orsino and violaas promised, rai i hope you like it. this is not another mother, daughter, story. even though the first part is kind of family-ish (:
i took the keys of my new dorm room off the dashboard, and tossed them, up and down, up and down.
"honey, please don't look so tortured."
i shot my mother a look.
my mother always has good intentions, but that's as far as she usually got.
"it's only college. four years will go by fast, just like that." she said, snapping her fingers.
but i knew the reality of time. it was something that had taken me, a while to figure out. some people needed forever, but i only needed a death. the reality of time, is that, it never goes by fast, unlike the snap of two fingers, time never moves fast.
so, like so many other times, i left mother with four words, which i knew, would keep on lingering, in both her thoughts and mine, forever,
"no mother. it won't"
and i climbed out of the car, and closed the door with my hip, not even bothering, or thinking of looking back.
***
it hasn't always been like this. i remembered, although vaguely, a time when mother and i were one. we were like a vase, held together, by father, the ever present glue of this family. he was like the cement, holding us together, the rubber, keeping us tight at arms reach, and amidst all that, the heart that kept us loving. father turned our rain into sunshine, and when he left, he took all the sunshine away with him, leaving me and mother with nothing but rain.
the death took more than his sunshine. it was like he had taken a piece of me, a big one, with him and sometimes at night, in the most fleeting of instances, as i lay down under my duvet with my eyes closed, i could often see him, climbing the steps of heaven, slowly. everyday he got further away from me, and yet, it wasn't always him. there was always this figure beside him. she was always a constant blur, but her figure got clearer and clearer each day, until i finally realized that, the figure was me.
it was kind of eerie, if not, scary to see myself walking up the steps of heaven with father. it was like he had taken me with him, whether dead or alive; at this stage i was confused. but father answered my question, one day. even though i never asked, he always did.
"you're not going to die. not for a long time."
"then why are you taking me up to heaven?"
"i'm not taking anything with me."
"but i am there, beside you."
"no you're not. some day, you will understand, my dear."
after that, daylight came, and with everything else, father disappeared, and never came back in my dreams.
***
"heads up."
i had never been good with reflexes, nor acting on impulse. so when the basketball came hurling at me, i did not catch it, but rather, let it hit the side of my face, first making me lose my balance, before finally falling to the ground.
"i am so sorry."
i looked up, and there in front of me was a guy. his hair was dark, and his eyes, green. he held out his hands, and i took it, feeling my balance returning, as he pulled me back up.
"are you okay?"
"im fine" i replied, short and concise.
we stood their in silence, in the middle of the road, the basketball field behind him, and everything else, behind me. this was beginning to feel like a hallmark moment, and afraid that he might ask me out afterwards, i smiled tightly at him and said,
"i should go."
"yeah." he said, then turned away, with the basketball under his arm.
***
his name was orsino, or so i had learnt the next day, when i bumped into him again at my first literature class. it was classic, like many other cheesy, sexist, novels which i've read in the past. the girl always meets the perfect guy who plays basketball and they lived happily ever after. i did not want to have a happily ever after, at least not this one. i decided that maybe nothing would happen, i didn't know whether to talk to him, or just keep to myself, but when i sat down, he made the decision for us, and decided to sit beside him.
"hi. i'm orsino."
"i'm viola."
and it was that, that brought use to whatever we were right now. the first words are always the hardest, whereas everything else is right now.
***
with orsino, everything was always about adventures, and stories one at a time. he was all about reminiscing and he told me stories, which is how i learnt so much about him, albeit, slowly. orsino was different. he was interesting.
he never wanted to play basketball and he was terrible at it, he admitted to me one day. the reasons as to why he played, nevertheless, remains unexplained, to which he himself still do not know the answer to.
orsino played the piano. he rode bikes around the college square in the evenings, and buys me subway sandwiches for dinner.
we were both named after the lovers from shakespeare's twelfth night, and when we were reading the play together for fun during the summer, he took a line out and kept on repeating,
when i walked out of the doors in the morning.
Why, this is very midsummer madness.
when i laughed as he threw a watermelon seed to my hair
Why, this is very midsummer madness.
when i fall asleep on his shoulders, as we sat down to watch the stars on the beach,
Why, this is very midsummer madness.
one day, orsino took me biking. as i climbed on his bike, and sat on the handlebars, feeling the rush of wind blowing against my skin, and orsino's hand grasping tightly against mine, i felt the inevitability of freedom, belonging and maybe, finally, love.
it was something i had missed for so long. with father gone, it had disappeared with him, but orsino brought it back, and it was like him telling me the tales that had happened so long ago, bringing back to the present, where what once i wished for were finally tangible.
orsino made me talk to mother. he did not tell me to do it directly, but with everything that he brought into me, i began to change. classic example of the perfect love, but i had it happening to me. it was all too cliche, but amazing at the very same time.
orsino was different, and i fell in love with him.
but he didn't feel the same way about me.
***
i haven't been talking to orsino for quite a while now. we have seperated, into different corners of the world, and even though we used to be best friends, if not, something, we weren't anything right now. there is just something that's so inevitable with time, you can never stop it from happening, like the power of growing apart. it just happens.
they say that the first boy is always the hardest. and this is true, in so many more ways than one.
it is hard to forget the first boy you fall in love with, and in my case, it is simply just impossible. orsino meant so much more to me than love itself.
orsino was special,
and maybe in some perfect world, we would be together, but not in this one.
***
there comes a time when you would have to go back, and so i did. i wanted to get over orsino, once and for all, and maybe the only way to do this was to return to where i had the memories of an orsino existing, and then take it from there. i wanted to feel his existence, for the very last time, before forgetting. at least then, i'd knew that i had something of him, still in me, still new and although intangible, definitely not unforgettable. so i went back to the college square and took a walk down the rocky path, i knew so very well. there was something about the power of reminiscing, especially when you're in the place where it happened, i can't quite put a finger on it, but being there made everything seemed real. i could feel orsino's presence and hear his bicycle bells, ringing from the distance, it was like he was there, right behind me, coming up within close proximity,
and when i turned around, he really was.
"orsino." i said.
he smiled at me, "climb up."
i sat on his handrails, and he pedalled away, slowly at first, before finally gaining momentum and speeding up.
i turned around,
"slow down, orsino."
"what? so you're afraid of this now?"
i shook my head. he laughed, and placed his hands over mine, and held it tightly, like he had done so many times before.
"why are you here?" i asked.
he shook his head, "why are you here?"
i smiled, "probably the same reason as you."
"i doubt it."
"so why are you here then?"
orsino stopped the bike, "do you really want to know?"
i smiled, "yes."
"i've been coming back here every year. they say the best way to forget someone is if you go back to where it all came from. i've been doing that, but i guess it doesn't work. maybe because the person i've been trying to forget is just meant to stay."
i smiled, " so who is this girl which you've never told me about?"
"i love you viola, always have and always will."
and it was then, in the most fleeting of instances that i got my questions answered. the grasp of my hand, the evenings on his bike's handlebars, sharing subway sandwiches, it all had to mean something, if not, anything. if someone is meant to stay, then they will stay, if it is true love, it will always happen, and time does not stop it from happening, but rather prolongs. there is nothing that could prevent the happenings of our forever, and when something is meant to happen, it will happen. whatever the consequences, true love will always happen.
"i love you too orsino, always have, and always will."
orsino smiled, and as he leaned down, taking me in a kiss that left me breathless, i saw something, other than him, something further, within the figments of my dreams, slowly coming back, slowly appearing, like a tale of some time long ago. it was father, he wasn't climbing the stairs to heaven anymore. he was somewhere else, somewhere beautiful, somewhere perfect, that my mind cannot even fathom. this time, he was smiling, as he looked at me, and i realized that something had changed. i was no longer beside him.
thank you father, thank you for everything.
i love you most ardently, 10:43 PM.
