#oc:phil

Sherry, She Needs Me

Sherry, I have something to say. Remember that day last summer when we first saw each other? I’ve seen you a few times before that but I don’t think you noticed me. I knew by the sound of your footsteps the second you walked into the door. The way your heels clicked against the tile floor when you moved. That was when I looked up and saw you. I watched you for a few days. You’d grab some groceries and walk up to the nearest register. I don’t recall you speaking with any of the other cashiers. In fact it was like you were always in a hurry to get somewhere. Then you spoke to me. Remember how I jumped and dropped all your change? You bent over, helping me collect all those coins. I still wonder if that quarter is still suck somewhere in the register. Maybe some customer found it and added it to their change jar. Once in a while I checked the area, hoping for it to turn up somewhere. It’s hopeless, I know. Maybe I’m just thinking of an excuse to see you. But things have changed now. It can never be the same again. I still remember our hands touching. When you asked me if I felt anything when we first met, I lied. I said I felt nothing. And you believed me. At least, that’s what you wanted me to believe. You knew, didn’t you? Is that why you kept going after me? Being charming by being you. The way you say my name like it was your most prized possession? How you looked at me with those deep blue eyes like I was your entire world. I’m not blind, Sherry. Through those crystal eyes, I knew exactly how you felt toward me. And it scared me. I didn’t want to hurt you. In fact, that was the very last thing I wanted to do to you. When I cancelled that dinner date last night, I thought it would give you the idea that we were just friends. If I knew how much that date meant to you, I would have come. I could have told you all the things I regretted about us, but what is the point of that? I’m glad I met you, Sherry. Really, I am. But the truth is that sometimes I think we were better off not meeting each other. It’s not that I don’t like you. I’m still confused about everything. Us. You. Me. Ever since that argument, I lie awake at night thinking of you. When I close my eyes, I see you. The way your dark hair blows in the wind. How your eyes light up when you told me about your dreams about being an artist. Your delicate hands moving fluidly across a canvas as your innermost thoughts find their way out through an old paintbrush. But when I’m with you, I see someone else. Bright red hair tied up in a loose ponytail. Hearing the sound of someone speaking at the rate of over a hundred words per minute. When I saw your eyes, I saw a pair of eyes that had been through hell and back, a sharp contrast from a face full of life. It’s strange, isn’t it? When I see you, I just kept thinking of her. And now I can’t stop thinking of you.

We’ve known each other for about a year. We started dating months ago. By the time you came in, we were taking a break from each other. If it helps, she doesn’t know anything about you. I think the two of you would get along well. I guess this is one of the main reasons why I was so confused. You see, Sherry, I love her. Notice how I’m using present tense. The problem is that I love you too. We were sitting outside in the field watching the stars when I kissed you. I was so ashamed, Sherry. I just wanted to run off, to disappear into the night. You seemed surprised at first, but then you grabbed me. You kissed back with a passion so strong that I felt like I was burning. I couldn’t run. Your arms held me so tight as if the world was spinning so fast and I was the only thing stable enough to keep you grounded. To run would just wound you. I couldn’t do that to you. So I lied. Said that I loved you. Sometimes I wonder if things would have worked out better if it weren’t for her. Other times I blame myself for being such a coward for not telling you the truth earlier. I just wished that you told me the truth about you too. I remember when you showed me your place, a small cabin near the mountains. You apologized for the mess while shoving all your art supplies off the table. While you were moving the items away, a box fell down, spilling its contents on the floor. I reached down to help you clean up, but you pushed me away. It’s for the pain from holding a paintbrush too long, you explained before I could utter a single word. I feel like a fool for not noticing. The fact that you were in such a hurry to put them away should’ve been a sign.

Unfortunately my mind was too preoccupied to think about that little detail. Then you started pushing me away. You would come over in tears and when I asked you if anything was wrong, you changed the subject. Finally you told me that you were rejected from the art school you wanted to attend so badly. We spent a night in your favorite place and I tried to get your mind off the letter by pointing out the constellations in the sky. I remember you laughing when I told you about how some of my friends got into a huge argument about the story behind one of the constellations. That was the last time I heard you laugh like that. After that night, you stopped answering my calls. When you came into the store to pick up the usual, you didn’t say a single word to me. It was like before we met, but this time you were running out of the door. Then out of nowhere you called me, asking me to come over. I arrive to find out that you set up a candlelight dinner in your studio. The way you acted was as if the last few weeks never happened. One minute I was standing by the door, the next we were on the floor, with you kissing and holding me as if your life depended on it. You’re such a mystery, Sherry. Did you know that? That night, we barely said much as you went back to being your reclusive self. You fell asleep later, in the cot in your studio. I didn’t want to bother you so I took a walk along the trail in the back of your house. You’re a very special person, Sherry. I don’t want you to ever forget that. Screw that rejection letter; you’re just as good as those professionals. The way you see the landscape behind your house, all those colors. Only you can see beauty in places people don’t even bother to look. You were right; the field never looks the same every time you look at it. I saw the fireflies dancing in the sky and thought of you. I passed by that old oak tree where you carved our initials on. You weren’t exaggerating when you described to me how the mountains looked during a full moon. That sight just took my breath away. I wished you were there to see it with me. When I came back, you were still asleep. I didn’t know what to do so I decided to stay until you woke up. It didn’t occur to me at the time that something was wrong. It was around seven when I found you asleep. I assumed that you were busy at first. Looking back, I noticed other things about you. The dark circles around your eyes, the way you moved, it seemed different. Those eyes, those sad tired eyes that were once full of passion now were dull and empty. I noticed that you weren’t painting as much. Your recent paintings seemed different. Those once smooth brushstrokes looked rough. Bright vibrant colors seemed a little too bright, as if they were hiding something.

Then I did something I wished I didn’t do. I went to your room and looked through some drawers. I know it was a stupid thing to do, but I didn’t know what overcame me. Out of all the drawers I had to choose that one. At the time it wasn’t like I opened a can of worms. Mild curiosity took over and I just looked at some of the contents in the drawer. I swear, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy. In fact, it wasn’t until I saw your sister when I started to put two and two together. You knew, didn’t you? Was that why you didn’t seem surprised when we had that argument? I couldn’t sleep that night. For hours I just walked aimlessly around your house. Once in a while, I checked on you. That was the last time I saw you look so peaceful. After lying on the couch for about an hour or so, I finally fell asleep. That morning I was woken up the sound of the door opening. I immediately got up, thinking that it was you. It was your sister, the one you described as stingy and uptight. You didn’t talk about her much, but I knew whom she was because the two of you look kind of alike. When we saw each other, she thought I was an intruder and grabbed the nearest object she could find. She threatened to call the police and beat me with the pencil she was holding. It was frustrating trying to explain to her that I was your friend. She may be a bit overprotective, but it was clear that she cared about you a lot. When she finally calmed down, she asked me how you were doing. I didn’t know how to answer. Then she told me everything. Poor, poor Sherry, she said. It all made sense now. That was why you were so insistent on getting into the art school. Why you loved me with such passion. Why you suddenly became so distant and unreachable. You were fighting a hopeless battle and running out of time. And you never said a single word about it. Before I could respond, you came in. It wasn’t until you spoke when we both turned around. You were angry, either with her or me, or maybe both of us. There was something different about you. The way your robe hung loosely in your thin frame. You had become a shadow of who you were weeks ago. It hurt, Sherry, seeing you in such a state. It hurt even more when you screamed at me to get out. Then you started screaming at your sister and went into a fit of hysterics. I felt like an idiot standing there while your sister tried to calm you down. Not knowing what else to do, I ran to my car and drove off.

Later that day, you called me for the last time. I went back to your house that evening. It was the last time I walked into that door. We fought. I can’t remember what we were yelling at each other about, but it was bad. I don’t even want to remember the things we said. Just thinking about that night upsets me. I walked out of your life for the last time. This was the one moment in my life where I wished I could turn the clock back. Walking out on you like that was probably one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made. Did you know how upset I was after that night? Ever since that night, you stopped coming to the store. I don’t blame you, though. It just hurt having to fake a smile to customers when in reality I just wanted to shut myself in my room. I never told anyone about you. I don’t know why, but I kept our relationship a secret. When I was with you, everyone else assumed that I was doing something else. No one suspected anything. I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I just don’t know anything about us anymore. Ever since that night, I kept telling myself that I would try to fix our relationship. I could just drive up to your house with a handful of your favorite flowers and an apology. We could have just kissed and make up. Unfortunately, it’s not that easy, isn’t it? The truth is, I was scared. I’m not your knight in shining armor, Sherry. I’m just an ordinary high schooler. A guy who wrongly led you on when in reality, he is in love with someone else. She’s been through a lot, Sherry. Strong would be the best word to describe her. I wouldn’t last a day in her shoes, especially after what happened to her in these past few months. I don’t know how she manages to go on. What I’m trying to say, Sherry is that you helped me. She was going through a rough time like you were, although her situation was completely different from yours. I stood by her side and held her when she cried. I called her often, making sure that she was all right. I wished that I could have done that to you. I felt like a coward when I ran out that door for a second time. You needed me and I left. I just ran right out of your life. I was scared, Sherry. That was why I left. And now I learned my lesson. Is it too late to fix our relationship, Sherry? Is there any point in seeing each other again after all we’ve been through? I can’t go on like this anymore. I love you, but not like this. She will always be first, and I’m sorry about it. I never intended for it to go that far. Then again, you probably didn’t either.