Archive for February 2014

Midnight Music

Thursday, February 27, 2014 Comments Off

The year I lost you to a country halfway across the world was the year I had my first hypothetical heartbreak.

At the time, I did not realise that it was you. I did not take notice of the larger void that hid itself somewhere in my heart and in my head--I only knew the void that was caused by this certain TV series.

We lost each other in the same way, too.

They were friends, close one at that. They spent years with each other, running, laughing, and being best at what they did. But they had to move away from each other--they had to stay far apart. Fate told them to do so, like fate asked me to stay apart from you.

Unlike the mentioned TV series, our parting was less dramatic but more memorable--at first it did not cause me any pain, but as the years withered by and as the same darkening weather still instilled upon my heart, I grew weary and tired of having this feeling for you. This larger void does not hurt as much as my hypothetical heartbreak, but it lasts longer--it still hurts even mentioning about our days that we spent together. Our glorious days with midnight music, scary movies, fast foods and desserts.

I lost you.

My head is now half-filled with the scenarios of something that could have been. My favourite scenario: you love me with the same intensity as I love you and we are still together, worlds apart, but I'm still yours. Worlds apart and you are still mine. Worlds apart but our bonds are more forceful than the Sun's gravitational pull. Worlds apart but you still unconsciously carry my name in your daily prayer as you go to sleep. Worlds apart but you still remember to stay somewhat sober during your late night outs because you will Skype me in the dawn. Worlds apart and we are still together.

The other half is filled with the nightly remembrance of our time together. Times that I thought we were platonic. Times that I cherish with all my might. Times that you were platonically mine, and I yours.

Organic Shampoo

Wednesday, February 12, 2014 Comments Off

My friend told me that I subtly changed. "Odd," she said, after I sent her a picture of a pair of black Nike Cortez, "You were never one who wear such things. Why changed?"
I contemplated. I could answer, because I spotted so-and-so wore similar thing on her blog and I thought that I could pull that off too. But, she didn't deserve the lie. As one of my closest friends, she deserves the world and more, it wouldn't feel good, at least not morally so, if I lied to her. So, I simply answered, "No, it's just that there is a part of me that's changing, I can feel it. And I think I am changing."
She replied, "Like what you were wearing today?"
I haven't changed that moment, so I looked down at my black jeans and grey shirt attire, both were form-fitting. Oh, my shoes were another rare occurrence--black beaten-up converse. "Yes, I suppose. Yes. Quite similar. Yes."

I think I am changing. I can't explain it to you what exactly is being shaped into another matter entirely, but there are ticking sounds like clocks, something is changing their gears--something is moving. I feel calm, I can't explain how calm I feel right now and why do I all of the sudden eat food in less portion of I normally have. It is alarming how the way I live could be changed without any reasons or any affairs. Nothing happened, but I feel like something is trying to burst out of me and fighting to take over this vision of a person that my friends had known for years.

Maybe in all of those small steps (changing my drugstore brand shampoo to organic shampoo, using more natural products and buying certain article of clothing that don't bear the resemblance of what I used to wear/presented myself with during the past few years), I've found another spectrum of physical illusion that currently seems like the best go-to option for me. Ridiculous, I know--but it doesn't change the fact that I could move out of something that has been literally close to my skin, something that become what people have been voicing out as my style, that easily, even though a bit subtly.

Do you think I can change the way I feel about you the same way I change the way I look?


Friday, February 7, 2014 Comments Off

February. Get ink, shed tears.
Write of it, sob your heart out, sing,
While torrential slush that roars
Burns in the blackness of the spring
Boris Pasternak

It's February.
The month when I found you--yes, the only blossoming flower in the spring. Your heavy branches was calling me home--years, years ago.
The month when I bonded with you--something tighter than those of physical bonds. Spiritual bond, you once said, was much more stronger than anything, it surpassed any physical bonds--afterwards, I tried to cut my hair, the same hair that you adored, but the feelings were still there.
The month when I trusted you--falling asleep was one of the forms of trusting people, no? (It is harder to imagine someplace else to sleep)
The month when I lost you--too soon, my soul ached. My soul lost its counterpart far too soon. It hadn't even exchanging breaths. Too soon--too early, not enough.

Will it be the month that you come back to me?
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