hindi kasalanan ni colet na hindi ka handa sa kaya nyang ibigay.
hindi nya kasalanang hanggang doon ka lang.
you shied away when she gave you flowers. you never finished reading her handwritten letters. you got angry when she took pictures of you, and angrier so when she would claim they were pretty.
in your defense, you grew up unused to compliments and all other expressions of admiration. both giving and taking them. years of people—even your own parents—constantly seeing the worst in you was reason enough not to trust and to prefer the shadowed, ignored corner of the room. it was reason enough to be suspicious of why and how colet even noticed you were there.
what did she need?
did you look too angry at the world, and she thought she could fix that?
did you look too sad? did she think she could fix that, too?
did you look too weak? did she think you needed her?
what's with these flowers all of a sudden? and it came with a note?
‘smile ka nga kung pwedeng manligaw.’
you looked up, and there she was, eyes on you, her own smile becoming wider as she anticipated yours.
contempt burned in your chest. you gripped your bag a little too tight when you grabbed it, then you left the table. you left the flowers. you left the note. you left colet and she never got to see your smile.
but colet did not seem to get the message. or, perhaps, she deliberately refused to. because since then, you always found her close. she went wherever you went. she kept her distance, but also kept her eyes on you.
“ano bang kailangan mo?”
“wala.”
“e bakit sunod ka nang sunod?”
“wala akong kailangan, pero may gusto ako,” she said. “gusto kong makilala ka.”
there it was again, her smile, and she was looking at you again, like she was anticipating yours.
it was annoying. it was new and you had no idea how to respond. you rolled your eyes, but you never told her off again. she clung onto you like your personal keychain.
you were each other’s opposites. where you were irked, she was happy. where you were still, she was moving. your lips were a thin line of apathy, and hers were always an arching bow of enthusiasm.
she made up for the silence—your silence. sometimes by singing. most of the time, by talking.
and boy, did nicolette vergara have a lot to talk about.
“init. kakabwisit.”
“nakatulog na ‘ko’t lahat sa klase na ‘yun, pagkagising ko kumukuda pa rin s’ya sa una.”
“’reincarnation, reincarnation. pft. please lang, ayoko nang mabuhay ulit.”
you did a great amount of listening and nodding and furrowing your brows. but overtime you warmed up to the company. it wasn't so dull anymore. wasn't so... sad... anymore. and to her credit, her lame jokes made you laugh quite a few times.
"pinaghuhugas ako ni mama ng pinggan. may pasok ako sabi ko. tapos gabi na daw ah? sabi ko, may pasok ako sa pinto ng kwarto ko."
it was silly. the stupidest thing you've ever heard. but it made you smile, and it made her happy—she got you to smile when she stopped anticipating it.
and colet liked music. she was never not in singing competitions at school. she had a beautiful voice, and she said it was “the only hope the world had to save artistry.” she liked to joke about it, but you knew colet genuinely thrived whenever she got to show this gift to people.
she liked the sound of deafening applause and cheers.
she liked taking a bow in front of all of them, taking pride in the fact that she took them somewhere else for a short period of time with that voice.
but most of all, she liked to see you among them. you did not clap. you did not scream. but you were there, smiling. you were there, and you were her friend, and she didn't have to hear it to know that you were proud of her.
colet liked music. she liked to sing in front of an audience. and there was one more thing—she liked the guitar, but it seemed she only liked to play in private.
"bakit hindi ka sumasali sa mga banda?"
"e, hindi naman ako magaling talaga sa gitara," she said, which was funny because right after thar, she turned a peg, then plucked a string. winced. turned it again just a bit more, plucked it again, and nodded in approval.
it was funny, because when she strummed those strings and pressed onto those chords, she would automatically close her eyes, and even though you two shared the same space, the sound she made seemed to encase her in a whole different world.
you didn't believe her reason. 'hindi magaling sa gitara'? no. colet vergara knew all the things she was good at, and playing was one of them.
she didn't join bands, didn't play to an audience, because the guitar was her personal nirvana. something almost sacred. something that was hers alone.
then came your birthday, when she insisted on treating you to dinner. your birthday, when she gave you flowers again. and with a note again.
‘pwede na bang manligaw?’
you looked up. she was smiling, but was not anticipating yours. she was smiling and her eyes glinted with gentle sincerity. you remember this moment like it was the back of your hand. the details... the breeze from that night would brush against your skin whenever you looked back. you remember it well, because for the first time in your life, you wanted something you knew you could have—you wanted something that openly and proudly wanted you back.
"colet..." you muttered.
you loved her name. nicolette. it was composed of pointy letters, but so gentle when the sound of it rolled off your tongue. this duality, this was colet, reflected even by her name.
"okay lang kung hindi. just figured i'd shoot another shot," she said.
it was difficult, looking back at her. she said it was okay, and you believed her. but that it was okay did not mean it wouldn't hurt when you said no.
"no, colet." you swallowed. "hindi ko kaya."
you remember that night well, because for the first time in your life, something wanted you back, but you were the one who turned away.
you remember it well. how could you not? it was the last time you let her come close. the last time you welcomed her presence in yours.
you're aware she was startled by the sudden changes—you being so quiet again, being so rude and defensive. she asked you patiently what was wrong, and she was startled you snapped at her and told her to leave you be—she was hurt when, after a long time of avoiding her gazes, you looked her in the eyes again, and you told her you couldn't have a 'friend' taking advantage of your closeness.
her mouth said nothing, but her eyes did.
her eyes said it all.
you caught the shift in them, from confusion to shock, and then gradually, to realization.
realization that her love, no matter how hard she tried, was merely tolerated.
realization that she didn't deserve this.
and so nicolette vergara did leave you be.
worst days of your life.
you didn't recall loneliness to be so unbearable. the last time you felt it was so long ago, and that time, it didn't take a shape like it did now. loneliness before was not the absence of stupid jokes and a running mouth and a beautiful singing voice.
loneliness before was just empty. now, it was filled with the echoes of memories. echoes of nicolette vergara. there but not quite. felt but couldn't be touched.
and.
she wrote you a song, you know.
she never gave it to you. she never sung it. but she would play it on her acoustic guitar when the night was just… too quiet that it made space for memories she didn't wish to revisit.
she played it when she missed you a little too much. when the rope she walked on felt a little frailer than usual.
she played it when she needed to hurt, to be reminded that this was the pain she would never put herself through again.
(hindi mo rin kasalanang hindi ka pa handa. hindi mo kasalanang pakiramdam mo ay nasisiksik ka sa sarili mong mundo tuwing may lumalapit.
hindi mo kasalanang pinili nyang sumugal at magbuhos sa basong hindi lang kapos, kundi may karupukan—kahit anong basong nakasanayang magyelo ay mababasag sa biglaang buhos ng mainit na tubig.
katulad ng baso, hindi mo kasalanang nakasanayan mo ang lamig. pero kaiba sa baso, kaya mong magpasya—na magsimulang muli, na damhin dahan-dahan ang init hanggang sa makasanayan mo rin ito.
hindi si colet o kahit sino ang makakapagpasya para sayo. gagawin mo iyon para sa sarili mo, kapag handa ka na.)