[I looked at her smile from across the room. How I wish those smiles were meant for me.]
I find myself sitting in front of the laptop, trying to finish a story for someone. My mind was going nowhere, no ideas were coming through my head. I was losing it.
.
.
.
.
.
.
See those dots? I am definitely losing it. I haven’t written a story or something for the past few months. Like there was something amiss. Like a vital part of my mind that triggers my urge to write is gone. My inspiration. Gone.
I try to retrace how I first started. First it was for the fun of it. A hobby, so I could do something out of boredom. Then someone came along, opened my mind(and my heart?) to another part of me.
Then it spiraled down. Losing the grip that were my dreams. Losing hope. Waiting in vain. Life is indeed cruel and unfair. And to think the fact we have to live this kind of life everyday.
I tried to play Parokya Ni Edgar’s Sayang and Bamboo’s Masaya. There was still nothing. Before, whenever I play songs like these, I could make a story out of the songs. Now, I only hear the emptiness of my heart echoing in my ears like the sound of waves you hear inside an empty shell.
I opened the story file and scanned through it. It wasn’t worth the post. It never will be.
[Cathy couldn’t help herself but cry. She was losing someone she loved. She holds his hand tight while shouting to his beloved to live. She felt the hands slowly getting cold and her hopes beginning to fade.]
I could hear the waves and the soft sand in my feet.
[The cold metal begins to tempt me. Death calls for my name. She promises peace. A world where there are no more pain, anger and betrayal. ]
Its 5 minutes to 7 in the morning. Breakfast is being prepared. I try to make a life/love/inspirational text message to her. Making it look like a group message, even if it wasn’t. But I erased what I wrote and browsed my outbox. I picked one of those annoying funny quotes I get each day from a friend from Bacolod. I clicked forward and sent.
I wait, hoping for a reply. Fifteen minutes has passed she must still be asleep. I opened a .doc file listing my plan for the next 6 months. I still wonder if I can do it all. But nonetheless, I must, the future is uncertain a friend of mine once told. Or was it from the first Terminator movie.
[She looked pretty in her two-piece swimsuit. I try to humor her, singing Kjwan’s “One Look” as she walks towards me.]
My phone vibrates saying I got a message but it wasn’t from her.
[“Maybe we should end this,” the guy in the black jacket tells her girlfriend.
The girl jerks a tear and asked him. “Why?”
“I’m getting tired, we should. End this.” He says with a blunt face.]
I scanned our Med-Surg notes again. Just one major to go and we’ll be done. The rest of the week would just be signing for our clearance, paying my dues and the sembreak outings I will go to. Damn. Head is aching again.
[Are you an angel? Could you tell me why I find peace when I think of you? Why my heart beats differently when I'm with you? Some say these are just feelings I must ignore. Unnecessary feelings I cannot control. You are different. I could have easily forgotten the things I did, the feelings I felt. For you. I do not wish for you to be my girlfriend.
I want you to be my wife. I want you to be my future. My love.]
7:25a.m.
Calling you a friend seems to sound better I guess. I never thought I could feel something like this towards someone like you. But I have to set it aside. Knowing that going through could lead to my end.
---------------------------------------------------Shutting Down-------------------------------------------------------------
No comments:
Post a Comment