Monday, 28 July 2008

Cliché

He is walking all alone in the middle of the night. His sight is focusing on the road ahead. The cold wind touches his pale skin. In each step, you can feel the weight he’s carrying. Not the bag strapped on his shoulders but rather something more personal. There is something in his throat, a lump, that’s forcing its way to come out of his mouth but he keeps on pushing it back...back to his heart. But eventually, containing it all is not the best option, because sooner or later when the dam burst, you will surely catch yourself drowning. And so he did.


Using his left hand, he’s covering his mouth. No one is around, just the moon and the stars glaring from the sky. Definitely there are no ears that can hear his lamentations. But still he doesn’t want to show the world that there is a sad soul wandering in the stillness of the night. That here he is, face drenching with tears and his heart wrenching. From the losing end, he’s like a beaten soldier.


It was a night of nostalgia. It is as if everything happened just recently. The warmth of that embrace, the holding hands, the moments spent together, and all the kisses. That heart melting stare from those beautiful brown eyes, and the scent of that perfume he used to admire. The ecstasy of having somebody to love and take care of, he was able to experience it all but not tonight.


He always trusts his instincts. He believes that by trusting it, he is by all means protected against hurt, since he has that sense of awareness, that innate ability to see the possible outcome of a situation, which in his case has always been not in favour of him. But it seems like he is a fan complicating things. He knew it all along, that no matter what he do, even if he put his heart in the palm of his hands and dare to express it all, he can never make somebody love him back. But still he keeps on returning to the very flame that’s causing the burn. He was falling, though he knows that there’s no one on the ground to catch him.


“What’s my worth to you? What am I to you?”


All this time, he is seeking for the answer. And tonight, he becomes certain of THE answer. The sign he’s been waiting for just arrived in front of his face, biting him. “I never had your heart. I am just a rebound.”


It was all over.


No more happy times.


No more happy songs.


No more perfect rhymes.


For the second time in his life, somebody just walked out of the door.


Maybe he deserves it; after all it was his choice. He chooses to love a difficult person. Because he thought that it was the best thing that he can do. Turned out he was wrong. And so all he can do now is just to be happy for the one he love the most, even if it means he’s not part of that happiness. Even if it means he just have to step back, and look from afar.


He continues to walk, finding his way back home.


No more tears, just scars.



(just a work of fiction)

3 comments:

iriz said...

What a fiction, great writing. Eto na ata ang pinaka-malalim sa malalalim.

The fictional girl must be very lucky but maybe the guy is right,she doesn't deserve it at all.

This line...
"He always trusts his instincts" -it's so you. :)

The way you delivered every bit of emotion, i can't help but to admit i'm impressed.

Eben said...

pwede na ba akong writer ng pocket book? LOL

gillboard said...

pwede nang pang pinoy romance... hehehe