Breakup tale- Creative writing 10 version

Grandma and the Break up

            The excitement I felt a while ago did not subside with the growing silence between us. I sat at the sofa opposite him and just stared at his blank face. I tried talking for a while, sharing how I topped the Math examination, how I and my sister spent P5,000 on a day, and how my high school friend found a boyfriend. He just sat there quietly staring at me but the blank look in his face told me he was neither listening nor interested.

            Fear jolted me. I know that something was wrong. I can feel it coming. With his lack of response, I chose to stay quiet and just thought of how much we missed each other after almost a month of  separation. How I prayed for the days to pass quickly just to have this day. Now its here, I do not know where to channel the anticipation and excitement I have. I have to overpower that feeling that something was wrong. For no reason, I felt a surge of panic engulf me. I tried to tell him how I missed him but I can not. I am afraid of what he would answer me.

            I chose to dwell in silence fearing that I may cross the line with the stupid stories I shared. There we were, two souls looking at each other attempting to gauge the message our eyes conveyed. I failed to look into him, his was blank. I know he can see all of me- the anticipation, excitement, joy, and love. I moved my gaze away from him. Then he said he missed me so much. And that was all. Even if it was mid afternoon, the room seemed to be trapped in the still of the night. Not even the wind dared to blow the chimes at the nearby window.

            I searched him with my eyes and tried to find the reasons why all this silence enveloped us.  He haven’t changed that much.  I smiled when I saw his face, the familiar sunburns that ruined his handsome features were not there. Maybe the sun in ZXVVG is not that angry to the cadets this time of year or maybe they were finally allowed to use sun block. His skin was evenly tanned which made him even more attractive to me. He  was darker the last time we saw each other. His hair had grown longer compared to the cadet picture he sent me at the start of this month. Nothing really changed. He was still the funny guy who used to be my best friend, the same guy who made me laugh with his antics.

            Thoughts were broken when he stood and entered their dining area. I assumed he would get some snack. When he was gone, I realized that the suffocating silence was heightened by the absence of his family- both parents at work and his sister at school. I looked around the sala and was surprised to still find our boy scout pictures displayed on top of their old piano. A stranger would surely mistake me as a member of this family. Then I heard him coming and I was seized again by fear.

 He came back with a tray filed with some fruits, a knife, 2 brandy snifters and a medium sized bottle of Grand Matador. I stared at him blankly to let him know that I was not interested, how can he forget that I do not drink and that I hate seeing him drinking. Yet he smiled and set the things on the table. He started pouring on the snifters and motioned me to take my part. I did not move. Then he stood and went to their kitchen again and wasn’t long before he emerged with a glass of apple juice. Upon settling in his seat, he filled his snifter to the brim and then finished it off with one gulp. And then another and another. I took a sip at the juice then picked an apple and decided to peel it slowly just to have something to do. I asked him if that’s what they learn in the academy and he just smiled while gesturing a toast to me. I know exactly what was happening, he was getting drunk just to tell me something. I waited for the words patiently because I think this was the best thing to do.

            “I’m sorry” he said. I stopped peeling the apple. I did not answer him. Then he asked me if I remember the girl that he had been talking to me about- the researcher whom he grew close with because we have a lot of similarities. The favorite songs, our features and the way we talk are just few things he claimed to be our similarities. I nodded because I remembered how I dreaded the stories of her. I could predict where this story was going, I have watched a great deal of this in the local teleseryes. I know he would tell me that he was sorry but he fell in love with the girl and that we can not be what we used to be anymore. But he never said it. He continued to drink. Then I looked again at his eyes, I saw loneliness. He began to cry. “Mama and Papa are not here because they are with her” he said. I dared not to ask why and just continued to peel the apple. After a long silence, “She is giving birth to my child.” I automatically stopped peeling and looked at him. I tried to stay calm while he was already sobbing. “Im sorry” he said. “Then why are you not with her?” I tried to hide my emotions and started to act like a friend as if nothing really happened. “It is a premature birth and it is so risky, I don’t want to see her suffering so much. I love her” he said. I was struck by what he said. I swallowed thrice to remove the tears choking me.” What if they find out at the academy? You will be kicked out.” He was silent. And then I can not stand it any longer. The intensity of the pain had no word to correspond with. I am not sure if it was because of this emotional pain that I was starting to feel physically weak too. I dropped the apple and the knife and started to collect my things. He reached out and pulled me to the sofa where he was sitting. I was so weak to resist.  “But I loved you, believe me. I love her because I see you in her” he whispered with his face very near my ears. I can smell brandy from his breath and I moved to where he I used to sit. “I said I love you” he shouted! I did not answer. 

“I am sorry too” was all I managed to say. He was crying. Then he smashed the bottle of Grand Matador on the table. It broke with a loud crash. His hands were bloody and he picked up the largest broken piece and played with it. The pain a while ago developed into nausea but I tried to compose myself. I picked up the knife and the apple and said calmly but with anger, “I am really sorry, but someone has to go.” He smiled with tears and looked at my glass of juice then said, “Yeah, I guess so. Someone has to go.”