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Cloudless Sky

I always feel that I never deserve love. What’s worse is that Ialways dream about loving and being loved, reaching the peak of that overwhelming feeling fantasy, only, as if by stroke of midnight,it brings me back into reality- into my ragged reality. My friendswere the unfortunate trash bins of this desperation and although Ihave known full well that they are damn so tired of listening to myself-pity rants, I still don’t stop. Maybe it’s just what I need. I don’tknow, that’s just how I feel. Maybe I was spoiled by them, alwaysknowing they will always be there. I had grown to feel better,knowing that they still listen even though I was already off the markin putting myself down. And somehow, it has been quite a relief they’d just listen and never try to say anything which was what Ineeded the most.But when they tried setting me up on a date with a perfectstranger, I don’t know if they did it to prove that I was wrong allalong or that they’d just played a game on me. I never blamedthem, never ever. Only myself. For being myself. That’s why I neverdeserve to be loved.Before I get anywhere with that one date that gone so horriblyterrible that was so mortifying as never had and will never be asmortifying in my whole life, I just want to be clear that the feeling of being undeserving of anybody’s love is not a drama. It’s sort of come out from my superego or something. It’s like my id was theflirt one, only by thought though, and then the superego was theone who makes the id realize that she’s being a bitch and thatshould be stopped because… Duh? Are you pretty in the first place?Are you smart? Are you even funny? Can you do anything aside fromdreaming you deserve someone so heavenly when you are sopurgatory? Though, I love id. I love thinking of the pleasure of fantasizing,thinking of what-ifs. And I always hate whenever superego enters,such a killjoy. The reason why I always run to my friends- anotherpoint which I want to clear out. By saying that I run into themdoesn’t mean that I go on teary-eyed, hugging them tight, wailingabout me being a repellent of love. It’s inviting them for a night-outon one depressing day, rather night, when superego hits again,sitting with them by the table and drinking until I pass out, myfriends holistically prepared for me, either I will behave so badly or Iwill have to barf. I think that was all clear right?Now with the date. I don’t know what’s gotten into their mindshaving to put me up with a date with someone neither of them fullyknow! And to think I was their friend! Sally told me he’s some guyher classmate’s cousin’s friend recommended because thatclassmate’s cousin challenged that classmate’s cousin’s friend if hecan date just about any girl. And I was that

just about any girl-

I wasn’t any good with strangers nor was I any good witharrogant selfish goddamn egotistic maniac. I tried very hard toplease him, talking just about anything so that silence may be filledonly to be told that I was noisy and a chatterer. I was trying all right?I was!Ok, so I felt I was indeed a trying hard. Why wouldn’t I bethen?! He arrived at the dating place in a car, stepping out in a suitas if straight from work (okay, maybe he was), having a flawlessskin (which made me look at my tomato-ish zit beside my nose andan insect bite on my arm), well-cut hair (I refused looking up at mywavy bangs) and a fluent speech. I tried not remembering myself, asimple school girl with a couple of 2.5s, twisted tongue, broom-likehair, face without make-up and a trying-hard-to-be-fashionable-obviously outfit—ok, so I remembered myself there right? Andwasn’t it grossly humiliating?I tried walking away, my mind filling with ‘strategies’ and‘techniques’ of getting away. But I didn’t. Id made me stay, flirt, shedictated me. Although superego came to the rescue (the only time Iwas thankful of her), id triumphed for the first time (and the worst of all opportunities to triumph). I stayed, I stayed being simple, I triednot to flirt, and he doesn’t care. He just doesn’t care. We just ateand I talk and he nodded and I talk again and he nodded again and Italked more and he made progress by yawning and I shut up and he,feeling satisfied with himself, mused at me and smirked… for asecond. Then he was up even though I obviously have to finish mylast bit of the cake. I hurriedly launched it to my mouth andimmediately followed him going out of the restaurant, slamming thedoor at my face. I have felt more like his attendant than his date.When I was outside, I found him standing there waiting for me,tapping his foot in impatience and glancing at his watch. “Whatnow?” he asked me. He had the nerve to ask me after all of that.I took the opportunity to be superior, deciding for a walk onthe park a few steps away from the restaurant. He just followed andby the time we arrived, we were strolling, he in front and me at hisback. So much for superiority…We never talked but I heard a few yawns from him. I wasn’tany attractive to him nor I was any entertaining to him. In thatinstant when we were both sitting in the bench, I wanted to cry, Iwanted to burst into tears. I wanted to face him and shout at the thetop of my lungs making it clear to him that he’s hurting me. I know Iwasn’t worth loving but… CAN’T HE JUST HIDE IT?! I feel like dying,no self-esteem left in me, no sense of self left in me. I am swearingthis man…My tears were about to fall down. I was already sniffing, tryingto force the tears back into my eyes. When I felt one teardrop fall, I jerked up and felt my feet running when I found him before me andbumped into him. When I glanced up at him, I can feel his hand onmy cheek and…

Kissed me. On the lips. One soft kiss. And then again, by thistime urging me to open my mouth. And I did, I did open my mouthand then he kissed again, nibbling on my upper lip, and then on theother, and then again on the other. And then the most horrible thinghappened. He put his other hand on my other cheek, pressing my jaw hard when I suddenly feel something wet, slimy, tickling me,and I jerked. I looked at him wide-eyed as he looked at me frowning.Something in my head whispered, “That was the… of course, youidiot!”I was frozen, ice cold frozen while he immediately snappedback into reality and was indifferent… for a minute. By the time thenext minute passed, he smirked and let out a rude laugh. He turnedto me and say right into my face, “That sucks,” and he turned awayand left me on the park alone in the middle of the night, not evenbothering to ride home, not even bothering to offer.I can walk. Maybe that’s what’s in my subconscious as I juststarted stepping my feet. I was in a daze and I was walking, mymind flying into other things. My first kiss, my very first kiss. If only Iknew that was a tongue… Right, what was I thinking? I should haverun away, I should have not let him stop me. But that, it felt, I don’tknow, something. But come on Anna Molly, you are a stupid bitch!Can you remember his reaction just as you remember that damndelightful kiss? He laughed at you, he ridiculed you, he was justplaying with you! Your first kiss wasted on some scoundrel, somescoundrel who made you feel like a woman and ended it in aninstant.My friends knew about it and they laughed at me as well. AndI spent the night drinking more than I used to plus behaving like thebitch I never was. By the next day, I woke up in my bedroom. Sallywas curled beside me, Howard genuflecting at the foot of the bed, Julie resting her head on my butt, Peter slumped on the bean bagand Bryan pasting his nose on my foot. I just smiled and went backto sleep.For almost a month after that date, I fantasized about Zack,that arrogant man who kissed me. I dreamt about him, about us,about kissing again, about not jerking again. But then I can healwounds instantly, if that was in any other way counted as a wound...I’ve forgotten about him in a month. Gratefully, my unworthiness-to-be-loved feeling wasn’t aggravated by that incident but instead waslost. I can bravely go alone into that same park, lie down and stareat the sky peacefully. It’s not him that I remember, or that incident,but the thing after that. I’ve learned one valuable lesson. There willalways be people who would listen and never get tired of it, peoplewho would drink with you and yet know how to manage you whenyou get drunk, people who would set you up with dates (or just ‘adate’ for that matter) and laugh at that horrible disaster and still befriends with them, and people who would crowd around you in yourbed as you sober altogether.