3 sleeve that ruffles at the end, a mini skirt that was checkered with the colors grey, black and white, she was wearing accoutrements of silver, her attire complemented every curve on her body and the waiters looked from her to him with an approving stare. And oh yeah, she was accompanied by her chaperon.
He eased down the stairs and accompanied her to the table he had the management prepare. They got their food from the buffet, sadly, it was all he could afford, his car was in the shop and the money he saved was used to fix it, and the food wasn’t at all that plenty, he didn’t anticipate that, apparently the establishment were closing in an hour, even though, he brushed aside his worries and told himself that spending time with her is all that is important.
As they sat down, he gave her present in a bag, the bag looked like a “gift paper bag” the one’s usually bought at National Bookstore, instead of it being paper though, it was plastic and reusable, he intended that, and the color was of blue and khaki and had a lovely earthy design. Her face lit up and she anxiously said she wanted to see what’s inside, and she did open the bag.
Inside, the bag was full of crumpled red Japanese paper, red is her favorite color, wrapped at the top of the sheet of Japanese paper was the cd he told her previously he was giving her, it was a soundtrack flash presentation, he used three songs, including the one he wrote for her, in the cd, when viewed at the pc; one of the songs is played per scene, coupled with a message for her and some pictures of her is presented or seen, a small dedication and a confession of how he feels towards her, the last song played was written by him for her, quaintly titled as her song. The cd was encased on a clear casing and had red stationery paper on its cover, with her name written boldly on it.
She was admiring the cd when he said to her to reach inside because there’s one more. She was pleasantly surprised and she pulled out another cd, this time it was an audio cd, -which too, was encased the same way as the flash cd, the three songs he used in the flash presentation was there and several hard to find jazz songs that suited his feelings for her, and a few mixes that his other friend made especially for this occasion. He enjoyed watching her admire his gifts and then, he said to reach in again.
Her eyes got a bit wider, surprise-surprise, and as she reached in for the third time in the bag, and from it, she found wrapped in red Japanese paper a pocket book, she reached in again to make sure there weren’t any in the bag, he anticipated that too. He grinned at her as she does this.
The uncovered pocket book’s cover was wrapped with clear plastic; the book, which was his favorite, was the sequel to his other favorite novel, which recently turned into a movie, and they watched that movie a few months ago. The name of the book he gave her was “The Wedding” by Nicholas Sparks.
He still has the tickets, and plans if ever they become a couple, had it framed and present it to her on their anniversary a few years into the future.
“Open the cover,” he said in almost a whisper, she turns the cover and sees a red stationery paper, the same size of the cover, glued to the back of it, on it is a small dedication he wrote for her: to someone who means a lot to me, enjoy reading my favorite book, was what it said. It was written with silver ink.
A tear trickles down from her eyes.
He ignores what just happened, he feared he might join her on that and he didn’t want to, he’d feel awkward and so, he hurriedly said to look at the bookmarker.
There were two laminated bookmarkers, he used the same red stationery paper and used a silver stationery paper as a frame for the red, at the back of one of the laminated bookmarkers were rose petals, a blessing happened when he laminated that particular bookmarker, an outline of a rose was made at the front of the bookmarker when he had it done. Written on the two bookmarkers was the poem he wrote for her a few months back. The poem was short but, the prime numbers of the stanzas of the poem except for the last one (which was a nine) and the first letter of the second words, if you’d follow all that, you’d notice her name being spelled. Of course he had those letters enlarged and capitalized so that when it was read it was visible to anyone. A poem is an intricate message and every word has its meaning, place and purpose.
He calmly said, “There’s more to the book,” and he continued after a pause, “Flip it.”
She flips the book and she whiffs an aroma of his perfume mingled with the scent of roses. He had rose petals, -white and red, dry on some of the pages of the book and after it was dried, sprayed his perfume on them. The rose petals were spread on the pages of the book. He intended that, so that when she reads the book, she’d be reminded of him.
He didn’t tell her that he wrote something at the last page of the story of the book; the message was the gist of what he thought off of the book and in a sense another confession of what he strongly feels for her.
After the unveiling of his gifts he rattled on what he felt for her all these months and how she truly means to him. He finally professed personally to her but all seemed meant not to be.
The evening went by with small talk, gratitude towards each other and warm smiles, he regretted one thing that night that he didn’t do though. He wanted to hug her as they bid good bye, but he didn’t, a fear of awkwardness could’ve been the reason? Or was it the fear of shedding tears to have finally said what he felt for her, her touch; would be catalyst for him to come to the brink of tears.
A few days later, his intuition tells him something was wrong, and true to his unfathomable talent, he was right. She has a boy friend; apparently he was too late in professing his feelings. He took his time and he didn’t make himself more of a presence in her life. Are these the real reasons to his demise? Or could it be that she wasn’t attracted to him in that way? Who knows? He’s gone now, millions of leagues away from her, pursuing a future he set for himself several years ago, time and fate can only tell if their paths will cross again and, if a spark will ignite and become an unconditional flame in their hearts, time and fate can only tell.
posted by vinz @ 1:55 PM
|
0 Comments:
