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Even on a hot summer day, I had to visit a museum for my subject. I had to feature an artifact and write a report about it. I like going to museums and I am interested in the artifacts that's why I took up anthropology in college, so, this kind of activity isn't a chore for me. I invited my friends to accompany me, but they did not like to go to the museum, so I had no choice but to go there alone.
As I entered the spacious museum, I was guided to join a group. We were led by a volunteer staff, based on his ID, where he was explaining everything about the artifacts. I was busy taking notes so sometimes I am left behind by the group. The volunteer seemed knowledgeable and conversed enough about the artifacts that's why I was really enjoying it. Not until we reached a certain artifact that made the volunteer staff silent for quite a moment. I tried to look at him, but I couldn't do so as the volunteer excused himself to go to the bathroom. So, I just shrugged off the awkward atmosphere after that and just went closer to the artifact.
I let my fingers trace the intricately engraved letters on the marble plate in front of the glass box. It was cold on my skin, but the message ignited a fire in my heart. History hates lovers . That made me more curious so I continued to read the description.
This is a story about two men who did not just defy the war, but also the norm.
That piqued my interest more so I looked at the artifacts inside the glass box. It was composed of letters written in Spanish and two old pictures of men: one is wearing an americana that looks like an ilustrado , and one is wearing a military uniform that looks like a gwardya sibil .
Shocked is an understatement when I saw the picture. My heart was beating fast and my knees were almost jelly. I felt a sense of familiarity and warmth. It was not just because the man in it looked exactly like me, but because it was like a memory was triggered in me.
“Señor, anong ginagawa mo rito? Hindi ba’t sabi ko ay huwag na tayong magkikita? Ikapapahamak mo ito.” [ Señor, what are you doing here? Didn’t I say that we shouldn’t meet anymore? This will be a danger for you. ]
I shook my head in protest at what he said. I know we can't meet anymore, but maybe this is the last time, so, I'll try to persuade him into my plan.
“Umalis na tayo sa lugar na ito. Ngayong nadakip si Jose, sinabihan kami ng punong-patnugot na magtago muna sa malayong lugar kung saan makakapagsulat pa rin kami nang hindi inaalala ang aming kaligtasan. Hindi ko kakayaning malayo ka sakin, kaya pakiusap, sumama ka na.” [ Let's leave this place. Now that Jose had been arrested, the editor-in-chief told us to hide first in a remote area where we could still write without worrying about our safety. I can’t bear to be away from you, so please, come with me. ]
His reaction, on the other hand, pierced my heart repeatedly. He gave me a pained look before kissing me on the forehead that lingered for quite some time. As I felt his kiss, the tears that I had been holding back began to fall. I've loved this man my entire life, and I'm afraid I have to let him go.
I first noticed him when, despite being a gwardya sibil , he defended us against his colleague who ridiculed us. I knew La Solidaridad members warned me to be cautious of them, especially to someone like him with Spanish blood, but I couldn't stop myself from getting to know him more. It was as if there was a magnetic pull in him that I could not avoid. I also noticed how he subtly protected me. When I leave early in the morning to go to our base, I find him waiting on a tree near our house. I was afraid at first since he may be a spy around me, but every time he walks a few meters away from me, I feel safe and secure since his warmth enveloped the cold dawn breeze. He would leave in silence when he sensed I was about to turn to the corner of our camp to protect our privacy. That became our norm, trailing behind my back to safeguard me. Until he decided to approach me.
I remembered him leading me to the back of the church, which later on became our secret meeting place. I didn't know why I felt happy then rather than terrified. I could see he was nervous as he told how he felt for me and how that changed when I replied we both felt the same way. The little chalet behind the church witnessed our growing romance. There, we are free to kiss each other, no eyes to condemn us, and we are no different from other lovers.
We are both aware that, apart from not being accepted by society because we are both men, our relationship is forbidden because he is a part of the organization I condemn in all of my writings. We can both be called traitors if anyone finds out but even so our love prevailed. So, for the last time, before letting him go, I gave him my all — body, heart, and soul.
I woke from my sleep when I heard a noise outside. I was nervous, so I woke him up and immediately told him so he could check it. When he turned to me there was so much concern on his face. A group of gwardya sibil is surrounding the chalet.
“Nandito na sila, kailangan mo nang umalis.” [ They are here, you need to leave. ]
Again, I just shook my head at what he said. “Hindi ako aalis nang hindi ka kasama.” [ I will not leave without you. ]
He stared at me intently, realizing my resolve was firm, so he just followed what I wanted. We carefully exited the chalet, but a gwardya sibil spotted us. So, we had no choice but to run. He held my hands tightly as we tried to escape from them. Not until they shoot us.
We almost fell at the same time when the bullet hit his leg, then another on his arm. He let go of my hands and told me to run alone. But as stubborn as I am, I just protested at what he wanted to happen. Even though he was weak, he hugged me tightly to shield me from all the bullets. Those hit him first before it pierced through me. There is no physical pain that will hurt more than that, yet I didn't give a damn. What matters most at this moment is that I will spend my last breath in the arms of the man I loved the most.
“Ikaw lang ang siyang inibig sa buhay kong ito.” [ You are the only one I loved in this life. ]
His final remark was the last thing I heard before we both closed our eyes. I thought that was the end of my life, but miraculously, I opened my eyes and he was the first thing I saw. He no longer hugged me tightly and it was no longer warm. The physical pain I should feel was overshadowed by the emotional pain. I didn’t wish to survive but I was rescued by my co-members.
I spent my healing time writing our story because I believe that it must not be forgotten. I had such a hard time that sometimes I didn’t want to continue it anymore. Nonetheless, I always found myself holding my quill and the paper that was stained with both the ink and my tears. My co-members looked at me sadly but they just let me express my grief and longing.
“Uy, ayos ka lang ba?” [ Hey, are you okay? ]
I didn't realize that tears had fallen from my eyes so I was surprised when someone handed me a handkerchief. It was from the volunteer staff that were guiding us a while ago. When I looked up to him, I was even more surprised because the man in front of me now looked exactly like the ilustrado in the picture. Even he was shocked to see me. He couldn't take his eyes off of me. It was so full of emotions that I felt that I fell into an abyss staring at it. I felt my heart beat faster again and for a moment that our hands slightly brushed when I took the handkerchief from him, there was some sort of shiver that ran down my spine. There is an unexplainable connection between us. But we were pulled from our reverie when he was called by another volunteer.
“Yangyang!”