"When she came to her senses, she cut off all contact with him. It had not been easy, but she had steeled herself. She had stared at him for a whole minute and decided that she did not have a grain of feeling left, because it would have been the same as bleeding to death. Fuck you."
The color of surroundings that day is in full blast of contrast. Everything is bright; too bright and too beautiful. Every word is perfect, sharpened by renaissance poet. Every melody sings harmony of hope.
There was him. A dark haired boy with gentle curl, whose eyes smoulder like embers of fire in a desert night. My heart leaped as he charge forward. There was no mention of “he could be that boy.” To me, he is the boy.
And then, there was me. A dashing brawny young man, whose eyes so sensuous and radiant, awaiting like a knight to rescue his damsel. Or so I thought.
Truth is I’m not the boy. I wished I am, for only a boy like that is worthy of someone like him. He agrees.
There was a boy. Tall, handsome and well accomplished. He sits comfortably in great deal of confidence. That’s the boy he chose. He loves him so.
Do you know how painful it is to be told you’re not born for “roses and pearl?” It’s a dreadful fate. I never knew I’m walking such path, no, not until he came and told me of it.
It would’ve been better for me if he didn’t start anything. I wouldn’t have known my fate. I would’ve continue wishing, hoping, praying. I would’ve been the same naïve and dreamy boy.
My only sin is that I dreamed too far. Of course, why would someone like him take time to know a boy like me. Was there ever a goddess of time? It should be comforting to pray to her, I must say.
I was once told by a poet that the sky is not blue. To look closer, and see, that there are faint shades of oranges and yellows and golds, which only the loving eye can see. But then the sun, sometimes, is too bright, burning. Sometimes, I am too busy looking at its reflection in a vast summer sea. And then at some point, I lost the loving eye.
It’s no one’s fault. Sometimes, people fall without anyone pushing them simply because there is that thing called gravity. When you fall, it’s either you’re spinning, or dropping head first, or simply lying flat, may it be face-up or face-down. But this I learned: not everything that falls lands. Yes, despite the gravity.