What do you mean he’s gone? I just saw him. I spoke to him. A few minutes ago. I clenched my hand to my heart, worried. I could feel the air getting colder. They say the weather tonight is going to be rough and here I am, standing at my balcony, overlook the seas. I could see the wave kissing the shore, no matter how many times it has been sent away. I pulled my knitted cardigan tighter to me. I can’t lose him. Not now.
This tower has been my home for years. People come but they go too. Leaving me all alone, always. I am always alone here. I have a mirror I could talk to every now and then but that is just it. The mirror, although responsive, is not human. It may act like one but by the end of the day, it is not real. But he is. He is real.
I remember the first time I saw him. He was just blending in, like all the other people who visited me in my tower, who lingers around. His eyes was fixed to a flower, determine to have it. I watched him as he failed a few times but he wouldn’t give up. But then I saw him bled. I was concern but I didn’t show it. I never show it. He didn’t notice that I noticed. Though I blamed the flower.
He is always in his small little world. His comfort zone. But sometimes I envy him. He gets to stay in that comfort zone and gets hurt little than I did. I saw a whole world out there, even though I’m still trapped in this tower, but I have the advantage of seeing a wider view from up here. But he seems happier.
One of the day that I remember was when he approached me personally, asking me if I’m bored, being here alone. I said I am, or was, because then afterwards, he came by every day, bringing me games and activities for me to do, to play with. I’m not sure if it’s me pulling him out of his comfort zone or if it’s him who brings me into his but we are in between whenever we are together.
Slowly, I began to get warm with his presence that long before I realized, I always wait for him to come back. He’s not confident, he makes awkward moves sometime but I always notice the way he speaks, the gruff voice that makes me smile unwillingly and that impossible-to-understand words that he always choose when we play our game, the way his eyes would stare innocently sometimes when he is deep in thought, the way when other people came and tease him and he would try to avoid it. Oh, how so many things I noticed, but he didn’t notice.
He was there when I feel helpless, he sees me in my darkest mode. I expect him to run when he knew, the reason I was trapped here but he stays. And now you’re saying he is gone?!
Yes, Honey. He is gone. He will eventually be gone.
I stared, helplessly. I could feel my knee buckled that I have to hold on to the stone railing of my balcony. Why? If you said he is gone, why? Why now? Why suddenly?
Because your heart reaches him. Honey, don’t you remember?
Remember, that you are not meant to love anyone. You will only bring hurt to other people. You are a poison. And before you hurt that innocent boy, we have to take him away from you first. Even if he returns your feeling, you will never be happy. You are not allowed to be happy. Your job is to stay in this tower, alone. Always alone.
I sat down. I remember him. I remember the night I pushed him away. I remember the harsh words I said. I remember the hurtful look on his face, the tone. That voice. I wanted to scream sorry but I know he is probably half way across the country, glad to be away from me. I’m sure he’ll forget me. He’ll meet someone new.
Damn it. Why.
Honey, he will remember you.
I looked up. He will?
Yes, after all, you were the darkest hour in his bright life.
This took me less than 30 minutes to write and is probably the shortest time ever. And I love it cuz it seems new. Like unlocking a new skill. Hilmi said it's dark. He always said my writing is dark. *eyes rolling* He said this is what happens when you are a Literature student. Ouch. Mcm dier bukan ex-literature student. Eleena said its tragic. I guess it is a mixture of both but I believe this is the closest to me bringing out what is inside of my heart. What do you guys think?
I think it is something new. Like when a painter discover a new way to mix their colors and how a photographer discover a way to bring out a certain image and how a musician finds the right chords to play together. This is how I discover mine.
I hope I can write more of this. Eleena and I are planning something. But it is mere planning for now but I really, really do hope it is not just a plan. I hope it is a work of action. Writing is not easy. It is like putting everything on the line and hoping that you win the lottery. I guess that is my fear. I'm afraid to sacrifice and I'm afraid off what is going to happen.
We can't all win in this world, it is the survival of the fittest. Not everyone wants to read your book. I'm afraid that if I fail the first round, it'll bring all of me down. I'm not saying I'm a patient of depression, but depression is there around me. Waiting to grab me in his arm again and wouldn't let me go.
I guess that's that. I have to get ready for class. Class pagi da ponteng -.-'