One Night with a Stranger

-=Yesha's Point of View=-

"Are you breaking up with me?" I questioned.

After hearing what Brix had to say, my voice began to tremble.

His exact words were cool off, which is a gentler way of saying that we should break up, split, or anything else people use when they don't want to be with their partner.

After our conversation, he just left me here in this park alone, crying my heart out.

I didn't care about the sympathy and curious looks I was getting from those around me; they could gossip about my misery all they wanted!

Why should I care what they think or say when there is so much sorrow in my heart?

To be honest, I was expecting this breakup for a long time, and I know why Brix decided to end things with me: I couldn't surrender myself to him.

I can't bring myself to agree to have sex with him. I'm not sure why I can't give myself to him or my previous boyfriends.

I was anticipating him leaving me after being in a relationship for a long time, and I still couldn't find the determination to agree to his demand. 

Still, I was hoping that he would be different from the other guys, but I guess I was wrong.

I'm not sure how long I remained in that park, lamenting over my separation with Brix, but after calming down, I decided to leave and go straight home; there was nothing I could do; Brix wasn't going to come back and repent for what he just said.

When I got home, I tried to focus on other things so I wouldn't think about Brix, but no matter what I did, I found myself spacing out and thinking about my failed relationship.

At this point, we've been dating for over a year. We were set to celebrate our first anniversary as a couple in June, but he dumped me just weeks before it was meant to happen.

"God! HELP! I don't know what I should do." I cried in a loud voice.

"Shut your pie hole!" Someone yelled from the first floor of our house.

Oh, that is my mom, by the way.

By the way, my name is Ayesha Santillan, but my friends and colleagues call me Yesha.

I am half-Filipina, half-British, and 22 years old, so I appear slightly different from a typical Filipina.

I have brown hair that is an inch longer than my shoulders and hazel brown eyes with long eyelashes, which some say are my most attractive feature. I have a straight nose, which gives me the appearance of being snobbish, and kissable red lips that don't need lipstick.

I'm 5'7 tall, and people kept telling me that I could be a model or a beauty queen if I wanted to, but that's not how I roll.

I'm merely a simple, innocent girl from the Philippines who dislikes being in the spotlight.

Forget about my father if you're going to ask of me; I haven't seen or heard from him.

The bastard, according to my mother, quickly returned to his country after getting my mom pregnant, neglecting all his responsibilities.

The jerk abandoned his child in the care of a poor and helpless woman, allowing her to endure the full weight of the responsibilities that both of them should be carrying. 

Fortunately, my mother is a fighter and was able to raise me on her own.

I'm still a virgin at 22 years old, having been in four... no, five failed relationships since Brix broke up with me for the same reason.

I'm not ready to have sex with them, or perhaps the reason why, because of what happened to my mother, and I don't want to go through what she went through being a single mom.

I don't want to get pregnant out of wedlock and raise a child without a spouse on whom I can rely.

I know what it's like to grow up without a father, and I don't want my future child to go through what I went through.

My mom hasn't entertained any suitors and has just focused on me since I was born; even though I remember several men trying to charm her, I believe she was still waiting for my biological father to return as if it was going to happen.

To return to my problem, I still believe that a relationship may work even if there is no sex, but I guess I was mistaken because all of my boyfriends wanted to have that kind of interaction.

I suppose all guys are like that, and the only guys who don't want to have sex with their girlfriends are usually closeted gays who got into a relationship with a girl to conceal their true identity.

"Shit! I muttered quietly after failing terribly at not thinking about Brix.

So, instead of staying home and wallowing in self-pity around, I went to see my best friend Julia and asked if she'd want to go to the mall with me.

Julia and I have been friends since elementary school, and she is well-versed in the melancholy details of my life, from my loutish father to my failed romantic relationships.

In our second year of high school, when we were attending a public school close to our home, I realized our friendship would never be broken.

"Juls, I have something to tell you," I stated solemnly, as she was busy looking for cute guys.

"What do you want, Yesha? Can't you see I'm busy?" She asked, irritably without even looking at me.

I resolved to tell her the truth straight away to prevent me from backing out.

"Mark is hitting on me!" I hastily stated.

Her current boyfriend is Mark, the star player on the school's basketball team.

I finally caught her attention as she stared at me, bewilderment written all over her beautiful face.

I was contemplating whether or not to tell her about it, but I didn't want her to be in the dark, knowing full well that it wasn't only me who Mark tried to hit on, but there were other girls.

I had no idea how she would react. Will she be upset with me? Will she assume I'm just trying to separate them?

But before I could find out, she was already walking away; I assumed she was angry with me, only to discover she was walking toward Mark, who was walking in the opposite direction.

"Jul..." 

Mark couldn't finish his remark as Julia slapped her hard, and before he could react, Julia ended her relationship with Mark.

When she returned, I was dumbfounded, and I didn't know what to say or how to react to what had unfolded.

Her face was flushed from the outrage she was feeling, but she managed to grin at me when she finally looked at me.

"Are you ok?" I asked in a worried tone.

"Of course! Why wouldn't I be? And thank you, Yesha, for being honest with me; I had noticed how he glanced at you when he thought I wasn't looking, and your confession confirmed my suspicion," she responded.

"Are you not upset with me because I ruined your relationship?" I asked, still a little skeptical.

"Oh, please! You didn't do anything wrong, so don't feel bad or worried about it, and you're actually helping me because I like someone else." in a humorous tone, she said.

And our friendship has grown stronger since then; we're no longer just best friends, but more like sisters from different mothers.

Let's go back to the source of my most recent pain.

I took a quick shower first, then rode my motorcycle to Julia's house after getting permission from my mother.

I'm still paying for this motorcycle; my mother was initially opposed to me having one since she felt it was inappropriate for a lady like me to ride such a vehicle. Nonetheless, I was eventually able to persuade her.

We live in a modern era where traditional norms do not bind women, and it is also more convenient to travel by motorcycle, especially when I need to get to work.

I'd been driving for ten minutes before arriving at Julia's house, which wasn't that far from home.

"Julia!" I yelled as I continued to pound on their front door.

After a few moments, the door finally opened, revealing Julia's father, uncle Gerry.

Because Julia and I are close, I opted to refer to his father as uncle Gerry, which he agreed to.

"Hello there, Uncle Gerry. Is Julia at home?" I asked, even though I was already aware that his daughter was at home.

"Yesha, good afternoon. Julia is upstairs, so go right ahead," he explained, and after letting me in, he returned to his favorite couch to read his newspaper.

After I thanked him, I went straight to Julia's room, which, as is characteristic of Julia, was a complete mess, as if the person occupying this room wasn't a girl at all.