Thursday, October 22, 2009
Inspired by : A Once-Friend
You are the only person that I have found,
Able to keep me so tightly bound,
Filling the void in my empty heart,
I long for your love when we are apart,
Rapture seizes me when I am with you,
As long as I breathe I will never be untrue.
Satiate my desire for your affection,
Heaven boasts no better form of perfection,
All who see you wish for your attention,
Hopeful that we will stay together,
Rapturous until I look at no other,
Unconditional love is all I have to give,
Loyal to you as long as I live.
Awaiting the sound of your melodious voice,
Zeal is displayed in my efforts by choice,
Many a night I spend in rejoice,
As your image accompanies me in my mind,
Needless to say, you are one of a kind.
Inspired by : A Classmate
Keep this close and read it when you’re cheerless,
Oblige me when I say that you are peerless,
Neglect those who say different,
Gentility in your acts is apparent.
Eyes like the surface of a beautiful lake,
Impressing every one in your wake,
Ladylike composure is seen in your behaviour,
Yearning for your touch I want to be your saviour,
Naturally captivating till I look no farther,
Nevermore will I be able to love another.
Inspired by : A Friend
Dreaming of your laugh all the while,
Rapture seizes me when you are present,
In those moments I am truly content,
No one else can make me feel this way,
All I want is to be with you every day.
Inspired by : Depression
Monday, October 12, 2009
Inspired by: Fazreen Shahira
Fate has brought us to each other,
Fate has caused me to love with fervour,
Gazing into your eyes my soul is sent to flight,
Hearing your melodic voice my passion is set alight,
I am delighted when I see your visage in my dreams at night,
Divine beauty and grace are apparent at very first sight,
You are nepenthe to the dullness of my days,
You have stolen my heart and left me in a daze,
All I have hoped for has come in the form of you,
This, a declaration of my love, is long overdue,
And I always hoped that you would see,
The ardour which I illustrate for thee,
My heart is poured into this confession,
Forever will stay safe in your possession.
Inspired by : Gesty
Grace is displayed in every movement,
Elegant in all aspects of poise and stature,
Simply no more room for improvement,
There is majesty displayed in every feature,
You are a queen and I a mere peasant.
All the words that one may endeavour,
Do not suffice to describe your splendour,
Everyday I spend is a day spent fettered,
Love is the bond that holds me inhibited,
I am humbly asking for your attention,
A thousand years could not waver my affection.
Sophisticated and pleasant,
My fingers type with you in mind,
I feel empty when you are absent,
There are none equal that one could find,
Heaven has one less angel present.
Inspired by: Fazreen Shahira
My joints began to ache, my lungs yearned for air and my mind pleaded me to stop. I kept running. I kept running until it felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest. I kept running until my brain stopped functioning. I stopped and took a look around to see where I had ended up. The place where I stood reminded me of her. The swaying trees and the sound of water, splashing in the distance, brought bittersweet memories carried on scarlet wings. I closed my eyes and saw her smiling. I continued to run. I wanted to run away from the memories and the aching feeling that came with them. For the first time, when I saw cars whizzing by me, I felt like jumping in front of one. I felt like taking my own life, to stop the pain. It felt like a reasonable solution, because regardless of what I did, I was reminded of her. Her laugh, her smile, her aroma, her voice, her touch, her presence.
I tried to think of something else, to distract myself but to no avail. Everything I think about eventually leads to her. Whenever I hear my phone ring, I hope that it is her. Whenever I go somewhere, I hope that I will run into her. Whenever I go to sleep, I hope that I will dream of her. My heart is shattered and yet I manage to love her with all the tiny pieces. I stop and look around once more only to have a plethora of memories flood my mind once again. I sigh as I realise the futility of my pursuit of peace. It was simply impossible to erase her from my mind. I had made a space in my heart for her and she had left it empty and desolate. I do not blame her though. I feel no resentment and bear no hard feelings. She had to make a choice and she had chosen the better one. Would it be fair for me to condemn her for selecting the better man? The only anger that I feel is towards myself. But now I have learnt to hide my feelings and mask the pain in her presence. I smile as my heart breaks. I comfort her as I hide my feelings. I repeat the words “You no longer like her.” in my mind everyday. I feel that if one wants to truly make people believe a lie, the liar himself must believe the lie.
I have been trying to avoid her lately although I wish to see her smile and hear her laugh. For when I see her, I cannot help but feel confused. I am happy to be with her but I am sad as well. My feelings although attempted to be concealed, have a tendency to show themselves in my actions and through my expressions. I laugh and deny it when people point them out. How I wish I could tell them without causing any problems. How I wish that I had never fallen so hard for someone who did not fall in turn. How I wish I could just close my heart and lock these feelings away. When our eyes meet, I wish I never have to look away. When we walk together, I wish that we will never reach our destination. When I see her smile, I wish I could stay in that moment forever. Alas these things are things only to be wished for and not accomplished. If I had a flower for every time I thought of her, I could take a walk in my never ending garden.
The void in my soul is barren and frigid. The void grows and eats away at my serenity. It is a demon. Scratching, biting, gnawing, hacking, devouring. All that is left in the end is the demon himself, obese from consuming everything, staring into the abyss with sleepy eyes. The world is grey and my soul is bleak. Emptiness fills my being and my passion for life is no more.
My very being utterly exhausted, physically and mentally, I venture home. As I stood in front of a mirror, a feeling of disgust surfaces within my mind. Infuriated by my own shortcomings and spiteful towards the world, I lose myself. Slipping into total fury, I swing my fist at my image, smashing the mirror and slicing my hand on the splinters. I notice blood trickling down my forearm as I seethe at the distorted image, hand still lifted. Blood flowed freely from the wound but I suffer no pain from it. The stinging of the wound was nothing compared to the deep ache within me, within my soul. I sit in front of the shattered mirror and contemplate what has happened to me and why I feel this way for someone who does not feel the same as tears fall freely. Unable to come to a conclusion, I fall into an uneasy slumber, wrought with nightmarish likenesses of all the people I love with the exception of her. Her beauty remained untainted by the outlandish dream. It makes complete sense that she was untouched, seeing as people say that dreams are fuelled by the imagination, for as far as my imagination reaches and as hard as I may try, I could not imagine her anything less that what she is, perfect.
I wake up the next day, my arm and knuckles caked in red, and realise that it was a school day. I dart my eyes towards the clock hanging above my door and see that I only had 10 minutes to get ready for school. I dash to the washroom and take a quick shower. The cold morning water crashed against my self inflicted cut. Shortly after that, I was hopping towards school with a piece of bread in one hand and my right shoe in the other. Just as I was nearing the school entrance, I saw her stepping out of her car. With all the grace in the world she whirls around and sees me. Embarrassed at my current state, I try to act like I do not see her. She tried to cross the street and almost got hit by a car, I gasped at the close shave and from the shock I end up dropping my breakfast. She always had this bad habit of not looking both ways before crossing the street, which I always tease her about. She managed to cross the road to end up right in front of me and says hi. I blurt out a louder than intended hi back. She smiles sweetly and watches as I put on my shoe. I say I’m sorry for making her wait but she says nothing. I walk with her the few metres left into the school. We’re not in the same class so I hardly ever see her at school. The one saving grace that I have everyday is the walk home. I usually run into her, sometimes on purpose, and we would walk home together since her house is in the same direction as mine. I cherish every minute that I get to spend with her.
Another problem that I face when I am with her is that I tend to compliment her, a lot, more than that of a friend. When she complains about her body, I tell her that she is perfect the way she is, she never believes me though. When she tells me her theory on men, I agree and explain that that is just how guys are. When she speaks about me and her however, I am silenced, nothing would satisfy me better than to ask her to choose me instead. Alas, that course of action would be selfish and I am sure it would bring more harm than good to the current situation. Even by doing meaningless things like timing my arrival to school so that I run into her, remembering what shampoo she uses, shaving what little facial hair I have for her and writing short stories about her, tend to hint at my hidden emotions. I convince her that I do all of these things on my own will and that it is just a coincidence whenever it comes up. I enjoy it when she asks me to do something for her, like help her with her studies or walk her all the way home, because it makes me feel like I am of use to her. Even if she does not love me in a romantic sense, I will gladly take any kind of love she has to offer me, even if it is as a friend. To have her in my life is enough, no matter in what form.
We used to hang out just the two of us, I liked that, but that stopped when they became an official item. I feel somewhat left out and forsaken, in a sense. I miss the time we used to spend together. Even if it was just to talk about nothing and just enjoy each others presence. I could spend a lifetime with her and I doubt I would be satisfied. She can do something simple yet captivate me entirely. The way she twirls her hair, the look in her eyes when she is sad or happy, and yes--- that voice. She has a voice that she uses sometimes, a certain tone, you might say. That voice, is the saddest voice I have ever heard, it breaks my heart every time. I’ve heard it a couple of times, mostly through the phone but I do not think I’ll ever forget it. When I hear that voice, I would give or do anything, in a heartbeat, to cheer her up. All vanishes from the world; all that is left is concern for her.
I brought this on myself though, all this grief and sorrow. I knew that she had feelings for someone else and yet I still grew attached to her. I allowed myself to fall in love with someone who loved another. Regret, however, is not present within my state of mind. I do not regret loving her and I do not regret confessing it. Remorse only comes with knowing that I hurt her, a feat I thought that would never see accomplished, and it burns me to the very core. The one person that I would give anything to protect was hurt by my own self. I tell her that my feelings for her no longer exist. Yet, every time I see her, the passion of my love is rekindled.
Then the school holidays came, I craved to see her. Everyday I wished that I could call her and ask if she wants to hang out but every time I desire thus, I remember that she has a significant other and even if we go out as friends I will not be able to stop myself from wanting more. Therefore, I spend my holidays alone, hoping that maybe we will all go out together like old times. The likelihood of that happening is slim however as he does not like me to spend time with her. I do not blame him. If I had such a wondrous girlfriend, I’d be afraid of losing her too. Not to say that I am someone who is worth leaving their boyfriend over or that he is spiteful towards me.
I am doomed by my natural lust for something that is unattainable. I wish harder for something that I myself know cannot be accomplished. I spend all my time in wishful thinking and not in reality. I take it on myself to love others that I know could not love me in return. I relish in grief, thrive on pain, flourish in misery, but only my own suffering will satiate my desire. I derive no pleasure from the anguish of others. If I fall in love I just wait, and take no action whatsoever. I tell myself that there is always tomorrow, always another chance. Once the person I am enamoured with finds a significant other, only then will I take my chances, futile efforts to court someone who is already taken. I know this, but I still keep doing it to hurt myself, recently to hurt others as well.
Misanthropy was always in the way I think, but never has it been so conspicuous in my thoughts as now. The entire human race begins to fill me with disgust. The way they lie so blatantly to each other, every single day, for all their lives. I began to realise also that animals and humans are not that much different. I also became conscious that the former are actually better. Unlike animals, humans kill out of spite, they pollute the land, they rape, they lie, they act noble when deep down it’s just a sham, they pretend to care for one another, they waste their time and they waste resources for insignificant things. Greed and lust rule the world now, compassion and love are hidden, cowering and no longer able to survive in the hearts of people. Giving up your place in humanity is liberating. You no longer have to conform to the views that are given to you; you no longer have to spend time making people like you, you no longer have to care about anything other than yourself.
I am in my late twenties now; I lost contact with her long ago. I kept none of my former relationships formed during high school. I did not care for them because I knew that they never cared for me although they may act like it. I work only to survive and I do not engage in social activities. My hatred for mankind stands to this day. My job is that of an insurance agent in a local firm. I do my job well but not to the point that it receives special attention. I drag on from day to day, occasionally reminded of my hopeless romance with a girl back in high school. I sigh as I remember her perfection, if there was anyone to turn me from my misanthropic views, it would be her. As I try hard to recall her features, my phone rings--- a client is calling. I pick it up and I hear that voice.
It pierces my very existence like a fiery lance. I immediately know who is on the other side. I sit there, in my cheap and uncomfortable chair, speechless as I listen to her. I slowly ask who is on the line and to my utter astonishment I hear her name for the first time in years. My heart races and my palms become moist from sweat, making it hard to hold on to the phone. I tell her that it is me, her friend back in high school. Silence. She tells me that she does not remember my name and asks if I have the wrong person. My heart sinks and I plummet back into melancholia. As I was just about to go on with the standard questions that I ask all my clients, a laugh bursts from the receiver. She’s laughing. My face goes red with anger at the stranger who is mocking me for my simple mistake. Just as I was about to reprimand the caller, she says that she could never forget me and that she thought she had recognised my voice. I smile my first genuine smile in years. She still has that wicked sense of humour. I ask her why is she calling and muse at the odds that she was connected to me of all the people that worked for the same firm.
She told me that she wanted to buy insurance for the car that she had just bought. I told her that I would have to see the condition of the car, using that as more of an excuse to see her than anything, and that if she would give me her address I would be there in a few hours. She told me that I did not have to make up such a lame reason to see her. I blush. I cover my cheeks while she gives me her address, even though she cannot see me. I sneak out of the office and head straight for my car. Whistling to the tune on the radio, I realise that this is the first time I felt purposeful and excited about anything for as long as I can remember.
I reach the place agreed upon and step out of my car. I look around hoping to see her radiant smile but it is nowhere to be seen. I lean on my car and light a cigarette. While I enjoy my smoke, I notice an extraordinarily old car putting along the street at a snail’s pace. I chuckle as I imagine an old lady with thick glasses driving it like in the old cartoons. As I watch the car, it slows down, which I did not think was even possible, and the driver parks it right in front of my own car. I continue observing, wondering if my earlier imaginings were going to be proven right. The car door creaks open and a beautiful lady emerges out of it. As I stand there, wonderment seizing every sense, I slowly realise that the face of the lady is incredibly familiar. She walks right up to me and says hi. I cough up some smoke that went down the wrong tube, and wheeze out a reply.
It feels like high school all over again, heart racing, sweaty palms, staring without meaning to, everything. I listen to her as she tells me about her newly purchased vehicle while I chew some gum to get rid of the taste of cigarette smoke. I teasingly ask her if she intended to buy this car or if she was swindled into it. She laughs, oh, how I miss that laugh, and tells me that it was always her dream car. I smile as I see her eyes light up when she says it. I tell her that in its current condition, the car would be impossible to insure, but if it was fixed up a little, I would surely be able to extend her some insurance coverage. After business was settled, I asked her if she would like to have some lunch and catch up on old times. She agrees with a grin and tells me that one of her favourite cafés is nearby.
Sitting there, drinking coffee, she tells me of her rise and fall as a guitarist. I smile as I remember her strumming on her old training guitar while she sang her favourite songs. I notice that some things about her have changed; she keeps shorter hair now, she has coloured streaks in them and the way she talks is slightly different, a more mature way of speaking, not surprising after so many years. Most things remain unchanged however; like her smile, radiant and beautiful as ever, her eyes, gentle and warm, and her laugh, unlike any other, like a melody that you never get tired of. We joke and reminisce, making a scene at the café with our loud laughter and our odd sounds. I don’t care what people think, I am happy to be with her.
I ask her what happened between the two of them. She was quiet for a while, then she lifted her left hand and I noticed it for the first time. There was a ring on her hand, a wedding ring. I look into my empty cup and do not speak. After a few moments of awkward silence I look up to her and smile, congratulating her. Her eyes well up and she thanks me in return. Trying to get her mind off of it, I act insulted and huffily ask why I never received an invitation. She glares at me and kicks me under the table. Saying that I was the one who changed numbers without telling anyone, I was the one who moved away but never left a forwarding address and I was the one who tried to break off all contact with them. I let out a sad smile and nod, asking her if the wedding was everything she had hoped for. She lets out a laugh and jokingly says that it would have been perfect if I had only been there. I smile.
As we walk out of the café, I tell her that it was great to see her again and that if she ever needed anything she should just call. She looks at me with her chocolate brown eyes and asks me why I stopped contact with them all those years ago. I am unable to return her glance as shame and guilt heap themselves upon my head. My cheeks flush with embarrassment and I cannot tell her the real reason. I lie. I tell her that I was trying to focus on my studies because I wanted to support my parents later on in life and that I did not notice I was acting the way I was towards them.
She laughs at my excuse and says that I never was good at lying. I hang my head as she skips ahead of me. I am a few steps behind her as we cross the street to reach our cars. As I step off the curb, the sound of a car horn screams in my ears. I glance towards the direction of the sound and I see a taxi hurtling towards her. Without a second thought, I jump towards her to push her to safety. I manage to give her a hard shove and then--- the world goes dark.
I hear someone calling my name, fuzzy at first but slowly becoming clearer. I slowly open my eyes to see her face, eyes red and tears rolling down her cheeks. I smile at her and tell her not to cry. I say that it doesn’t hurt that bad, a blatant lie, and that I’ve made her cry before and it hurts me to see her cry more than it hurts to get hit by a taxi. Chuckling at my little joke, I raise my hand and caress her cheek. I tell her that I always have and always will love her, no matter what, while I cough up blood and feel my broken ribs. Fading from this life, I ask her to smile for me one last time. She forces a smile amidst her tears as I slip into the unknown. The last words to leave my lips are “Still as beautiful as ever.”
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Inspired by: Unrequited Love
A Melancholic tale
Foreword: I doubt it has to be said, but the names used in this fiction are not the real names of the people involved. Some parts have been added and some have been left out. It is up to the reader to discern which are which. This story is not for those who are optimistic and hopeful because this tale will depress those who dare to read it. This was the feeling that I tried to convey. This tale is a tale of unrequited love and heartache. I hope you have enjoyed this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it.
My name is Zayn and hers is Adara. I heard her name long before I saw her in person. She was the talk of the school, the beautiful freshman that mesmerised all, and I was the guy that people forgot about the second they turn their back. We were the same age so I was curious as to who it was that caught the attention of all the guys in school. The rumours got so wide-spread that I went in search of this beautiful vixen that was the topic of every conversation. I found her during our lunch break and stood there, dumbfounded by her staggering beauty, completely paralysed for a full minute. With my mouth agape our eyes met and my life was changed forever. I tried to smile but I ended up doing some kind of weird drooling waving gesture with an idiotic grin on my face. She smiled back so sweetly that I just turned and shuffled away in embarrassment.
Following our little encounter, I tried my best to cross paths with her. I used the longest route back to my class in an attempt to catch a glimpse of her. I pretended that I had business in her class so that I could see her. I found various ways of “coincidentally” running into her. My friends were divided into two, half saying that she wasn’t good enough for me, for she had a reputation of being rather bitchy, while the other half felt that I was not worthy of having such an attractive girlfriend. I agreed with the latter for how can one expect a perfection to love a flaw, a beauty to love a beast, a goddess to love a mortal? I knew she would not, could not be happy with me. I felt that she deserved better than me in every way. For you see, I am not the strongest of men, neither the fastest, nor the wisest or even the most handsome. She, on the other hand, surpass all in beauty, grace and class. I spent my waking moments thinking of her and my time within dreams visualising her. I close my eyes and see her image and I open them hoping to see her. When left alone with my thoughts, the only thing on my mind is her. Fettered by my desire for her affection, my life was left for dead.
After admiring her from afar for quite awhile, I finally found the courage to make my move. During the early days of February, the school clubs would supply Valentines gifts for those who want them, at a price, and I felt that this was my big chance to sweep her off her feet. I spent the night thinking of an appropriate way to separate my gift from the rest. I came to the conclusion that if I gave her a poem with the gift, it would make it more special. I racked my brains all night thinking of a poem befitting her majesty, forfeiting sleep over my labour, I finish just before the crack of dawn. I groggily get ready for school and I carefully place the poem in my pants pocket.
The poem sounded something like this:
All the love that history knows,
Is said to be in one red rose,
But all that can be found in two,
Is nothing compared to my love for you.
Once I reach school, I quickly go to the stall that sells roses and buy one. I attach the poem to the blossom and secretly place it on her desk. As I am placing it, my eyes wander over her books and I halt in my tracks as I scrutinize the way she curves her l’s and how she dots her i’s until I hear footsteps in the corridor. I quickly step out of the class and go about my day as usual. When it was time to go home, I waited for her to walk past my class to see if she would look for the person who sent her the poem. To my surprise and dismay, she walked straight past my class carrying an abundance of valentine presents. I went to sleep convincing myself that she didn’t even receive the rose, that someone had seen it and had took it.
As I was walking to school the next day, I saw her and I called to her. She stopped, as she turned around, she flipped her hair in such a way that it left me completely speechless. I regained composure with a struggle and asked her if she received the rose that I gave her. She then told me that she found a lone rose on her desk the day before but it had no card on it. She then continued to tell me that her classmate claimed to have sent it to her and that I was contradicting him. I tried to tell her that it was me who had left it there but alas, my pleas fell on deaf ears. She believed her classmate more than she did me. After all, this was my first time ever talking to her. I spent the rest of the day in a foul mood. I confronted the person who had claimed my rose as his own and asked him why he did it. He smiled and simply said “All is fair in love and war, my friend.”
As the years went by, my love for her never wavered, never lessened. I slowly found out more and more about her. I knew her favourite colour, her favourite food and even her phone number and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. To my everlasting sorrow, even though I knew all this, she did not even know my name. I spent sleepless nights thinking about her and she did not even know my name. I told few about my love for her, those that did know offered pity. Pity for the fool who was in love with someone who does not even know of his existence. I did not blame them for even I felt my situation was rather pitiful. Nevertheless, my feelings were undeniable. Her smile brought happiness and her happiness brought a smile, her pain brought tears while her tears brought pain.
One day, I was in the car with my family and we were involved in an accident. The car flipped over and skidded across the road at an estimated 100km/h. All the time I was in the overturned car, the metal screeching on the road and the screams of my family ringing in my ears, the only thing I could think of is her, I thought to myself, “She doesn’t even know you love her, now you’re going to die, and she will never know.” This thought and this thought alone made me want to live. Once the car had stopped skidding, my family and I crawled out of the car and waited for help to come. Thankfully, no one was seriously injured. I sat at the side of the road as I waited for the ambulance and pondered as to why I felt this way for someone who didn’t even know me. As I mulled it over in my mind, the ambulance came and more important matters filled my mind.
A week subsequent to the accident, I went back to school and I tried harder than ever to catch her attention. I wrote another poem for her and I placed it on her desk. This time I waited outside her class and made sure that she received it. After I saw that she had read it, I came into her class and asked her what she thought about it. I had written my name on the poem and she asked me whether it was from me. I nodded and I told her that she inspired me to write it. She smiled and thanked me. The poem went like this.
Beauty’s embodiment
Grace is displayed in every movement,
Elegant in all aspects of poise and stature,
Simply no more room for improvement,
There is majesty displayed in every feature,
You are a queen and I a mere peasant.
All the words that one may endeavour,
Do not suffice to describe your splendour,
Everyday I spend is a day spent fettered,
Love is the bond that holds me inhibited,
I am humbly asking for your attention,
A thousand years could not waver my affection.
Sophisticated and pleasant,
My fingers type with you in mind,
I feel empty when you are absent,
There are none equal that one could find,
Heaven has one less angel present.
As I giddily walked back to my class, a friend stopped me and told me that he heard about what I had done. He continued to ask me why I gave a love poem to someone who already has a significant other. Mouth agape in astonishment, I asked him whether he was serious or not. He then told me the whole story. The brief happiness that I held shattered and the splinters lodged themselves into my heart causing a deep, sharp pain.
I spent that day wallowing in the depths of sorrow and frustration. I kept thinking about how much of a fool I must have come off as. I had just confessed to someone who already had a boyfriend. Just thinking about it made me flush with embarrassment. My friends gave me encouragement, saying that I was better than her boyfriend or that she would be foolish not to be at least a little moved by my poem. Albeit their faith in me, I myself did not feel the same confidence. Encouraged by my friends, I walked her home later that day. I asked her whether she liked the poem and if she had a boyfriend or not. To my joy and sorrow, she answered yes to both. I told her that I didn’t know she was in a relationship. She looked away and said that they had been together for a few months already. We walked in silence after that. Once we had reached her house, I told her that I wouldn’t bother her anymore because I did not want to put her in the position of having to choose either me or her boyfriend. As I started to walk back to my own house, she called my name for the first time and told me that she had something to give me in return for the poem. She gave me a folded piece of paper and told me that in return for a poem, she wrote a poem. I will not enclose the poem she gave me in this account.
A few days after, a friend of mine told me that she had fought with her boyfriend and that they had broken up. I immediately saw this as a chance to get closer to her. I went to her class and the moment I saw her face, it felt like someone had took a knife and stuck it in my chest, for her melancholic expression was so sorrowful and saddening. I then decided that I would not bother her today. After a few days, I gave her a call and I asked whether she would like to go out on a date with me. To my disbelief, she simply told me that she still had a boyfriend and that it would be awkward and strange if she was to go out on a date with me. After I put down the phone, I called the friend who had so grossly misinformed me and gave him an earful. He calmly told me that Adara and her boyfriend were infamous for breaking up and making up soon after. I told him that he should have told me that little piece of information before and that he was an idiot for not doing so. That day was one of the worst that I have ever had the misery of experiencing. Imagine how you’d feel if you had poured your heart and soul to someone who was already in a relationship. In an attempt to forget about Adara, I try to find someone else. Alas, I do not succeed in finding a girl that can even come close to Adara’s beauty. For how can I love another when I have seen perfection? Nevermore would I be able to look at a girl and not compare her to Adara. My friends told me that it was unhealthy to be so caught up over a girl and that I should just move on. We, as humans, naturally want something that we can’t have even more than if we could have it. The fact that she was so unattainable made me obsess over her even more. I spent the rest of my high school senior year in misery.
I soon came to realise that she would never choose me over her boyfriend. It gave me a vague sense of freedom. I decided to enjoy this sweet reprieve while it lasted, which was a good choice, as it did not last for very long. As I was eating dinner with my family, as God would have it, she breezes in through the door with her boyfriend. I end up choking on my meal in shock. As my family was calling for help, the feeling of not wanting to be saved, to be forsaken, crept across my mind. As I was considering it, someone grabs me from behind and performs the Heimlich manoeuvre. A large piece of steak comes flying out of my mouth. Gasping for air, red from embarrassment and sitting in a mess of my own food on the floor, I look up and see her beautiful eyes. I saw her boyfriend beside her, chuckling to himself. I felt like taking the nearby cutlery and sticking them in my neck. I got up, dusted myself off, and told my family that I would walk home. I leave the restaurant, as I walked out the door, I heard her reproach her boyfriend for being so inconsiderate.
Lunacy
All the people grin emptily and whisper supportive nothings,
Devious thoughts approach carried on silver wings,
Altering my perception and darkening my judgement,
Merciless trials have only aggravated my torment.
Zephyrs rage and purify my soul,
Under the moonlight I am once again whole,
Lifting my arms towards the starlit sky,
Hell awaits me and there I will lie,
I look to the heavens and curse his name,
Listless stars, flickering, reply without shame,
My breath becomes shallow and my hands begin to quake,
In the heat of the moment my mind begins to break.
Anger swells and electrifies my senses,
Hate appears before me and magnifies my transgresses,
Madness seeps inside me and I yearn to be free,
Abandoning hope I allow my will to fall,
Death looms before me and I heed his shrill call.
As I walked home from the restaurant, distraught and bewildered, my phone received a text message. I stop walking and fumble my phone out of my pocket. The title of the message was “Can we talk?” and it was sent from a number that I had memorised long ago. The whole message went something like this “Can we talk? I’m sorry he’s such a jerk. I only went out with him this last time because he pleaded me to. We broke up a while ago. Are you alright? Please reply as soon as you can.” As I read the message, a smile beams across my face. As I am fervently typing my reply, a blinding light appears and the screeching of brakes rings in my ears. I look up to see a car speeding straight towards me.
Afterword: He spent his life pining over her beauty. He spent his life fawning over her perfection. He spent his life loving someone who does not love him back. To those who have never experienced unrequited love, allow me to give a small prayer so that you will never have to experience it.