Archive for April 2012

Cause It's Hard Inside, Isn't That Enough?

Monday, April 16, 2012 Comments Off

I would be completely lying if I do not say I have had enough. I would be lying if I say I am not done. I would be lying if I admit to you that this void in my heart does not corrupt the whole part of my soul. I would be lying if I tell you I am not giving up. I would be lying if I tell you that my body is not slowly degrading away and succumbing into nothingness. I would be lying if I say I like being misunderstood. I would be lying if I say I like being alone all the time. I would be lying if I say I am

Can I laugh at the love songs some hypocrite teenage singers wrote? They all wrote about how this basically girl who no one ever notices--who is a geek and a nerd in every sensible terms available, who likes watching movies and cuddling up with her pillows more than being at some typical parties at some hip clubs, who finds delight in eating well-cooked medium well steak and mashed potatoes rather than goes on a diet, who finds happiness in reading some novels with absurd endings rather than gossip some nonsense, who still reads comic books from time to time, who listens to music like it is the best thing ever invented after books, who likes to get lost in the woods, who admits her pain-- could get someone eventually, though people do not like her but there will come this prince charming who sweep off her feet and will take her dancing under the moonlight.

I want to hear about those real girls who people do not care about. Who always end up sitting alone and eating alone at the cafeteria. Who are teased often by the society because they do not fit in. Who find strength in the darkest of times. Who could survive on being alone. Who is a solitary figure because nature forces them. Who finds beauty in simple little details like finding a bracelet in a Marie Antoinette fashion or getting a cup of warm tea. I want to hear about real girls who break down easily but pick themselves up without getting any help from anyone. I want to hear about girls who feel pain and agony simultaneously.

I want to feel. I want to feel. I want to feel.


Saturday, April 14, 2012 Comments Off

The way they commented them about their relationship was weird. It was absurd how some people, who claimed confidently that they knew them more than they knew themselves and each other, could just say anything they like according to their own point of views. It was unnerving, even to him. A guy who never gave a flying rat's arse to anything and mostly everything, except her.
She was the golden girl. The one people turned to when they were in trouble. The one that could manage everything, from teenage parties to prom night. The one with knowledge more than that of the smart girls. The one who was friend with everyone, except the ones who were obviously and completely jealous of her. The one who stole his heart and never gave it back. He never minded though. He gave it away willingly the night he noticed her dancing alone under the moonlight with tears like precious diamonds falling from her beautiful eyes with silver orbs.
They were in a party she threw, but for some reasons, she walked outside and chose to watch the sky instead. He was out because he wanted to smoke and breathe clear air. He noticed her. Swaying her hips lightly to the nonexistent music but all the same time crying because reasons he did not know yet. She looked vulnerable.

"Emma?" he called out.
She froze instantly. Her hips no longer swayed, it stayed still. She deliberately looked back and found a pair of black eyes looking at her like a pair of x-ray that could see the inside of her.
"Yes?" she called back.
"You don't know me, do you?" he asked, lighting up a cigarette.
She laughed bitterly. "How could I possibly ignore the greatest mystery our school ever had?"
He nodded. "What are you doing here?"
She quickly dropped something to the ground.
"What was that?" he asked, his tone was cruel.
"No-nothing. I didn't hear anything." she replied, rather too quick.
He nodded briefly but started walking towards her. She fidgeted the hem of her sleeves and avoided his gaze. When he finally reached her, he pushed her gently and searched for an object that she dropped. He finally saw the object because it reflected the shine of the moon. It was a razor. He picked it up and put it in front of her face.
"What is this?" he asked.
"Um... a razor?"
"What are you doing with a razor, Emma?" he asked softly and put the razor to his tuxedo.
"Well... I wasn't... it's not mine.., I mean..."
"Whose is it?"

She shrugged. Still avoiding his eyes.
He had enough and reached to her soft chin. He lifted the small facial part and stared deeply to her eyes, silver met black. "Answer me, love."
As his eyes bored into her, he could feel the telltale of hers to water. Her whole body shook and tears started to stream from her eyes. Her teeth started to grind with each other. She could not take it anymore, so she hugged him tight.
"Hush now, love. Tell me who hurt you.... hush now."
When her cry subsided, she began to tell her story. How she often cut herself in her thighs just to feel something. How the demons from her past constantly catch up with her and how she could not deal with it. How she was used to have people who were disappointed at her and she wanted to feel perfect. How she was the one people talk of but never talk with. How her friends wanted to be with her without  wanting to know her background. How nobody was ever brave enough to ask about her life.

They both ended up staying at the garden all night talking about their lives. Her eyes never left his, as his never left hers. She woke up in his arms, feeling his hand caressed her long silky hair between the fingers, for the first time in her life, she felt safe and cared for. They started to see each other. To seek warmth, safety and sense of something familiar. Being together with him was the most natural feeling in the whole world. She felt at home. He was home. Although he had his dark past, different type, but still altogether the same case of neglected teenage with lack of affection and constant criticism. He was the warmth and the source of attention that she needed. She was the anchor and the life he needed.


Sunday, April 8, 2012 Comments Off

"I love you." he said as he stroke the pale cheeks of her face. She looked very peaceful. Her red hair spread gracefully on the table. He kissed her button nose.
"I love you." he said again. This time a tear slid to his cheek and soon many tears followed. He clasped both of his hands to her unmoving ones. She was as cold as ice. The warmth she used to have was gone, replaced by the cold unyielding death. Replace by emptiness that soon filled her like water. He kneeled and sobbed.
"I should have..." he said in between tears.
Vaguely, a video was being played over and over again.

"Dear Leonard,
If you are reading this then you've survived the war and win. Then, I want to congratulate you for winning the war, thanks to your sacrifices and tactics, without you we couldn't have won this war; thank your for fighting with and for us. Thank you for thinking ahead, for being selfless, for being a loyal soldier.

Second, the reason you are watching this is because I'm gone. The reason behind it is because I love you, and I always will; even if it is such a hard concept for you, because being trapped in a loveless law-issued marriage--with Dakota's cousin nonetheless-- and being far from Dakota made you forget about the concept of love, but I want, need, you to know that I love you. That every fiber of this being always belongs to you, whether you want it or not, whether you like it or not, whether you notice it or not, I am yours. Though I know you couldn't say the same, this heart belongs to you, treat it well while I'm gone. Though I know I am not as perfect as Dakota, not as smart, not as brave, not even close to being pretty--red frizzy hair with an awkward body versus blonde hair with a body of a model? I think we both know who wins-- I need you to know that you are loved by me. I know you might, at some point of the time, think that nobody loves you and you fight for Dakota just for the sake of something to holding on and continue your life, but just remember that I'll always be there for you, not physically perhaps, but mentally. I'm yours; this soul belongs to you, treat it well.

Third, for the past few years, I know you always mourned for Dakota, I know she always occupies every single space in your heart and in your head... that is why I'm trading places with her. I don't know if The Master wanted someone like me to be his mistress, but I guess I'm giving it a shot, who knows if I get to be his mistress, I could make him move some place else; that is, if someone like him wants a damaged, bruised, bullied girl like me. I'm doing it because of you, you see. I don't need pity, but I just want you to know that everything that I do is because of my love for you. I want you to be happy, happier than you've ever been when you were with me, so I'm getting her home, at least if she's home then you have less things to worry about and could concentrate to win this war.

For some times in our marriage, I always thought that you could love me. I always thought that, if you spend your time with me, you could eventually fall in love with me. I should have known better... but I did you see, those hopes were just selfish thinking, but I couldn't help picture us, in an alternate universe, together happy with babies that have your blue eyes and my red hair; however, fate has another plan and I know you wouldn't, couldn't, love me. I know you would never love me because I know at night you called her name instead of mine, you cuddled mine but whispered hers in my ears and in the morning I saw your looks of disappointment when you found out I was the one you cuddled instead of her. It hurts. They hurt. A lot. Hurt more than insults I've had when I was young. I've never thought being a shadow of someone else could be this hurt. But it's all my fault. I shouldn't have... but no regrets, right? At least I get to be Mrs. Leonard, even though only in title.

I know you will not realize that I'm not there, but please remember me when you do. I'll be gone and will never come back. This morning is the last time we meet each other. I know this weekend you'll strike The Master. I just hope you could win. I know all the tactics. I know where you're going to bomb his building. And I know the chance of my survival is minimum. But, if you win, I know you are because I believe in you and this message could be opened only if you win, then my job is done. Knowing you are happy and safe, even if it means with Dakota, the one who... bullied me when I was a kid, then I'll be fine. I'm happy if you are safe, secure and happy.

I'm leaving now, Leonard. She'll be in your home by midnight. I've made... deals with The Master. He's pretty nice considering he's a leader of this dystopian country. She'll be back at your arms. Don't forget to tell her how much she means to you, don't forget to love her in ways you don't to me, don't forget to cherish her in ways I could only dream of and don't forget to be with her always.

I think... I won't survive the war. I'll be marked as a traitor, but I'm better off dead than seeing you with Dakota. I know I won't survive the war. I know I'll be dead, but I'm content with it. Thank your for giving me the best four years of my life and sorry I couldn't do this earlier. If I did then... you'll be...

I should leave now. I hope you win. I love you."


Tuesday, April 3, 2012 Comments Off

These are why the concept of living abroad is perfect:
They would love me as a tourist, the perfect stranger who doesn't speak their mother tongue and love them unconditionally because I do not know the truth about the country.
I'll work there just to get by, just as a job, not a profession.
I'll write stories, cry over sad novels, watch some comedy movies, eat healthily but eagerly, study foreign languages, paint some emotions, travel to another country, dance under the rain until I'm sick, watch the sunrise, plant flowers, drink botomless tea, dye my hair in absurd colour.
I will discover music, landscapes. I'll learn how to sew, to make dresses and sell them eventually. I'll learn how to cook and how to live. I'll visit Paris, eat the desserts, go to bookstores, sleep all day and go to Vienna at warm climates. I'll take pictures, frozen the memories in time. And when I'm old, I'll dedicate my life to a cause.
I don't think I'll get married, I'll be completely on my own. I'll cook for myself and do everything for myself. I'll watch relationships rise and fall, but never in one, I'll learn that maybe being alone not always equals to being lonely. I'll survive without having to worry about myself getting no love. I hope the love I got for myself is enough. I'll build a home.
I don't want to live in a life where people are always disappointed at me. I don't want another life where people have high expectations. I want to live a life with a new identity, a life where I don't know any pain or sadness, only content. I'll travel alone and be happy alone.
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