Fleeting Moment

It might’ve not been the words but the way I said them, I’m not sure, but I know I’d hurt you.

You were doing your best to tease me and I thought I’d better say something witty to let you know that I knew your game. Well, that was the intention; I didn’t mean to hurt you the way I did. I’d thought you’d merely laugh it off then turn your attention to the girl next to me. That you reacted otherwise was unexpected.

I can still remember how you looked. The muscles in your face twitched, followed by the blinking of your eyes. Then, like a smoke slowly disappearing in air, your smile ever so slowly faded, so slowly that I saw it linger in your lips a few seconds after it had left your eyes. You let out a controlled sigh, the kind that carefully releases a heavy heart’s burden. Then, unceremoniously, you stared at me intensely. Damn! You had my defenses down!

I saw your lips move, but your voice was so soft I didn’t understand what you’d said. I’d thought you’d punish me, but you didn’t. You continued to talk in that calm, controlled voice as though you were trying to make me understand. But understand what? You? Oh, I didn’t really understand anything, but your intense gaze had me nodding my head.

I opened my mouth to say I was sorry but it was then that you released me. Someone was calling you, so you had to excuse yourself. I could’ve sighed of relief then. I did, but not quite. I felt disturbed. For in that fleeting moment, I thought I saw through you. I thought I saw a dark, deep-seated void in your being. I thought I saw a lost soul—needing, yearning to be cared for, craving for things peaceful and comforting. I thought I saw a heart, torn and wounded, yet still trying to beat, though staggering in its motion. I thought I saw your pride, bent in its humility. That moment, I felt as though I was given the gift of wisdom to understand the depth of humanity—the many joy and drama it represents.

Yet, more than that, I felt the guilt stab me. What’ve I done? How could’ve I hurt you like that? How could’ve I passed judgment upon your person when I didn’t even know you? when I didn’t really know what I was talking about?

In that fleeting moment, I felt for you. But then that was because you scared me. I thought I’d better fire the first bullet before anyone could ever hurt me. That’s right, defense mechanism.

That moment may just remain as such—brief. We may see each other again, but we may never recapture the magic (or whatever you’d call it) that transpired that moment. Because by then, the stars would’ve already moved to different positions; things would’ve already changed.

Or maybe we’d realize there’s really nothing to say. That what transpired was just a casual talk, like a comment about the weather.

But still, something remains: you deserve an apology and damn if I don’t offer you one.

I’m sorry.


JhannHyanni
May 2004