. . . . .
You’re like the literature I never
understand. A book that takes thousands of years for me to finish read but still
unable to grasp anything. If so you are to be put in a collection of poems, I shall
not be entertained by your metaphor and rhyme. If so you are a children’s fable
with drawings and such, your characters are inanimate with dead
personifications. If so you are a song, you are played monotonously and I shall
yawn of boredom.
Exhausted I am about to relate
your figurative words with history and the map of the world, I bear no burden
as I refuse to bear such person.
A person
like you is a literature I hate, a literature that tires me, a literature I never
can make.
Labels: expression, negative, past
Thursday, 15 November 2012 @ 15:22
“Will you marry me?”
I was dumbstruck. I couldn’t answer him immediately. I was very thankful for the roses he gave me and the kind words he showered me. I appreciated his every help to my every problem. To me, he was a good friend but, a husband? I cursed at my cowardice.
“No.”
“No?”
“No. I really have to go. I have a plane to catch,” It felt wrong for not saying sorry. Heck, any of my answers would sound wrong to him.
The problem for being single for too long is that you have coped with so much on your own. You have endured insecurity and pain, you have fought through sweat and blood with your weak arms and you wept for so many nights denying loneliness for independence. These have developed a demand for someone perfect though you know the impossibility of it. It got hard to just simply, give yourself up to someone. Today, I had been proposed to a new unfamiliar life, marriage, and to a new post, wife. A decent-looking young man whom I had met at the airport knelt before me asking me to surrender my past, present and future life to him. A strange stranger whom I secretly stared at while he was helping an old woman pushed her heavy luggage to the weighing machine. He, whom I hardly knew was the same person who spilt hot coffee on my new blazer and apologised endlessly as if he had committed a capital crime, was the one, who also said,
“Excuse me. That’s
my bag.”
Those six
words marked our first awkward meeting. Then, it was all waking up with yellow
roses in front of my door, an L sized jacket around my shivering shoulders, Good Morning, Love messages on my phone
and a few other blissful events. All of these within two years; it was admittedly
disturbing at first. I have to make sure that I didn’t step on the roses when I
go out jogging. I also have to make sure that I didn’t forget to reply the cute
text messages. Slowly, all of these grew on me quite oddly. Sometimes, they
suffocated me. Funny, every day I began to miss my alone days.
Eating alone
at the café watching people passed by while I sketched the different flowers I’ve
bought for myself from a nearby florist’s. Late night drives to McD Drive Thru
to satisfy my cravings for large fries and McFlurry. I hadn’t done that in a
while. I had abandoned drawing too. Now at the café, I would have someone
sitting opposite of me with a wide grin. I didn’t notice the weather nor the
people passing by anymore. I wondered whether that lanky guy and his dog still
wore matching suits. Those two had always been my good morning gag.
“Was it the way I proposed? Did I suck? Do you want me to serenade you and confess my love to a balcony?” My pace stopped. I turned around to him and saw his face darkened as he let out a long sigh. I could tell that he was disappointed but I wasn’t ready for such commitment.
“You’re mad. I get it.”
“What are you so afraid of?” I wasn’t really sure until I subconsciously said,
“You.”
We were put to a long silence. His hands ran through his hair and his eyes were tightly shut.
“Me.” He chuckled.
I hated it when he chuckle like that. I felt ridiculed every time he did it.
“And the way you bring roses to me every weekend, the way you order your coffee, the way you curse at the misspelt signs, the way you get all sweaty after your baseball match, the way you smile, you cry, you laugh, you just do a lot of things! You’re driving me nuts!”
I felt stupid for listing down his normal daily activities. It made me realised how involved he was with my life.
“Easy there.”
ATTENTION PASSENGERS FOR FLIGHT NUMBER AK5288 TO AMSTERDAM, WE ARE SORRY TO ANNOUNCE THAT THE FLIGHT WILL BE DELAYED IN THREE HOURS.
The announcement brought me to the former delay back in June 10th 2012, to the strong arms that carried the old woman’s luggage, to the kind eyes that looked at me while I was sick on the plane.
“Coffee?” He asked me softly. I needed that. I needed coffee and I certainly needed him.
“Coffee would be nice.”
Thursday, 8 November 2012 @ 08:56
I bumped into him on my way to class today. The sun shone so brightly that he looked as if he was sparkling under it. His messy hair, broad shoulders and dark eyes were like a set of Cartier in a glass box with lights focusing on it. Well, he always looks good. Be it under the sun or in the mud. Honestly, I love the days where I’ll run into him, dressing presumably nicely, and him in his pilot-ish uniform. I noticed that his cheeks are chubbier. I assumed he's eating well. So, that's good. I didn't realize that I was staring at him for quite a long time until he cast me a polite smile. That awkward smile, an acknowledgment of how we actually know each other, however not that close, only from a number of mutual friends.
Sayangnya.
I've always wanted to keep that very smile curves up on his face every day. Always I fantasize myself lulling him whenever unpleasant emotions overwhelm him. For he brings calmness in me. It was stormy before, but at the moment, he's like a soft wind blowing on my face. He does that to me, he always brings peace. And it’s inevitable not to imagine doing things with him, but of course, nothing psychotic or dirty. Maybe it is just us hanging out, almost no talking but silently enjoying the awaken sun after a long rain.
Sayangnya.
We never really have the chance to say “It’s nice meeting you”. Quickly, I just smiled back at him. A smile of I Wish You Every Happiness in which I believe didn't look anything like it. Then, we went separate ways. That was when my key chain broke off from the ring connected to my bag. It fell down and made a sharp sound as it touched the marble floor. I turned around to get my key chain The place that day was very quiet and almost vacant. There was nobody. He’s gone. Heh. Somebody sure walk fast.
Then I thought, Sayangnya.
He's not superior to me now. He doesn't cause my cheeks to go warm anymore. He doesn't cause my heart to go chaotic too. Somehow, though, I do admit that he will never be forgotten. Then I heard the lift went, “Second Floor, ding!” and I continued my pace to class. True, it was just a nice day.