First
I don't exactly remember when it started because it was many years ago. It was a time when I believe I can live alone. I was fine by myself. I was fine with having friends I don't really like, or friends that I don't really hate but weren't so much alike. It was a life I wouldn't say fun but I believed livable. I was just, okay.
And then you came into my life. At first you were just like some background noise; I can hear you but I can still ignore. You smiled at me, you joked around, you asked me stuff about me. At first I refused to talk about myself, I never found myself interesting. Heck, I even hated myself. So when you ask me one thing about me, I will just give short,boring answer and asked you ten questions back. Was I curious about you or was just I being polite is a question that's becoming harder for me to answer. What was noise now was music to my ears.
But you were persistent. You don't give up asking me about myself. I started to open up, I believe you, I was hungry for your questions, your attention. You heard my every words, you processed every bit of information like it was an answer sheet for tomorrow's exam. If there were actually an examination for a Subject: Me, I'm sure you would pass with flying colours.
Never a day would pass without me thinking about you. You were a distraction, my personal sort of guilty pleasure. I found myself waiting for you. And everytime we met, we were in our own bubble. We were inseparable and separated from the whole world. It's like we placed ourselves on a darkened stage in a dark opera, the spotlight on us. We were floating with mist on our feet. It was surreal.
But it was too good to be true. And like any other good things, it ended. It felt so surreal just because it was unreal. What felt like a dark opera was actually the belly of a whale. What appeared like a spotlight was really just the flicker of a dying match. What we want to believe as mist was worse than cheap dry ice trick; it was sea water.
And it's drowning us fast.
To say I was devastated is an understatement. But anyway it's not what devastated me that one should ask but really it's how. We started so slowly and so smoothly that I progressively trusted you, but thing gets so ugly too abruptly that I scrambled for a place to hang on to. I don't know what went wrong until even today. My best guess was that you felt that everything about us was wrong, a sudden epiphany that slapped you awake from a deep sleep. While you made it to the surface, I was still in limbo. I don't know where was up or down. I cannot breathe nor see.
You made me believe in love. You made me believe that I need somebody other than myself. And then you decided to shove this down my throat: You don't need somebody else.
You see, it's not fair that you yourself started it and you yourself ended it. You gave me no choice at the beginning and leave no options to choose at the end. That's a load of cow crap.
Just like how Halimah Jongang had to accept that she is jongang, just like how Professor Snape had to accept that his love will never be requited, just like how Frodo had to suffer the load of The Ring, just like that I had to pretend that we were no more than just friends, well, less than that because I now cannot talk to you without feeling awkward, without you avoiding by not answering anything straight, without you becoming suddenly busy, without you taking the longest route just so we'll not bump into each other. The crappiest cow crap anyone ever throw at me. If there was any good thing that resulted from this is that I hated you more than I hated myself. That's a first in my life.
Today, what was background-noise-turned-music is not even a sound anymore. Halimah Jongang can always meet a dentist. Although not loved by Lily Potter, Professor Snape will always be love by muggles and sorcerers alike. And Frodo will always appear in the The Hobbit trilogy no matter how insignificant his role is this time around.
Excuse me for side-tracking towards weird cheap drama and epic movies anology. What I'm trying to say is I'm back to square one. C'est la vie. I already moved on. I am just, okay.
And then you came into my life. At first you were just like some background noise; I can hear you but I can still ignore. You smiled at me, you joked around, you asked me stuff about me. At first I refused to talk about myself, I never found myself interesting. Heck, I even hated myself. So when you ask me one thing about me, I will just give short,boring answer and asked you ten questions back. Was I curious about you or was just I being polite is a question that's becoming harder for me to answer. What was noise now was music to my ears.
But you were persistent. You don't give up asking me about myself. I started to open up, I believe you, I was hungry for your questions, your attention. You heard my every words, you processed every bit of information like it was an answer sheet for tomorrow's exam. If there were actually an examination for a Subject: Me, I'm sure you would pass with flying colours.
Never a day would pass without me thinking about you. You were a distraction, my personal sort of guilty pleasure. I found myself waiting for you. And everytime we met, we were in our own bubble. We were inseparable and separated from the whole world. It's like we placed ourselves on a darkened stage in a dark opera, the spotlight on us. We were floating with mist on our feet. It was surreal.
But it was too good to be true. And like any other good things, it ended. It felt so surreal just because it was unreal. What felt like a dark opera was actually the belly of a whale. What appeared like a spotlight was really just the flicker of a dying match. What we want to believe as mist was worse than cheap dry ice trick; it was sea water.
And it's drowning us fast.
To say I was devastated is an understatement. But anyway it's not what devastated me that one should ask but really it's how. We started so slowly and so smoothly that I progressively trusted you, but thing gets so ugly too abruptly that I scrambled for a place to hang on to. I don't know what went wrong until even today. My best guess was that you felt that everything about us was wrong, a sudden epiphany that slapped you awake from a deep sleep. While you made it to the surface, I was still in limbo. I don't know where was up or down. I cannot breathe nor see.
You made me believe in love. You made me believe that I need somebody other than myself. And then you decided to shove this down my throat: You don't need somebody else.
You see, it's not fair that you yourself started it and you yourself ended it. You gave me no choice at the beginning and leave no options to choose at the end. That's a load of cow crap.
Just like how Halimah Jongang had to accept that she is jongang, just like how Professor Snape had to accept that his love will never be requited, just like how Frodo had to suffer the load of The Ring, just like that I had to pretend that we were no more than just friends, well, less than that because I now cannot talk to you without feeling awkward, without you avoiding by not answering anything straight, without you becoming suddenly busy, without you taking the longest route just so we'll not bump into each other. The crappiest cow crap anyone ever throw at me. If there was any good thing that resulted from this is that I hated you more than I hated myself. That's a first in my life.
Today, what was background-noise-turned-music is not even a sound anymore. Halimah Jongang can always meet a dentist. Although not loved by Lily Potter, Professor Snape will always be love by muggles and sorcerers alike. And Frodo will always appear in the The Hobbit trilogy no matter how insignificant his role is this time around.
Excuse me for side-tracking towards weird cheap drama and epic movies anology. What I'm trying to say is I'm back to square one. C'est la vie. I already moved on. I am just, okay.
Comments
Mereka dianggap biasa oleh orang lain. Tetapi tidak buat Harry. Akhirnya di hujung kisah, mereka bersatu mengalahkan kuasa jahat.
Ia seakan berkait rapat dengan kisah manusia biasa. Tidak berjaya menggapai kawan cemerlang, namun, anugerah Allah, tiada siapa yang tahu hikmah di sebaliknya.