Using My Girlfriend as a Sleeping Aide
Quick story about that time we went to a concert
Thump thump thump. Giants knocked from the inside of my chest.
What did I eat for lunch today? That’s right, nothing. Dinner? Instant noodles with hard-boiled egg? No, that was yesterday. I bought a 30-peso burger from Angel’s. Also, a Mountain Dew.
I had just finished an exam where I placed at the bottom half of the class. Two weeks’ worth of dirty clothes wasted away in the laundry bag. My allowance held on for dear life. A bunch of deadlines terrorized my peace of mind. The water in my dorm was yellow and stank of rust. Sore throat, again. Muddy shoes, broken clock, missing I.D., missing ATM card, cracked phone screen, what else? Oh, I haven’t slept for three days.
It’s always a bunch of small inconveniences that build up a humongous wave of suffering ready to collapse on my head at any moment. I felt like a small kid staring at its face, frozen and pissing my shorts. Then I realized I was 19, set on a date with my girlfriend tomorrow. After a few more hours of tossing and turning in my bed, it was morning.
We sat on the bleachers with the rest of the sweaty people waiting for the local bands to play. Patricia rest her left hand in my back and rubbed it up and down slowly, then faster, and then slowly again. I nearly cried, but I didn’t. There were people that would’ve judged me. Fuck those people, they didn’t deserve my manly tears.
In front of us was this foreign couple — a tall caucasian male and a tall caucasian female. Around a bunch of Filipinos, they stood out like tulips growing on a rice farm. While Patricia went to the bathroom, I watched them carefully. And no, not in a racist way. More like in a Filipino judging different races way.
They watched Banda ni Angelo play their mediocre songs and covers. What the hell were they even doing here, I asked myself. The white guy glanced back — eyes scanning me up and down — and whispered something to his girlfriend. They giggled like little kids. I decided to not look at them anymore.
A few hours later, we went out for fresh air. We found a nice little spot under a street lamp in the local park. I remember sitting in silence with Patricia, watching carefree kids run around the grass, couples sneaking kisses in the shadows, older people doing old people things, younger people being young. I wished we stayed there a bit longer.
But then it was time to go back. The main band had started playing. We stood with the crowd in front of the stage. I put my arms around Patricia and closed my eyes and felt the beat, the notes, the chords, the tunes. I tried to locate the anxious thumping of my heart but I couldn’t hear it. Good. I remember being in awe of the rays of lights coming from the stage, and it almost put me in a trance like moths drawn to the flame. My girlfriend and I stood there with our heads slightly tilted up, our feet tapping to the music, almost slow dancing, and whispering sweet phrases to each other’s ears.
Then it was over. I was suddenly on the bus back to my dorm. When I arrived, I dived face-first into my bed, closed my eyes, and listened to…
Nothing.
It was time to sleep.
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