Ivana thought it was all over, her story was all and told, written and read. She woke up one morning, thoughts of him came into her mind again. She smiled, her heart happy and she just let her mind go. It was joy in the morning for her. Sunday morning.
She asked herself if an SMS early in the morning would make him happy, too. "No, it wasn't early in the morning in Bukidnon, it was noontime already. Marcus may be eating his lunch this time", she thought. "Let him finish his meal or he might have indigestion if you disturb him while eating."
"Okay, I'll make coffee and breakfast so we both will be through, he, his lunch and me my breakfast", she thought. Time is getting short for her, she has to dress up for church, she hears mass every Sunday at 10:30 am. She might as well send SMS after hearing mass.
"Sorry, I'm ten minutes late", while making the sign of the cross with the holy water. She always included him in her prayers. She really cared for him, HE knows that, but she always asks if it is wrong to care for him, why it is impossible to forget him, hope he also thinks of her and cares for her. Keep him in good health. All these questions as well as pleas, come to her mind in her prayers. She lit a candle for him and for all whom she ought to pray for.
Walking just a stone's throw from home she meets a friend. She must have looked troubled or sad, because her friend asked what's wrong. "Huh? Why, I'm fine, I must hurry home, it looks like raining", Ivana answered. She must have looked weird, bothered, sad or preoccupied. Everyone does have a bad day some time, her friend would forgive Ivana for her looks.
She arrived home, kissed her son, her husband as a sign of blessing. Right after she started her computer and chikka text messenger and wrote: "A blessed Sunday! I included you in my prayers."
"He might think Mother Teresa is online", she thought jokingly. "I must let him know that I think of him." She even sent his horoscope for the day, told him she has still to cook lunch for the family. "And take care." Ivana knew he won't answer. It was often the case.
"Am I making a fool of myself? We just talked to each other yesterday!" Her heart jumped with joy as she heard his soft, masculine voice. Marcus made some jokes again which caused her bouts of laughter. "His playfulness is unbelievable", she thinks. "What does this guy have which keeps me entangled in care and affection? Ivana threw these questions softly to the wind.
Another year has passed. Ivana's thoughts won't let him go. She has tried so many times to just forget everything. There was never a cause to stick and die for him! There was no intimacy, no embraces, nothing happened which might have bound them together. She knows he can have his fun anytime, anywhere he wanted to, she would never know about it. She is so far from him.
But distance may have made Ivana's heart grow fonder.
"I can't live with this pang in my heart", Ivana tells herself over and over again. She's fears she would become schizophrenic, if this goes on. It won't do good to her heart, either. Moreover, this preoccupation is unhealthy for her psyche.
"Woman, you are not born to be a masochist, why do you choose to suffer?" She remembers a feminist saying this parole.
She has to compensate her emotional turmoil by keeping herself busy, with her office job, working overtime without pay. She manages household chores, social contacts with her "ka-chikka-an", bakes, reads, writes and does every known job. She must be overloaded, if one has to think about the things she does. But the thought of him haunts her with every single second idleness.
Once she thought of confiding to a very close friend. "You know what, I have a special friend, he's a nice guy, soft-spoken, gentleman..." She never had the guts to continue for fear of leakage, or she was just too proud to admit what she really feels. She tried to tell the same girl friend a second time around about him but her cowardice made a joke out of it instead.
Her girl friend dared to ask once, "Ivana, how's your friend?"
"I have lots of friends, who do you mean?", she answered superficially. Her girl friend may have a faint idea about her dilemna, but no, she must not learn about the complexity of the whole story. She may judge her as playing second fiddle, a coquette or something which would bruise her reputation. She is known for her rationality and admired for her harmonious family.
All these expectations and moral conciousness make her sick oftentimes, her individual freedom cries for something she and her heart alone long for. Individual freedom, if there is such liberty like that. This must be an extraordinary discovery in the field of human relationships, but up to present date, still taboo especially for us Filipino women. "especially for the people of Bukidnon", she thought.
Ivana may be accultured in some of her ideas, decision-making and life.s outlook, but the Filipino idea of womanhood has remained traditionally monumental though antiquated to her.
"There must be some truth about Sartre's idea about man being damned to freedom", she thinks philosophically. This thought didn't help her further to reconcile her foolish heart.
"Make him an inspiration instead of a desperation", her reason tells her. But her heart is getting weary.
"Marcus, before you go, please stay for a moment, a second, a minute, an hour or longer... "
Ivana feels her heart beat triumphantly.
To be continued...
Image Source - teklic
