*verdad

He knocked and hoped no one would answer.

He reeked of cheap perfume and waited outside her house on a rainy evening. He stared at the gate and wondered who has been here in his place, opening the gate for her, watching the flowers beside it grow. On his right hand, he held a bag that contained three jars of candy and a smaller bag of spice, as she had asked him to bring her some upon his arrival. His left formed a fist - his fingernails dug deep into his palm. He thought it would slow down his heartbeat. But his pulse only pounded even more as her mother opened the door and called out her name. He crossed the threshold where he was welcomed by her dogs that no longer knew who he was or what he was doing here. He has been away far too long.

While the television set was right where it used to be, and the blue dining table still stood against the blank, beige wall, this was a visit made under a different circumstance. While the furniture remained the same, everything else was not without change. There, in an unaltered state of being, was an eerie atmosphere that did not welcome his presence.

His knees trembled at the sound of her footsteps against the wooden staircase. He heard them too many times before. But tonight, as her dogs barked at the feet of a visiting stranger, her footsteps danced to a different beat. The thugs and thumps were slow and eternal. It was the beat he never wanted to hear.

She emerged from the footsteps and looked at him in a way he could not decipher. He dared not look back. He wore a woolen shirt to keep the cold outside. However warm it kept his outsides, his heart froze like ice age in summer. He perspired relentless, cold sweat.

He held up his right hand to break the distance between them. He handed over the candies and spice like it was a business transaction, except nothing was exchanged.

No distance was broken.

As he finally glanced when he was about to say goodbye, he saw her as he remembers her by his side. She wore her boy shorts the way she always did and pulled her tank top so that he could see the belly that he missed.

He crumbled at the distance they kept.

The deal was made, goods delivered. He imagined the look on her face as she blows and sips to ease the spice on her tongue. He hoped she liked the candy he brought.

She walked back upstairs, repeating the steps she made with the same beat.

He said goodbye to her mother and walked away. Out the door. Out the gate. Into the rain that mingled with his thoughts. He walked on.

He held no candy in his hands.