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I think about her constantly, now. Over the summer, right as I get to the gate on the way to school, or when I pass by the biscuits aisle in the grocery.
When I pray before I sleep.
When boys ask to be my date to the prom.
I think about her. And her hair, dark and soft to touch. And her smile, sweeter than any cookie we have ever baked. And her eyes. If anyone ever asked me for proof of God’s existence, I would tell them to look at Gabbie’s eyes and see their reflection in the most beautiful of God’s creations.
But I don’t think she thinks about me. Not in the way I do about her. No, what occupies her mind is her family, or schoolwork. Sometimes, I wish she would look up every once in a while just so I can look her in the eye, just to catch a glimpse of heavenly temptation. It’s harder to look into them now ever since I grew taller and she didn’t.
“Sorry talaga, ah. Sorry. It’s not you, it’s me.” I say this a lot now. It’s easy to say this to the boys. I know deep in my heart that I already know what I want.
But it still hurt when the guy I rejected said, “Baka naman it’s her? Kayo na ba?” And there was an annoyed, arrogant smirk as he said it. That wasn’t what hurt, though.
What hurt was Gabbie laughing, almost indignantly, as if the thought of us being together was just utterly ridiculous, “Ako? Siya? Kami? H-Hindi, ah!”
Her cheeks were red as she fumbled with her lunchbox. I gave the guy his card and flowers back. I wish it was that easy for me to also hand over my feelings for Gabbie so that I didn’t have to feel so conflicted.
She asked me if I wanted to get back together with my ex. And there were two thoughts that warred in my head:
No. I want to dedicate my life to God.
No. I want us to be together. And I don’t mean just for prom.
Instead I say, “I’ll just go stag. You enjoyed it naman when you went stag, diba?”
I don’t know if I’m seeing things but she looked disappointed with my answer. See, Gabbie, it would be so much easier not to fall for you if you didn’t make it so hard. If you didn’t make me feel like there was a chance.
Minsan feeling ko gusto mo rin ako.
“I… Ikaw ba? Stag ka ba ulit sa prom or may date ka?” I ask, apprehensively. I wish she would say yes so I can move on from her.
It’s not Mia I’m worried about.
It’s her.
When she says she isn’t expecting anyone to ask her, I take her hand, a little too excitedly. Lord, she has such soft skin.
“And if I ask you to be my date?” I say. Hopefully, it came out jokingly but just in case… “So you don’t have to be alone.” And because I’m stupid, “And para tantanan na ko ng mga kaklase natin.”
With every word that came out of my mouth, the little smile on her face soured until finally, she yanked her hand away and muttered, “Ayoko.”
Lord, please take me now.
“Okay.” Is all I can say before I turn back to my lunch.
And I would have taken that as a sign from God that I should move on. But being the human that I am, of course I don’t.
I pray every day now for God to ease my mind. Was this a test? Was she what would stand between me and my calling?
I ask the sisters about what I should do. But the answers they give are the answers of people who have never had to watch her laugh, who don’t get to witness how adorable she was when she got mad, or see how beautiful she was even with her face caked in flour.
“We are all tempted by something before choosing God. Are you still sure you want to be a nun, Agnes?” They ask.
When Gabbie’s not here, the answer is easy. “Yes.”
Because… Well, because the sisters helped me during my darkest times over the summer. Spending that much time looking into myself and deepening my faith, I know that what I really want to do in life is to bring the same kind of comfort and warmth and safety that I felt here in the convent to people who need it most. To those who are lonely and feel like the whole world is against them. I want them to know what it feels like when they let God into their hearts.
So many things over the summer have made me doubt—in my parents, in Mia, in myself, and in my future, but never in God. There was always solace in conversing with Him in the silence of a church when there was no Mass. When it was just me and my prayers, it felt as if I was being enveloped in warmth.
But when I hold Gabbie’s face between my hands, sometimes I wonder if maybe this is God’s way of telling me that safety and warmth can also be found in a person.
In her.
Would kissing her meant I would no longer be welcome in heaven?
That’s what the sisters say. That what I am feeling is simply temptation and a sin. That my desire is the devil at work, trying to lure me away from the right path to God.
But how can I believe Gabbie is a work of the devil when there is such kindness and love in her eyes? Surely only God could create something so beautiful and pure.
Constantly, these are the thoughts that make me hesitate. That make me lean forward to kiss her, only to step back. And every time, I get frustrated with myself. Either for hesitating or for almost falling into temptation, I’m not sure.
The more I think about her, the more I start to doubt. And the more time I spend in the chapel asking for God’s guidance. Would it be so bad if I did not marry myself to God and instead pursued Gabbie? Would it be so bad that I want to hold her in my arms and never let her go?
I’m almost tempted to be selfish.
And then I see her running towards the altar, distressed and in tears.
“Gabbie?” I say, hand on her shoulder. She turns and without hesitation, buries herself in my arms.
“Wala na bang kayang magmahal ng totoo? “ She sobs, as she clings to me, and I feel her tears drench through my uniform. “Nagloloko si mama.”
“I’m here.” I say, taking off her foggy glasses so I can wipe her tears away, “Andito lang ako.”
And again, it feels like I am holding the world, delicate and precious, between my hands. How can the nuns tell me this is a sin when heaven stands beneath my chin and in my arms?
“Bakit ka ganyan?” She whispers, in front of God and all the saints, “Bakit parang minsan mahal mo ‘ko?”
Because I do. So much. So much it hurts. But like always, I keep my mouth shut. Maybe this is it. God’s final test. And this is the moment I have to decide.
But I see that heartbreak, that devastation on her beautiful face because of the effects of humanity falling to temptation and I think I’ve made up my mind.
She deserves more than me. She deserves someone who would not hesitate. She deserves someone who would choose to love her, fully and with nothing else standing between them. She deserves someone who would kiss her and not feel guilty about it.
“Mahal mo ba ako?” She asks. And I know right then that she feels the same way about me, so it hurts even more that this is the sacrifice I would have to make.
I have to remind myself.
There is something bigger than me and my desire here. If I choose to be selfish now, where would the other girls who love their best friends the way I love mine, who have no one else to turn to, find solace? If I say what I really feel now, I would leave those little girls to the mercy of other nuns or priests who would call the blessing of loving another person a sin. They would have no one who would understand them, no one who would listen and not judge them.
“Kasi ako, kahit na ilang beses ko sabihin na hindi… Na best friend lang kita. Mahal kita, eh.”
I can’t.
I can’t and it hurts and it’s a sacrifice that I would carry with me for the rest of my life but I know where my heart really lies.
Gabbie pushes me away, and all I can do is run after her, outside of that chapel, “Gabbie! Gabbie, sandali.”
And I wish I can make her understand. I wish I could say what I’m so scared to say. That I love her, tenderly, tragically, with all my heart.
“Gabbie, listen, it’s not like that.”
“I get it! Ayaw mo sakin, it’s fine, gets ko na!” She says, and her cheeks are red from embarrassment, her eyes watering once again. It hurts that I’m the one hurting her right now.
“It’s not like that, please listen to me.” I don’t know how to tell her this. That I love her too much, that I love her enough to admit I’m not the one for her.
“Then what, Agnes? ‘It’s not you, it’s me’, gano’n?”
It is me, Gabbie.
It’s all me.
“Pati ba naman ako gagamitan mo ng palusot na ‘yan?”
“Gabbie, hindi yun palusot—”
But she runs, and I don’t stop her. I hear her sobbing and I can’t comfort her. And never have I been more tempted than that moment to turn my back on the convent and my prayers.
But I know God has His plans for me. And they don’t involve Gabbie. And I have to be at peace with that, even if sometimes, I feel like it’s only in her arms that I truly feel God’s grace.
I tell myself that someone else would love her the way she deserves someday. The way I never could.