In The Right Time

By DANIKA THERESE IGMA

ART BY AMELIA FATIMA ALABAN

Seven years ago I met a girl. She was wearing a yellow sundress and her hair was in pigtails. I did not know how old she was, but judging from her smile and bright eyes, she looked about 13 years old. She was cute, and she was young. She told me her name was Love, and wants to play. So we did.

We played throughout the day, and every day since. We were inseparable. She was happy, and she made me happy. She let me experience things I had never experienced before. I was not familiar with that feeling, but it was what Love has made me feel. And during those times, I was contented. Nothing can ever take away my Love, no one.

Four years have passed and I noticed she was not wearing her favorite dress anymore. Her hair was hung in a pony tail, and the light on her eyes has dimmed its glow. I seldom see her smile. So I asked her what was wrong. She told me she was simply growing up, and I should too. We did not play games anymore.

There were days when we did not see each other. We became busy with our lives, but I know that Love was still there. We just needed to focus more on what was ahead. But honestly, I had no idea about what I would become without her. Tomorrow does not seem to exist if she was not there.

During the times we were together, I could tell she was not happy anymore. If I asked, all I get is “nothing” or a scream, or she would plainly ignore me.

Over time, I felt lonely. And I blamed Love for letting me feel that way.

Love has made me sad and hurt, and sometimes I thought of letting her go. Although I can clearly see that we were growing apart, I tried to make her happy again. I tried to make Love stay. So I gave her everything she wanted, and did everything she said. Even when those things frustrate me, I still did them, because Love told me to.

I have become her slave without realizing it, following anything that Love says. Love was cruel. Love was not kind.

One day when I finally got the courage to tell her how I felt, she just ignored me. She turned her back from me and started to walk away. Tears welled up in my eyes, and out of anger, I grabbed her wrist and dragged her with me. She was shouting and crying, but I did not care. I needed my Love. I had to have her.

I chained her up and locked her in. But then I noticed that where there should have been bruises on her wrist, there were on mine. The more that I tried to keep Love from going away, the more bruises appeared on my arm, and the more I got hurt. But I did not mind the pain. I wanted Love so badly, I did not care about the damage.

On her first days as my prisoner, she was mad at me. Always forcing me leave her alone. But eventually, we talked, and remembered how we were so happy years ago. Reminiscing our past, we both started to cry.

She said she was sorry and promised to treat me better.

From then on, our bond was stronger. I felt the same feeling from when I first met her. Difference is, only now, that feeling also came with doubt. I was once happy, and she took it away. What if it happens again? But I did not want to waste this time worrying. We tried to play like the little girls we once were.

She was already wearing her smile, and I could not help but do the same. And just as I smiled back, she fell. The smile on her face gone and the light from her eyes vanished. She crumbled to dust, and the wind swept away what was left of her.

What happened? I didn’t know. For on that day, Love died. Or so I thought...

For many nights I prayed for Love. I prayed to have her back. Day after day, I looked for her, yet she was nowhere to be found. I see her face in everyone I meet.

I wanted to see her so badly, I tried to force anyone to be like her. But sadly, Love was gone. But is she gone forever? I cried until my eyes were red, and I kept thinking where I went wrong. We were already starting to be happy again, but why would Love leave me?

Almost three years have gone by and I almost forgot Love. I kept myself busy with other things to do, and it made me feel okay. I was doing fine on my own, but then one day, someone tapped me on the shoulder.

I turned around and that was when I saw her. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She wore a white blouse with a matching white skirt, and her hair was gently flowing in the wind. Her smile warm, and a kind of familiarity in her eyes.

Like I already knew her.

Without hesitation I called, “Love”. She smiled again and nodded. I couldn’t have believed it, but in my heart I knew it was her. So I asked her how she came back to life after years of being gone. She just said, Love doesn’t die, but she already left before I even forced her to stay. I was holding on to a memory that I thought was still her. Turns out, I cannot put chains on Love.

And when I asked her why she looked different, she said Love is supposed to look this way. Love is supposed to be beautiful. When I met her years ago, many things have changed. I still couldn’t believe it, Love is here again. But is she here to stay? She didn’t answer, but what she told me was, I should not go looking for Love if she is gone.

In the right time, Love will come and find me.