credits: as tagged ~ thanks, Kel! <3

No matter how much I want to, the person I can’t see
Trying to think of you, trying to think of you

As a dim figure appears
No matter how much I try, I’m still a helpless person

I tried calling you, tried calling you
No matter how much I try to recall the dim memories

Only those warm eyes appear
Often uncontrollably thinking of those memories

Even if I say no now, I still can’t help it
I live within the remaining memories of you

No matter how much I wait, I can’t do anything about it
I’m waiting for you, waiting for you

No matter how painful the memories that have disappeared are
Only those warm eyes often appear

Only those warm eyes appear
Often uncontrollably thinking of those memories

Even if I say no now, I still can’t help it
Those memories of us always together can only remain where they are

I often think of those hands that found me
I often think of your smiling face as you saw me

Even if I say no now, I still can’t help it
I live within the remaining memories of you

Only those warm eyes appear
Often uncontrollably thinking of those memories

Even if I say no now, I still can’t help it
I live within the remaining memories of you

(English translation c/o yuyaindou @ blogspot)

This was the Tohoshinki song Micky sang during our noraebang session. The title is “Doushite Kimi Wo Suki Ni Natte Shimattandarou?” which translates to “Why Did I End Up Falling For You?” It’s not exactly how my love story goes down to a T, but the concept is there. Enough to remind me of how bitter and painful things were, are, would be…

*It’ll be a little redundant if I post the lyrics since the video already has English subs, so yeah, I’m not going to post the lyrics anymore.*

I’m not going to give an in-depth summary of what DJS is all about — I recommend watching it. But I would like to show a snippet (sorry for the spoiler) of Episode 22, when Dal Ja broke up with Kang Tae Bong. (Please be reminded, I am suffering the after-effects of an informal breakup, if it really is a breakup to begin with.) It’s an all-too familiar transition: acknowledging the pain but telling yourself all the while that you’re OK, that your world with still go on turning, but then when all of the memories start congesting your heart and mind, you realize, dejectedly, that you are definitely NOT okay.

The following sequences of “The Morning After [The Breakup]” (timestamp 9:36) is the only way I can fully narrate clearly what I’ve been experiencing lately.

DalJasSpring21.1

A bonus on this episode for me is how Dal Ja’s narration began with why a woman initiates a breakup. I’m pretty sure all of us who’ve been in relationships at one time or another, are guilty of doing at least one of these.

Tall, typical mestizo. He was definitely the usual pretty boy, the boy-next-door type, although in a better packaging. And why wouldn’t you call it “better” (with better being an understatement)? Imagine. Aside from a droolworthy face, he had the brains of a medical student, which follows that he also has the perseverance for long study hours over countless cups of coffee, or venti cappucinos for that matter. Come on. We all know most, if not all med students, come from filthy rich families. Not to mention, he exuded a machismo that deserved only the coolest and hippest fraternity memberships.

Who would’ve thought that a random check-up at the emergency room of UPHR would leave such a lasting impression?

I expected that to be our first and last encounter. To be honest, I hoped, I prayed, but for the record, I never counted on it. First of all, I never expected to be back after that consultation. Secondly, what were the odds that out of all the medical clerks on duty, he would be there if I did go back for a follow-up?

Around that time, God must have decided that I was a good Catholic girl, although the reward did have some drawbacks. My asthma attack that very day worsened. Extremely high fevers, icky wheezes, super viscous phlegm (yuck) — I’m sure you want me to stop. I will, don’t worry. I just wanted to make sure you understood that I did NOT get better even after the medicine he prescribed under a resident doctor’s supervision. But I digress…

So back I went to the hospital for confinement. Out of all the clerks on duty that day I was admitted, it just had to be his friend Erick. Being stuck in a semi-private room with no TV, he and a female chum just had to be gracious enough to visit me for a little chitchat — a chitchat that had me telling them all about my little crush on a certain medical clerk. Hahaha.

How could I forget that very day when I was simply bored out of my mind and I heard a knock on the door? How when it opened, such joy, such bliss, such rapture just filled me to the core? I would never forget how blue that Lacoste jacket was… how cute and shy and boyish he looked despite his age as he stepped into the room.

Up to now I still feel like diving under the covers whenever I think of the day Erick introduced us. How out of sheer kilig I threw my face on the pillow and tugged my hair with my own hand. Pathetic! How much I was trembling the day he graced my little semi-private cubicle with his very much-lauded presence. I admit having acted so childishly during those instances. If given the second chance, I would behave appropriately but still be me. Don’t get me wrong, we may have clicked. Even just as friends. But, I guess I’ll never find out…

The girl telling this story is the same girl who angered her mom with a landline-to-cellphone 5 minute call just to greet him a happy graduation. She’s the same girl who made sure she had a Nokia 3310 for her first phone, because that was his phone at that time.

This is going to sound really desperate, but I still have his number. Not in any of my phones though — I know it by heart.

It’s been how many years… I was merely a college sophomore taking up occupational therapy when this took place. In spite of that, when I think of him, it never fails to bring a smile to my lips. My heart still hammers wildly at the thought of his boyish smiles.