I Tried Being Honest…

You stay up past midnight in front of your computer, doing your “project”. Then Michelle Branch’s One of These Days starts to play. It’s not really the song of your life, but there is something about it that you find sad. No, you refuse to use the word “sad” on this one. There are thousands of adjectives out there, you say. So you think of a better, much accurate term. You couldn’t find any so you settle for “weird” instead. The song sounds weird. Yes, that’s it.

You go back to searching, clicking, copying, pasting, and saving. In the middle of the job, you begin to snicker and shake your head. Something’s terribly funny. You are now laughing uncontrollably, still clicking on instinct, still shaking your head. The words “pathetic”, “stupid”, and “sorry” endlessly run through your brain, making you laugh all the more. You are so occupied with this that you fail to notice the first teardrop rolling down your cheek. In fact, you also fail to notice the ones after that.

Laughing and crying at the same time is hard, so you stop working. You are now talking to yourself and to some other person who’s not even there. The three words in your head roll off your tongue in sentences that begin with “Wow, I’m…” It’s so brutally funny, you decide, so you go and laugh some more.

Your first attempt to wipe your already wet face shocks you. Suddenly, it’s no longer as humorous as it seems. The floor… you have to sit on the floor. And there you are now, hugging your knees. You utter incomprehensible things in mixed languages. It’s difficult to breathe with all that crying, your chest aches so much that you begin to get scared. You just shrug the thought off. The worst has already happened anyway.

You stay locked in that position for a long time. Oh, yes, you’ve tried, but discovered that each movement of your muscles hurts you more. You surrender; your hands no longer have their usual strength and warmth. No longer sobbing, you have resolved back to silent tears. That’s when you pay attention to every detail of pain, longing, and love in your system. You begin to form this narrative in your head because you realized you want to share this moment with someone – anyone – even if they wouldn’t really care or understand. It’s the next best thing, you think.

Before you know it, you’re on your feet and back in front of the computer. You’re typing your story, hoping that he would or wouldn’t come across it. Then you take a pause. You realize that the whole process is starting all over again. So you just stop here.