Unstoppable...

What's that word?

Flexible...?

She felt flexible... happy she survived the first part of her new journey... 'I could get used to this.' she told herself as she took off the wrapper of her favorite candy.

"You seem normal..." someone commented from behind her. The ever so familiar voice, Jersey. "Oh, ok... mental damage?"

She turned around, her hair flowing freely with her. She glared, but not too long because his eyes were crying for sense- pleading with all their might.

"This is my life." she answered shortly. "Hands off."

She knew he was worried and concerned, but she's unstoppable that way. If he hated her stubborn behavior, he would've left much earlier. Love probably?

"You won't survive."

"How'd you know? You're not me... And you haven't known me for too long."

Maybe... Just maybe... If he spoke a little more liberally, she'd get his message?

"I just love you... I just want to be the one to take care of you... Even if I wage war with Cameron... I want to win you over yourself..."

Someday... maybe, he'll be able to do that. Someday...

"Someday... You'll win eventually..."

 "Say...

"If...

"In case..."

"In case what?" Henry finally asked, a tiny bit of irritation etched in his face. "Cam?"

"In case, I was sick, would you leave me?"

He thought hard. He knew what she meant- deserting her for good. He wanted to say 'no', but that would be too plain and... lame. If he said something else, her worried and hysterical mind might interpret it the wrong way. Well, it doesn't hurt to explain.

"It will depend on the situation. You know I still have to buy you medicine and foods." he answered, keeping a close watch on her reaction. "If you're too sick, I certainly won't take you with me to the drug store or grocery."

She didn't say anything. Her face didn't show anything. Her body didn't deliver anything.

"Will that count as leaving you?" he asked with genuine curiousity.

"No..."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"If I did something very wrong, would you leave me?"

"What kind of wrong?"

"Like murder wrong..."

"Is murder forgiveable?"

"...no."

"No... I won't leave you."

"Why?"

"Hmm... I'm sure your family won't forgive you. If they don't, then who's going to be with you? I will, of course."

 "Hi..."

"Hey..."

"Practice?"

"One word conversation?"

"That's the biggest I could afford."

"What, would I explode if you say too much?"

"Something like that."

"Fine..."

"..."

"I love you..."

"Is this a phrasing game now?"

"You can say that..."

"Okay, I love you too."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She skipped... skipped with her heart.

"You said you like me..."

She stayed quiet... quiet as her mind decided she has no say in this...

"I believed you but you can't believe me..."

She stuttered... stuttered the way he did before...

"I... it was... I don't..."

"What?"

"... Sorry, your love is late..."

 I love coffee. I love how bitter or sweet it can taste. I love the aroma wafting in the whole enclosed area of my room. I love the dark color being a cut between black and transparent. I love coffee.

As I stared at my third cup, I can't help but think. He was the exact definition I'd give to coffee. He can be bitter with his smart retorts when I do something bad or he just plainly wanted to piss me off. He can be sweet when I feel tired or down right dead with his arms around me and his voice reaching my ears consisting of comforting or funny incoherent words. He can stay beside me even though not physically just by spraying his favorite cologne around the room before he left. He can be a big block of hard, never understandable expressions when he doesn't want to worry me. He can be the most transparent person when he's ready to fall but only wanted me to catch him.

He's my coffee.

 As unfair as it sounded, she had to share him. To make things worse, she had to share him to not just one, but a million girls. He's standing on a pedestal, looked up to, adored by many. He's world famous. Even after two years, she still couldn't point out the reason why he chose her over a more beautiful, as famous as he was, girl.

"I'm not insecure, I'm just wondering." she muttered under her breath the one night they decided to discuss her feelings. "I'm not doubting you either, just in case you're thinking that too."

"Then why are you saying those things?" he asked, pulling her closer with his long arms. "Surely, something else is bothering you."

"I have to admit, its unfair you have to actually belong to the public first... before me."

"I don't belong to the public, Cam." he said that as if she was already done with her sanity. But all the same, he tightened his hold on her to prove his words. "I belong only to you. No one else."

I hope so...

He promised, with the dreadful crossing of the heart, he promised. So she didn't mind. Even when he started losing time for her, she didn't mind. When his calls degraded from five times a day to mere text messages, she started thinking. But when she felt his butterfly kisses one tearful night that the bed was empty, she once again let things slide. Until the day came, she found a letter beside her head.

Sorry... I love you so much... but if I keep this up, I'll just keep on hurting you... Sorry...

Since then, she's started hating his mere hand writing, but kept staring at the lone letter, anyway. She started hating the three dots that consumed most of his paper, but kept staring at it, anyway. She started hating him generally, but kept remembering and memorizing his face, anyway.

I still love him...

Altogether, just to survive, she started hating everything. From the things that remind her of 'that guy' to the things that she hasn't even seen before. She forced herself to work mechanically, not much needing her heart to function, just her brain. She chose the hard things instead of the ready-to-go things just to get her mind off relaxation and extra time. Her life became monotonous and useless. Her soul was nothing more than an ugly blob of hopeless mush.

This is better than falling in love, I guess...

"What are you listening to?"

"Music..."

"uh... Duh?"

"You won't like it..."

"But I still asked..."

"... You shouldn't have..."

"At least have the decency to answer me politely... Besides, you're younger than me..."

"By a year..."

"I'm your boy friend..."

"So? We never really had the same taste in music..."

"... What have you been eating? You sound like an ass..."

"Asses don't talk... They're animals..."

"..."

"Sorry, I just realized how different we are compared to each other..."

"But that's not really an issue unless you make it..."

"Shouldn't have..."

"You didn't..."

"Sorry..."

"I love you..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How the heck did you end up with a mug of coffee?"

"I made it... I took the mug inside the cupboard in your kitchen..."

"I especially hid that and the coffee maker so you don't get your DANGEROUS doze..."

"..."

"What?"

"You don't need a coffee maker to make coffee... And you should stop with the hiding... You suck at it..."

"..."

"Seriously..."

"I hate you..."

"How could you... You're the guy, not me..."

"So? What's that got to do with everything?"

"You should do as the girl says?"

"Where the heck did you get that now?"

"... From you... You told me you'd do everything I say 'cause I'm the girl... you know, queen treatment..."

"..."

"You don't really remember, do you?"

"You know how I hate eating my own words, right?"

"Huh?"

"Where did we start?"

"... Coffee?"

"Yeah, right... From now on, you can have whatever you want except for the coffee..."

"Why?"

"Because I love you and I don't want to break up with you just because you bit my head off with your coffee induced logic..."

"..."

"What? Hey..."

"But I'm in love with coffee..."

"More than me?"

"... Yeah?"

"LET'S BREAK UP THEN!!!"

"You are such a girl... I'm just kidding..."

"Don't do that again... I'll kill myself..."

"Sure..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where's the newspaper?"

"You're looking for the newspaper at night?"

"Why not? There are evening newspapers..."

"Next time, talk in a language I'd understand even without second telling, okay?"

"Sure..."

"..."

"..."

"There aren't any evening newspaper here..."

"You should've said so MUCH earlier..."

"I hate alien talk..."

"Maybe you're the alien... and you don't understand human language..."

"... Do you want me to buy you the damn thing?"

"No thanks... I'll do it myself..."

As unfair as it sounded, she had to share him. To make things worse, she had to share him to not just one, but a million girls. He's standing on a pedestal, looked up to, adored by many. He's world famous. Even after two years, she still couldn't point out the reason why he chose her over a more beautiful, as famous as he was, girl.

"I'm not insecure, I'm just wondering." she muttered under her breath the one night they decided to discuss her feelings. "I'm not doubting you either, just in case you're thinking that too."

"Then why are you saying those things?" he asked, pulling her closer with his long arms. "Surely, something else is bothering you."

"I have to admit, its unfair you have to actually belong to the public first... before me."

"I don't belong to the public, Cam." he said that as if I was already done with my sanity. But all the same, he tightened his hold on me to prove his words. "I belong only to you. No one else."

I hope so...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He promised, with the dreadful crossing of the heart, he promised. So she didn't mind. Even when he started losing time for her, she didn't mind. When his calls degraded from five times a day to mere text messages, she started thinking. But when she felt his butterfly kisses one tearful night that the bed was empty, she once again let things slide. Until the day came, she found a letter beside her head.

Sorry... I love you so much... but if I keep this up, I'll just keep on hurting you... Sorry...

Since then, she's started hating his mere hand writing, but kept staring at the lone letter, anyway. She started hating the three dots that consumed most of his paper, but kept staring at it, anyway. She started hating him generally, but kept remembering and memorizing his face, anyway.

I still love him...

Altogether, just to survive, she started hating everything. From the things that remind her of 'that guy' to the things that she hasn't even seen before. She forced herself to work mechanically, not much needing her heart to function, just her brain. She chose the hard things instead of the ready-to-go things just to get her mind off relaxation and extra time. Her life became monotonous and useless. Her soul was nothing more than an ugly blob of hopeless mush.

This is better than falling in love, I guess...

 I looked up and, as expected, I saw her standing right in front of me. I knew she was going to say something heartbreaking and true, and she was going to say it in a calm, almost pleading way. I should've ran away. I should've hidden myself, or better yet, shouldn't have come out at all. And it was too late, 'cause I couldn't move my legs anymore.

"Yves." she called my name, and there it was. My name, as it came out of her mouth, was covered in hopelessness and prayer for understanding. "Hi..."

I tried to do something. I tried to salvage something of importance that could repel her words. Because, really, when I heard my name, I can already see the most beautifully bloomed love and relationship fly to the trash bin. I knew he'll hate me for not fighting at least a little bit for whatever happiness we could get from each other, and I don't want him to hate me. But, as it turned out, I already knew what she's going to do and say. I gave up right then.

She sat in front of me, making sure to keep a good distance from me just so we won't get cross eyed trying to look each other in the eye for the sake of honesty. I held, too tightly, the handkerchief that he gave me, as if it would save what remains in my life and sanity.

"He thinks you're Clare Abshire* and he hates that." she finally started. "But he's too scared of losing you."

Clare Abshire... She was the girl who waited patiently for her husband every time he time travels. She was the girl who didn't mind not having him beside her as long as she knew he loved her to death. How did I come to be related to her?

"He's always busy, he has to deny your relationship, he's world famous, he always leaves you behind."

Why was she doing this again? Because she wanted me to push him away. Because when I finally push him away, she'll be right behind to catch him...

Then she'll be Clare Abshire? She didn't really mind...

But then again... I don't mind either...

"So?" I answered, relieved that I could still talk outside my brain. "I'm the one he goes back to at the end of the night. That's enough for me."

Her lips pursed in a horrible way. She's angry beyond angry. She even looked like she's going to hit me with something. She's too angry to tear her eyes off of mine. But I was too proud and confident, too driven by love, to actually care.

"I'm giving you a chance to a normal life."

"My life right now must be better than the normal you're offering me. You're doing your best to take it away from me."

Through all this, I thought if being a fighter was actually good. I wanted what I think I deserve to have, so I fight for it. But does it look good at all? Do I look like an insensitive brat? She looked totally bratty to me. And I'm doing the same thing she's doing right now, trying to ruin whoever comes in the way just for something so devilishly good- love. Are we one and the same then?

I never expected what she did next, but I was thankful because it woke me up- to the reality that I have to defend my spot harder than before, never mind the fact that I could ruin what little dignity I have. She stood up, grabbing the bottle of water beside me in the process, and splashed it all over my head, face and clothes. Within seconds, I was soaked.

I came home that night to see him lounging on my living room with my dad. They were watching his movie, the very first one I came to hate because it took him away from me. He looked at me, a sweet and cute greeting sitting at the end of his tongue. But whatever it was he was supposed to say left him the moment my condition sank in through his mind.

"Is it raining, dear?" my dad asked, grabbing the afghan cloak behind the sofa and covering me with it. "You're soaked."

"No, this just comes with the prize of fighting..."

"Fighting? You had a fight with someone?"

"Yeah... And there's going to be more of this... and worse..."

I don't care...

=======================================================

Clare Abshire is one of the main characters in 'the time traveler's wife'...

 After months of disappearance, she thought he'd at least have the shame to say sorry. But when she saw him sitting on HER sofa, remote control in hand, she didn't even hear any kind of apology. He was just there, like they were still on normal mode and nothing happened at all.

But really, a lot of things happened. A lot of unforgivable things came up. She got hurt, broken, almost on the brink of insanity. She tried to move on, sticking to the fact that people really just come and go like that, and that she was lucky enough that it wasn't death. And when she thought she's finally moved on, he comes back to torment her again.

"What are you doing here?" was her short, almost flaming question.

"I live here, don't I?" he answered indifferently, smiling up at her from his spot in front of the TV. "I live here with you."

"Not anymore."

There came, for a long time, a silence that was enough for her to say she was fine and she won't jump at the dreamland of him coming back to her. Because she's finally over him, she could live without him now.

"Are you still angry about what happened?"

"Still? Of course... You sound as if you've done something..."

"Can't we just forget everything?"

"Sure, let's forget everything. You may leave now too."

He didn't say nor do anything. He just walked, chin up, to her. His eyes, how lovely was the feeling of hate towards those eyes- instead of the oh so normal love she held.

"You don't love me anymore..."

It wasn't a question, he sounded certain of it too.

"Feelings disappear after a long time, remember that."

------------------------------------------------------------

This kind of happened when I met my dad for the first time. He asked rather shamelessly if mom's already found another. When I said no, he asked where she was and if he could get back with her. He talked to me about it as if his new family wasn't right in front of us... As if I'm not affected by everything that's happened. His reason: he's not the one who left, it was us... But I'm not really sure about that since I was still too young then too remember. Screw him and our blood... he cheated on my mom... he deserves to be deserted...

He was dead scared, more scared than really (literally) dying. He'll be on stage after his best friend and he couldn't help but hyperventilate. Maybe this was actually a wrong idea. Maybe he should've followed his instinct to come back home and stay normal when he heard the first bout of screaming fangirls against him. They hated him after all, so why bother making stupid debuts.

"You think too much, you know?"

It was the girl from the other class, from his school, back in Canada. She's been with him through all this and he didn't know any other, better, way to thank her but smile. She rejected his first attempt at a sweet 'thank you' saying he deserved it and that she's just helping a schoolmate. He also tried asking her out to a friendly date, but she said he didn't have to. So, instead, he just resorted to thinking she really just possesses a great heart of gold.

"You'll forget the lyrics if you're not careful."

No, actually, the moment she came into his line of view, he's already forgotten the whole stage thing. She was, just like him, going to debut (more like going to be chucked out to a sea of ravage idol fans) that night. And for the VERY (he wasn't really sure, his dreams count on this but his doubts are clouding him) special occasion, she was wearing herself as the most beautiful. Of course, just like the moments his eyes rounded to big saucers and accidentally blurted out how gorgeous she was, she wouldn't believe a thing that comes out of his mouth.

"Black fits you."

"Ugh... Stop it, I don't even like the shape."

Excuses, he thought. She probably was trying to block praises so she won't grow fond of them and evolve into someone else. Unlike other people who let every single word get into their brains.

"Anyway, you should stop thinking TOO MUCH... don't fry your brain cells just because you're bored or something, you'll need them in the future."

She giggled, he fell. Somewhere around the corner of his brain, where there still were properly working brain cells, he heard a million cheers and screams. But it was too far away from him for his arm's reach.

"HENRY! HENRY! HENRY!!!"

The audience went crazy waiting for him, the most controversial and scandalized, to come out. With her right in front of him, he's not anymore as sure of his hearing as of his mere existance.

"Hey, they're waiting for you."

She talked as if it was one of the greatest things in the world. She smiled like everything will be fine after his performance. Pulling himself together, he reached out for his violin and decided to avoid looking even on her general way. It wouldn't help.

"Break a leg! I'm sure they'll like you... SO MUCH!!!"

Of course they did. Everything she says comes true and everything she does catches him off guard. The moment he left the protective confines of the red curtain, the cheers became more evident in his ears and his pulsating adrenaline soon joined in. His performance was the blast of the night, much to his (and her) over excitement. They loved him, every single person that made up the fifty thousand of the audience. He never heard the protests, the boos and the jeers. He was loved.

"You see!? I told you they'll go insane on you!"

Maybe, just maybe, he was running along with his new fans' insanity. Because he thought running to her and crushing their lips together was never one of the plans he and his friends had for celebration of success. But he couldn't help it, he doesn't even know when he fell so hard, like head over hills.

She pulled away. He was trained, raised well by common sensed parents, to expect a disapproval when he did something wrong. But the smile on her face, it never spelled 'jerk' at all. Or was it just him?

"Well, there goes my congratulations."