The Pain with the Stars
Why am I having this feeling that this would be the end? The butterflies in my tummy were frantic not because they flutter their wings at the sight of a sprouting love but because the only blossom that they have found starts to wither, waning its life, losing its vibrant colors. They were in panic, they were all terrified of its imminent death.
As I walk on the empty streets, my mind was drifting aimlessly to the indefinite void. What will happen next? Where will I be? Should I be glad or should I mourn for something I never had? How ridiculous of me to feel so lost in a maze that I made myself to escape from.
How I wish I could go back to the time when all was fresh, new and wonderful; when I could feel the rush of wind blowing past me; when I could travel to far off unfamiliar places and see the trees, villages and mountains ahead of me; when the moon would chase me while brightly smiling beyond those clouds; when I could gaze up at the night sky, form patterns among the stars and silently ask them to conspire with the destiny's plans; when I would climb to the peak of the world and see those little toy towns moving on their own; when I would go to that safe sanctuary, silent and obscured from the indifferent crowd and be calm. It was beautiful. It was exhilarating. The feeling was divine and I finally knew what it was.
But of course, I don't want to be fooled, who does want that? I keep on reminding my relatively hypnotized self that it was just pure experience of...adventure. I mean, everyone does that with anyone. I was almost convinced then when suddenly I felt those strong arms around me. It caught me off-guard and I stood there frozen. It devoured my senses. My world stopped rotating from its axis. My system malfunctioned. I tried to speak but it seemed my words left me. And so I surrendered to the sound, to the scent. The embrace was now tighter and I could feel his frenzied heartbeat and agitated heavy breaths. I couldn't breathe. My heart was swelling with... what? I, myself, am frightened to admit the word.
Remembering those unprecedented events, it achingly twists the deepest of my heart. It can't be happening. No. It should not happen at all. But it did. What's done is done.
I don't know where to stand. I don't know where to go. I tried to find my place and trying is too painful. Finding your worth is also opening yourself to vulnerability, exposing yourself to anyone who could throw a dagger to your heart and just watch it bleed. People find it odd to stick in this bitter emotional predicament. If they only knew. If it's just that easy, I probably found my way out. I'm tired of telling my pointless dramas to others when in fact they don't understand a thing on what I'm going through. It's like explaining the concept of the internet to an ant. They might find it irrelevant, or silly.
"Pain demands to be felt."
A repeating memory of this line reverberates to the inner facets of my soul. It's an innuendo, a soft whisper. I have prepared my self for this. I'm now in the excruciating process of finding my place here on earth, and I have to deal with the pain to know my worth. This must be the root of this sudden agony, fear and longing. And the end of this test is still hanging, concealed from my metaphorical sight.
I stood there while watching the screeching wheels away from me, my eyes were blurred by the sudden mist from that tinge of despair. He was gone. I'm alone again.
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