I look down, as if the burdens fron this year are pulling me down, like they were telling me that there was no future to look forward too.
I place my hands against my head, as if I am demanding an explanation to get a grasp of my situation. My vision scrambles around. And beside me are piles of backlogs, sheets of paper, unfinished manuscripts, loads of unprocessed data, and sketches of the fading memories.
I grab hold of my pen. I have tried picking up what I have started, only to wail in frustration as I couldn’t come up with anything to write. My pen no longer answers to me. I stare at it like for hours, all it has produced is just the letter “I”, as if it serves as a mirror for me to see what am I right now. It is just black. Nothing. Maybe the strokes of my pen represent the stirrings of my emotions. Every vivid stroke represents my dancing soul, ever-alive. But now it is just like my eyes, dead and conveying nothing. Nothing is stirring. It is all dark. Maybe there is something stirring. And that something are maybe regrets. They are just all dark…dark and enveloping my soul and pushing it into the abyss.
That darkness has dragged me down tremendously this year, producing many disappointments. I was horribly unmotivated for most of the year. I have treaded on thin ice, holding on to that faint hope of being with my source of inspiration for the past two years, only to lose the only person that mattered for me. What was the used of aiming to have the world, if that world does not have her in it? What is the use of the world I possess if she is the one that meant the world for me and she will no longer be by my side?
Maybe I should have not lost faith on her and pulled that retreating tactic, as if I was begging to be rejected. Maybe I should have stood strong against her mixed signals. But still, she gave me a reason to live and I must know if that reason was real or not… If that possibility was rooted from reality, and not conjured by my delusions. Maybe, I should have contented myself into being her “Friend A” and her “senpai” for a long time. If that would stretch the time of me being with her, though I couldn’t fool myself that I have all the time in the world.
But it was just not about me anymore at that point. It was maybe fine if I were the only one hurting, but seeing the suffering of others which was caused by my stubborn decision into holding on was no longer fine. The fairy tale had to stop. And it pained me more to be aware that it was on purpose. I thought I could just perform a social suicide like before, like Hachiman. But the weight of that decision, although the utilitarian one, was neither selfless nor selfish, continues to wear down my soul up to this day.
The girl that I once plead to have her help me live, is not longer by my side. And indeed, I no longer know how to live, squandering every opportunity, and messing up my life. Now, with my mind all over the place and unmotivated, I could no longer concentrate into anything. Every attempt to squeeze out my effort comes a resonating voice that asks me “what is the use?”. Now, my scholarship and future ahead are in jeopardy and my fate and future are in near shambles.
Maybe I could just give in to the dark and put an end to my suffering, or whatever was happening. But, I know that I was not that stupid to do that. I am not the protagonist of this story. I know that the story will not end there and I will just leave a terrible mess behind. Death, most of the times, is the selfish choice. People still rely on me. I need to pick up the pieces. I must recover, no matter how long it would take. Even though I still can’t see the future ahead, I must forward. I must look up.
I tried, for once, looking up towards the sky. Before my eyes were the sky, free from any light pollution, which turned into a sea of stars. They are so lonely, yet so bright. They twinkled, not because they naturally twinkle, but because the stirrings in the air, the hot and cold juggling around, just like memories.
Ah. Memories. Like when I made a lass chase after the stars and marvel before the class of the Greek gods, which made her shine, almost like a star. We used to look up and gaze upon the stars at night. She looked up in the sky and placed me there as one of the stars that she’s seeking after, not realizing that I was just by her side. And there just like the stars that became too beautiful, she disappeared. Was happiness also like that? Vanishing into thin air when you came close and touched it? Was it just an empty space when the star turned gone? No. There were actually no empty spaces in the sky. Focusing further into the void will lead us into finding more stars and galaxies, albeit only shining faintly, because they are far and more lonely than the others. But for me, who can’t focus beyond any further, I can only see darkness and void. There, I started looking down again.
Even so, I look down at this piece of paper. Even though I was beaten badly by life, I must go on. I must play. I must write. I willed my pen to write once more. As I stand as a hope for others, there is still hope. She might come back if I gather enough courage to reach her. She is just there. I just need to reach. I need to look up
Will I reach her?
I hope it reach her.
This might be too late for her to reach this. But I love her. When she asked for clarity, I can’t answer it through spoken words, but I can with my pen. It is that kind of love where I want to be with you always, where I want to get close to you, and where I want to be your significant other.
Hope would come, either by her return or finding new love, whether from the past or from the future.
I am holding on to these feelings, as if they were hibernating amidst the winter, knowing that spring would soon come, this 2018.
I must look up.