FIRST CUT IS THE DEEPEST

[Tinkered memories on  December 12, 2012]

Pardon my loss of better phrase but it all began in love at first sight.  Hey, it was agape love, excuse me, and it simply happened last night.

Nevertheless, I plead guilty to the charge that a big part of that chivalry was due to her charm and captivating beauty.  But the situation likewise called for it, so, surely, even the unsympathetic in you would find it hard to cease from showing sympathy.

I was already sitting pretty, or to be exact, resting handsomely, in the second to the last row of the last-trip bus last night.  Later, I saw a misty-eyed Venusian beauty, on her left shoulder a sleeping child, dragging a black suitcase I swear ‘twas Samsonite.

She stood still after getting in the idling bus and spread around her sight as there were a lot of passengers already at the aisle.  I was hoping in five seconds there would be a few good men to give up their seat for her and her child to make her smile.

However, I noticed that all seats were already occupied by females of all ages. When “Venus” inched her way to our direction I doubted because of my seatmates.  I was sure as heaven no way they would be boy scouts, for they were “positive,” judging from their red mouths.

Therefore, the next thing would be, what do you think really, I’m maybe old with a hurting knee, but I was born in love, in grace and mercy.  So there, behold, a remnant of valiant and courageous ones of the olden days, "cursed" himself as he stood up to give up his seat for the lady.

Who else, but me, and I bit my lower lip as I asked myself if I’d be ready. Knowing that for the next hour or two I would feel like standing at Calvary. With obvious relief in her reddened eyes focusing on the unseen bus floor, she slumped on the seat without acknowledging her knight in rusty armor. I was hurt a bit though not certain if it was due to her ungratefulness, or simply because my feeble knees started now to feel some numbness.  She quickly put on her lap the still sleeping, so cute little lad, and let out her cellphone to text as she occasionally sobbed.

While holding the hand rail and standing right beside her, I pretended to be drowsy and half-closing my eyes.  It was as if I wasn’t looking at whatever she was doing but definitely she was in high definition before my sight. I feasted my eyes on her countenance while she was trying to suppress another cry. I couldn’t believe that on such pretty face, a male heart would let those tears run dry.

That’s one of life’s scenes unbearable to me: Seeing up close and personal a tearful lady. I had almost told her, if she would have her way, I would never mind, just for comfort and nothing else, if she’d like to hug me.

I restrained myself and remained in the same position but my eyes darted off instinctively to her glittering cellphone. Pardon my intrusion but I couldn’t help but read clandestinely the messages she typed thereon: “1st time mo ni gnhimo pero indi ko gd bilog ma2lon dalum2 kg sakit2 gd para sa kon” (This is the first time you did but I can’t swallow in full, for me this is so deep and very painful).

I spent the rest of the time beholding such forty-something ethereal beauty despite the unkempt hair, crumpled cheeks and swollen eyes in melancholy. But the biggest surprise was, when I stopped the bus to get off finally, she held my arm briefly, smiled sadly, and with no actual words, her lips gently formed “thank you” for me.

I smiled back and nodded and walked away so fast. I was almost tempted to ask her, “Am I seeing your last?”

As my eyes followed the bus’ fading back lights, I told myself, if “Venus” could bear it and survive the night, she would surely bear and survive everything the rest of her life. I should know better, I should know best. Ask Old Rod, I’d been there, the first cut is the deepest.