These Fragmented Parts

CHAPTER TWELVE

“There will be dozens of people who will take your breath away, but the one who reminds you to breathe is the one you should keep.”

-c.p

I FOUND MYSELF STAYING for a long time in the café despite I had no one to talk to and got myself some warm meal for the sake of my birthday and to trick myself into thinking that I did something way different than the usual, but I got home right after, in the same space of nothingness, tranquil but empty. I haven’t even unpacked aside from my clothes that are now in the dresser, and some kitchen tools and utensils but the rest of it remained untouched which I should be doing by now. I was just apparently, uninspired. I sat on the couch, and began contemplating for a while- I wondered if birthdays should really be special and celebrated or our parents just somehow conditioned us to expect something on that certain day despite it is far from anything extraordinary. For what reasons? To celebrate a long life? To be victorious of surviving? I barely fit any reason to survive upon my lack of purpose. But somehow, I couldn’t deny that I was feeling lonelier as the seconds pass by with my thoughts lingering in my head, how this became another obnoxious day that ignites agitation, frustration and lingering melancholy seemingly an infestation. 

I wanted to let my tears out in hopes that it would placate the baggage within me, but I reached the point wherein I just let it decompose me alive. I don’t know what’s worse. I frowned in confusion when the doorbell suddenly rang which is strange for me, no one knows where I live except for my family and I don’t even have friends who generally gave a s**t of my whereabouts. I opened the door. And to my surprise, it was Adam, holding a plate with a cupcake on the center surrounded by fortune cookies. “Happy Birthday Charlie,” I was taken aback. 

“But why?” 

“Are you not going to let me in? I might drop this; I have shaky hands.” Adam chuckled which made his dimples more evident. I cued for him to come inside, as I shut the door. He placed the plate on the kitchen counter where the cupcake with pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles has a small powder blue candle. He leaned on the counter in anticipation of my response but timidity was eating me out although I couldn’t help but smile. 

“The reason why I left the café a while ago is to look for some birthday cake,” He confessed. “But before I do some story telling please blow the candle first,” He lifted the plate once again and despite my lingering timidity I smiled, I didn’t make a wish but I blew the candle. I looked at him, and he was smiling as if all his sorrows were washed away. 

“Did you utter your birthday wish? 

“I didn’t,” I said. “Oh no, you must have a birthday wish, I shall rekindle this again.” Adam laughed, fishing for something in his pocket. 

“Hey, did you know once you use a candle it loses its magical properties once you kill it through blowing, so there’s no use if you rekindle it once again. “ I told him. 

“And who said that?” He was stifling a laugh but I just shrugged and suppressed a smile because the idea itself seemed absurd and he knew that of course. “I have stumbled upon it in the internet once,”

“Oh, I see. I thought you are a witch, yourself, but you are not. So you must have a birthday wish. The candle must serve its utmost purpose.” He insisted and by this time, the lighter was already fished out from his pocket as he lit the candle. 

“There,” He lifted the plate once again as I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I want to be at peace. I thought despite its absurdity and blew the candle. After uttering my wish silently, I opened my eyes to see him smiling. “Thank you for this, I appreciate it.” I took the plate from him and place it on the small dining table and pulled a chair and sat as he motioned to sit across me as well. 

“I just can’t forget how nice you were to me when I came here by mistake,” I remembered it clearly, arriving here and the strangeness his presence brought, together with him punching my wall. I barely did anything but it was nice to be validated even for once. “You somehow my saved my day,”

“I wasn’t expecting I’d see you again and when I saw you, you were crying after having that phone call,”

“Oh, that, yeah… “ 

“When I learned that it was your birthday, I couldn’t just let it go. So I went outside to look for some birthday cake and some strange reason, most of the stores are closed. I just thought of getting a cupcake from the café and bought all the fortune cookies left so that it would feel like you’re opening presents, but I hope these don’t contain horrid messages.”

“Wow, that’s some great effort,” It felt foreign to me. “Thank you,”

“No, it’s my way of saying thank you to you. For that night,” Despite of him telling me a few details about what occurred that day, I still find myself eager with the other events that conspired to stir up chaos in his life and certainly, there are many reasons why people tend to be grateful of the littlest things, even a company of a people and deem it as something tremendous, and apparently, one of those reasons could be; nothing good has happened to them for so long, or people have been extremely unkind or it might also be just a part of the spectrum of their personality and whatever reason, I found myself wondering why. 

“How’s your knuckle by the way?”

“My knuckle is perfectly fine, thanks to you I can smash the wall again,” He joked. 

“No, you better not,” I told him. “Once you break it, you might not have it as good as it was before,” A moment of silence sat between the two of us as we both stared at the plate with about a dozens of fortune cookies; I smiled upon the thought of him bringing those.

“Was your day alright?” He asked and I could feel the surroundings toning down after a couple of moments of laughing and I could feel my troubles reappearing once again. The thing about our troubles is that we can never fully run away from them no matter how much we sublimate and shape our perspective to view things differently. 

“Well, it wasn’t alright really…. To be honest,” I trailed off. “You know that kind of thing, wherein you feel as though it’s too dramatic, as if you are a soap opera character and it seems to be so… so unrealistic.” 

“If you experience it, then it is realistic.” He implied. I bit my lip and nodded agreeing upon the though even though I was quite conflicted about it. 

“That’s the thing, it’s real and I just wish that it’s not,”

 “I was harassed yesterday at work and today, he kind of screwed things up and I was blamed for it and I was humiliated for something I didn’t do,” I confessed as I noticed how worry trailed his face with his furrowed brows. 

“You worked as a substitute helper, as you’ve mentioned, right?” He checked. “Yes, as funny as it sounds.” 

“How did it happen? If you’re comfortable to tell… If you’re not, then it’s alright.” 

“I’d rather not talk about it,” I said although I can tell what happened to him. I just refused due to my fear of losing control. I took a deep breath and expelled it in the air while we both fell silent again but it didn't take long since he cleared his throat before he spoke. I looked at him, and I was still wondering by this minute of how different he was compared to the day I met him. 

"You have about one dozens of fortune cookies here," He said. "And I am not so sure if the messages contain crap," He managed to lighten the mood somehow, and I was quite grateful for that.

"But a little bit of crap is okay, don't you think? and oh, by the way, is there anything you'd like? I swear, I am not so hospitable at all." I expressed and pushed back the white modern bentwood chair and opened the fridge that didn't contain that much except for a pitcher of water, and some fresh milk. 

 "I'm good, but some coffee would be okay since I know you don't drink that much." It was funny how a stranger can remember tiny bits of information of someone but I didn't want him to expound what happened that night, since I know I messed up pretty badly due to my lack of experience in drinking alcohol.

"Oh great, I haven't gone to the grocery store yet and my fridge is empty. So I guess, I can still serve you coffee, If that's alright with you."

"Alright with me, “