Low spirits

Carrying a heavy feeling in his chest, he started walking towards home. It is a long road, a long journey by car, but today, he decided to walk home. The road was dusty and the wind was a burst of heat from all the vehicles passing by. People were spilling out from establishments and public jeepneys on their way to rest from a tiring day. It must be such a  relief to know that the day is over and that they can go home with their family and sleep with ease while all he felt is something dark and dense slowly building up inside of him. Is this doubt? Is this fear? Is this guilt?   A heavy sigh left him and as the sun turned the city gold, he started lazily walking down the cracked pavement, thinking about all of the events that led him to this day and this sickening feeling.

They were close friends. She was a dancer and the captain of  a varsity team. They were taking up the same course in one of the country's prestigious university and because of that shared most of their time together. Many hours spent talking over the phone, the evidence still in the long list or record in his call log, which he now scrolls through. It was like a routine. It was gratifying to know that you have someone that you can always talk to, someone who will always pick up your calls. 

Until the calls became shorter. 

Excuses became longer.

And his dear friend started avoiding him on their way out of classes, dodging his offers to eat lunch or go to the library together. Surely, it wasn't love, for this friend of his is taken already. And it was clear enough that both of them were not attracted to each other romantically. So what was it? He tried asking her what is wrong, if shes having any problem and if there is something that he can do to help. But her answer would always be

"Nothing, I'm just really busy lately."

The feeling of being avoided remained and he knew that there is more to just being busy which made her at this way. Sure enough, he received news that there was a conflict going on with the varsity team. Apparently, a large amount of money had gone missing. Money which they were supposed to use for props and costumes for a coming competition and being the captain, she was pointed as being one of the suspects who "took" the money since circumstances show that only one of them can access each other's belongings. 

It was such a dark time for her, being blamed for the crime. She was suspended as captain and wasn't allowed to attend any practice until her suspension was lifted. He knew how hard it must have been to get ripped off from her passion. She spent most of her time training, she often incurred injuries due to training accidents and fatigue. She even misses classes in order to adjust to the member's free time and help them train. Now that their fingers are pointing at her to blame, it was as if all of her effort had been for naught. 

It was sad enough that she did not tell him this incident but wanting to be a good friend, he calmly approached her one Wednesday morning and asked about it. She smiling all the while, saying that it was okay, and that she accepts her suspension as she is partly responsible, being the captain and all. He gave her encouragement that evidences will prove her innocence and that everything will turn out just fine. She agreed that they will, and thanked him for his time. He taught that they will be back to normal but weeks had passed and their interaction became lesser and lesser. Until he could not take it anymore and simply did not approach her anymore, thinking she might need some space. He didn't call, didn't sent any messages, keeping only an eye on her through the internet, scanning through her post like a stalker. 

Confusingly, she seemed happy, with all her other friends. Some he knew, some he didn't. He started doubting himself. Maybe she just got tired of all of his rants. Maybe he was just uninteresting. And being incompetitive as he is, he shut everyone out. He deactivated his social media accounts and avoided people. As what Sylvia Plath once said, 

"It is so much safer not to feel, not to let the world touch me."

It seemed just right. It was safer to not see her happy without him, dismissing him as if they were never friends, not even knowing what changed. Not having any idea if he did anything wrong. Often, his sadness turns into anger, but it all comes back to the misery he felt, the gnawing feeling in his gut, as if he had lost a limb. 

His absence went on for months. Keeping silent and trying to forget the pain he felt, for he convinced himself that it was not worth it. She did not cherish her and so this terrible sorrow must not go on. He had not seen her for a while. He never knew what had happened to her, until the end of the year came and he figured that he should check on his account for a bit. It wouldn't hurt to log in for some time, especially if he avoid scrolling through his feed.

He checked messages from groupmates, reminders from professors, greetings from relatives, and a message for help.

She messaged him, a few weeks ago.

Asking for help. For she "Cannot bear it any longer". She kept seeking him out, pleading for him to reply.

A rush of panic came to him and dark possibilities went flashing through his head. He then planned to go to her next class, asking friends when and where it was. Luckily, his thought of her killing herself obviously did not happen so he felt somehow lighter. Until he saw her and came close. She looked tired and pale, and remained unsmiling as he came near. She kept her head down, in a way as if she felt ashamed of herself. When she finally, spoke, she just said that she's okay. 

Getting confused by the answer to an unasked question, he stared down at her. That's when he saw the the white gauze wrapping her left wrist, under the sleeve of the jacket she wore, which she now keeps on tugging down. 

The image of it haunts him now, as he forces his tired legs to drag him to bed. What had happened to her? Can he really call himself a friend if he doesn't even know why she did it? Why she attempted to hurt herself.

His head cannot process it anymore, especially when she never answered him properly. Lying on his bed, worn by the long walk, he forces his eyes shut though he knew that it would just be another sleepless night. 

"This is a punishment", he says to himself. Had he not shut everyone out during his dreary times, he might have helped her. But we have to help ourselves before we can help other people, right? 

But he cannot accept the permission to forgive himself. 

*picture from Pedro Marquez