Exposed Soliloquy

Who are you?

Don't take this the wrong way, I mean I feel like I know you but you don't look familiar.

Oh excuse me, I feel an itch on my nose.

Oh? Does yours itch too?

Wait- How long has it been?

Well he’s 2 now, so add 9 months to that figure and we’re almost close to 3 years.

Did you notice?

When you traded your heels for flats and then gave up and settled for flip flops?

Did you notice?

When you no longer took an hour just to get ready and now when you leave the house you just grab whatever that’s clean and doesn’t require ironing, leaving all those pretty tops and jeans to collect dust in the back of your closet?

Did you notice?

When you stopped getting dolled up and realized the last time you smothered your face with your favourite foundation, it had already been 2 years past the expiration date?

Did you notice?

When you realized the only form of socializing that you’ve had over the past 2 years was with your toddler or if you were lucky, your handful group of friends over texting on a small screen.

Did you notice?

When somewhere in between the dirty diapers, the tantrums, the sleepless nights, the fevers, the vomit, the Cocomelon, the snack times and play time that you lost your spark and passion?

I suppose I didn’t notice all those things. With being so occupied with tiny feet running around begging to be chased, trying to avoid bath times. Or all those hours quietly searching and reading on the best- schools, parenting methods, educational toys, or child friendly activities while I struggle to make sure that my toddler gets his 3 hours nap coz if he doesn’t then there’s one heck of a tantrum coming my way later on that night.

It sounds like I’m complaining, huh?

Well it’s more of a rant.

Coz you see, I wouldn’t trade my child for anything in the world. His smile is worth more to me than any luxury high end branded bag out there. I live for those moments when he’s asleep and he starts tossing and turning but as soon as his little arms find its way around my neck, he’s sound asleep again. Those moments of hearing his cries a mile away coz he fell and hurt himself and only mommy can make it better.

But I’d be lying if I said I don’t miss my old self. The person I used to be. The person I used to look like. The person who didn’t fall asleep some nights worrying if she failed as a mother.

Maybe the day will never come where I look into the mirror and see a familiar me.

My first love was a scary love, full of uncomfortable experiences and pressure from his expectations, I ended up running away.

My second love was a wake-up call, it started out exciting like a movie, but ended with reality, I ended up learning that happy ever after is just a fairytale.

My third love was of betrayal, I never knew one could love two at the same time. He told me she loved him more. I was just one of his options.

My fourth was a godsend, he was there for me at my darkest and I owe him so much. But I had a dream and he doesn't. I was forced to choose between settling down and my dreams for the future. I was 18, I broke his heart and followed my dreams.

My fifth was the deepest and longest, but also the most painful. It was a dramatic roller-coaster ride, both the ups and downs. We both went through so much, both broke and tried to fix the pieces, again and again, and again. In the end, there was nothing left in each other but echoes of the past. But there was no future. I sincerely pray for his happiness, I hope he finds the one who could fill the void that I couldn't.

I studied in a school hidden in an abandoned part of the city, in a building that was surrounded by ruins of underground mazes. There were no one else other than a small bunch of us, only enough people to fit one classroom on the 13th floor. It was a peaceful and beautiful place. As if all of civilization has been reclaimed by nature, with foliages growing at every corner.

Beautiful as it may be, it was also deadly. The many floors of the building that looks identical and the exit leading out to the underground maze promises a lonely death once lost inside it, never to see the light of day again.

He was the only one who knew the way around the ruins. He was my best friend, and also the one I connected my heart with. He would lead our little group so we would not get lost, and always warn us to stay away from the maze, even if it’s our only way out of the school. Many times I’ve gotten lost, due to being directional challenged, but he always finds me in the end. Bringing me back to safety.

Since we live in a school, obviously we would have teachers as well. They are a mystery to us though, appearing for classes and disappearing after it ends. We do not know where they live or what secrets they hide. They would tell us nothing, other than what they would be teaching for the day. But to be honest, we know nothing about who we are either, we had no memories beyond our time here in the school.

One particular teacher was very nice to us, too nice to be exact. Like the others, she would not tell us anything beyond the ruins, but she would stick around after classes to spend time with us. She particularly dotes on him. Always following him around trying to strike up a conversation. He would sometimes ignore or avoid her, but in a polite manner since he still respects her as our teacher. I would watch them, and sometimes would want to join in, but he would always give me a quick look that tells me to stay away from them. I did not understand, but I trusted him like how a wolf would trust their pact leader that whatever he did it was for our own good, for my safety.

As days went by it was more apparent that she was infatuated with him. She was spending more and more time with our group. But due to that, she must have also picked up the hint that I was not just a classmate to him, for he treated me with care. One day she went as far as to follow us into our sleeping chambers, which is just another cleared up room filled with mattresses on the floor and snuggled up against me, saying that she wants to sleep beside me. He was crossed but she was adamant, begging me to let her stay. She knew he could not say no to me, and she also knew I was too soft to reject her pushy advances. That night I slept very uncomfortably, being hugged to sleep by my teacher as if I was branch and she was a koala. Have you seen how scary koalas can become? I thought as long as I am surrounded by him and my classmates, everything would be fine in the morning. I thought wrong.

I opened my eyes to an unknown room, tied down to a chair. I was alone and it was dark. There was a small window on the wall where a very unfamiliar light shown in from the outside. I saw lights like these in our textbooks before. They were yellowish orange, unlike the soft white glow of the moon that lights up our nights. This light was called… street lamps. I knew then that I was no longer in the ruins, and the bad feeling I have in my guts tells me I was kidnapped, back into what they called... civilization.

Somehow I was able to untie myself from the chair and my instinct told me to escape as fast as I could. I now understood why he warned me to stay away. That woman was dangerous.

I broke open the small window and squeezed myself out of it, dropping myself down to the ground that had stone patterns on them: pavements. I looked around and found myself in a dimly lit alleyway between two rows of low cottages. I lowered myself in a stealthy way and quickly walked away from the house I was detained in. The further the better, I thought, I can find my way back to the school later.

Just as I was halfway down the alley, a bunch of people came out from one of the cottages in front of me, cheering and singing while holding onto a dark brown bottle. Not too sure if they could be trusted, but at least they didn’t look like bad people so I walked up to them, maybe they could help me.

But just as I reached them, a gunshot rang through the night and one of them slumped down to the ground, lifeless. I snapped my head back and there she was, smiling like how she always did in class, but with a gun in her hand. Those people who were cheering and singing a few minutes ago went dead silent and stared at her in shock. Two more gunshots and two more people went down. Adrenaline rushed through my veins and instead of running away from her, I rushed towards her in shocking speed, almost feral. I’m not sure if it was my flight or fight instinct or just pure rage from what she had done so far that got to my head, but with a mighty leap, I jumped onto her and wrestled the gun off her hands. I clawed and bite and suddenly I felt the world shake.

CRASH.

The sound of my wall clock slamming onto the ground jolted me awake. I sat up on my bed and groggily looked around, it was the strongest earthquake I’ve felt so far.

In a minute or so it ceased, so I dropped back into bed and went into a dreamless sleep.

9:21am 5.1 earthquake

-D.Lynne

You're so talented! They said.

But she was diagnosed with PTSD and depression.

You're so rich! They said.

But she had no future or goals in life.

You're so loved! They said.

But she was already numb and broken inside.

You're so lucky! They said.

But he went through hell to get to this point.

You're so popular! They said.

But he got so many hate mails.

You're so perfect! They said.

But he almost lost his life going under the knife.

What we did not know, may easily overshadow what we envy.

I ran down the stairs.

Not this floor the janitors told me, the floor after the next downstairs.

Why is there 3 janitors cleaning the same place? I thought to myself as I descended the stairs from the emergency exit of a building that was unknown to me. But before I know it, I was walking upwards and ended up at another wrong floor. Here is where I met him.

He was with a female friend. We talked, we clicked, we had fun together all three of us. Soon I realized I can no longer stay, I had to get to my floor. We looked at each other meaningfully for a moment before I turned away and hurried down the stairs again. One floor, two floors, it is still not my floor. But a door was left half open so I took a peek. A parking lot. Bright sunlight. And.. colourful dragonflies filled the skies. Before I knew it I was outside staring at the dragonflies. A scream. I looked behind and saw slimey brightly coloured monsters that appeared all around. They slowly creeped towards me as I started to back away. Suddenly the dragonflies started to attack me as well. So I ran, and ended up busting into a church. Here I met them. A nice family. They took me in. They loved me. But why? I did not know but soon being with them I forgot about my floor. They gave me curry and I told them it reminds me of my Japanese host mother who used to cook delicious curry for me. The lady who is now taking care of me listened to my stories when suddenly a familiar yet uninvited face appeared at the entrance. My childhood stalker. A classmate from primary school. Someone I was kind to when he was shunned by everyone else. Due to that he got attached and stalked me in high school. Someone who taught me that sometimes kindness has consequences as well. My voice turned cold. Why are you here? I asked in monotone. I wanted to act as cold as possible, I wanted him to go away. But as usual he was unaffected and walked over. I missed you, he said. Where have you been. It sent chills right down my spine. Please stop searching for me I said coldly. The lady did not take notice, she was in her own world cooking away. I walked over to help her, hoping he will just go away after a while. He stayed. He nudged. Soon I got used to his advances and just treated him normally. But bit by bit, I come to pity this lonely boy who just wanted a companion. His sad sad eyes showed a bottomless void with no light. Maybe it will be fine I told myself, he means no harm anyways. This is when he came in. My wrong floor guy. My heart gave a little leap at the sight of him. I wasn’t able to say anything before he came over, grabbed my hand and pulled me out with him. I’m sorry I’m taking her with me, he told my new family and the lonely boy. My new family was unwilling to let me go. She enjoyed her time on this floor, they said. But I just found her again, said lonely boy. But she is mine, said wrong floor guy.

I stared at all of them. What is this? Why does everyone love me so much? I did nothing to deserve such love, I had nothing to give in return after all that they had gave me. Worst of all, I had someone I loved, someone I did not have the chance to tell wrong floor guy about. I did not know he would think our relationship as this, and I wasn't aware that I also grew fond of him.

What is happening to me? That’s when my memory returned. I need to get to my floor. I rushed out and continued running down the stairs. My heart aching as I ran. I finally reached my floor. It felt like years had passed. I hesitantly pushed open the door and I was beside the man I loved. We were on a roller coaster. He was beaming with glee, happy that he tricked me into sitting in a roller coaster with him. I yelled murder at him when we reached the drop, but before I could scream, we reached the end of the ride. Eh. Did time just skipped? Just when I thought that, I was teleported to another scene. Years did pass. I was with my man and we were bringing our little ones to the zoo of monsters. As I watched all the other parents and children walk into the zoo, I noticed a boy with shaggy white hair dressed in a robe, holding a lantern, wearing a see through mask. He seem to be the one welcoming guest to the zoo. As I watch his silhouette from behind, a skeletal figure peeked at me from beside his robe, the sign of death incoming. The boy was dying. I walked up to him and he turned. His face lighted up at the sight of me. My tears started to flow. My heart broke instantly at the sight of him.

It was my wrong floor guy. He somehow shrunk into a child. And has lost his memory and himself, all he could remember was the face he has been longing for. He open his arms, with a big wide smile, like a child asking for his mother’s embrace. I broke, shattered to pieces as I embrace the dying child. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Is all I could say. He on the other hand did not understand what I was saying, but he looked so so happy. He passed away, and I woke up. Feeling entirely broken. And as I wrote this to remember my dream, tears continued to flow.

I've heard people define the hurt of betrayal as a double ended sword.

It didn't matter if it was the left or the right.

Either way, the blade sinks into your skin, ripping up the flesh until it reaches it's final destination.

Pain and desperation.

Some define it as hearing every person you love saying goodbye at the same time.

The instant loneliness you feel after once feeling so loved.

Lost and confused.

But I guess I've been through the worst betrayal possible.

Why?

Because I no longer feel anything. Emptiness is probably the worst form of betrayal, for what could be more dangerous than losing the fear of dying?

The fear of living a life that was never lived.

Who are you? Why do you hate me so much?

She laughed, looked at me straight in the eye,

“Honey, don’t you remember?” With a smug smile on her lips, she whispered, “I am you.”

Stop. No.

Why? Try.

No. Yes.

Go. Stay.

No. Love.

No. Yes.

Go. No.  

No. Yes.

Go. Stay.

Hurt.  Trust.

Love? Love.

No. Yes.

Shit. Yes.

Love. Love.

I didn’t mean to give you too much.

It was just one time I promise.

When I mixed too much sugar into your coffee and you didn’t like it.

When I poured in too much milk for your cereal and you complained about it.

When I sprinkled too much icing on your pancake and you dropped it.

Then everything became too much.

I was thinking too much.

I was observing too much.

I was talking too much.

I was sharing too much.

Maybe that’s why you left.

I became too much for you.

And that’s why you left.

I was raised with Disney tales of true love and how a single kiss defined it. I grew up dreaming of my fateful encounter with Prince Charming and how sparks would fly the moment his lips touched mine.

After years of wrong timing and multiple encounters with the wrong people, I finally understood that I was misled to believe that the lips was the only organ that could ever define “true love”.

And then I stumbled upon the likes of him.

I felt true love when we had coffee on a random afternoon, and we exchanged the tales of our youth and travels. I felt true love when we had coffee after a movie, and he enlightened me with the small details of his past, present and future. I fell in love when we had coffee after attending a friend’s wedding and he asked me to list down the things that I couldn’t digest, and he listened to every word that came out of my mouth as if every word was a mind binding spell.

It took me a while to finally realize it, but when I did, it was something that I couldn’t shake off.

True love wasn’t embedded in a single kiss that ignited sparks in my stomach. True love was the ability to feel as if I was being undressed without the need for him to lay a single finger on me. It was the vulnerability I left exposed as I let my walls crumble in a single week after I spent years building it. True love was him remembering that I eat my fries with ketchup instead of chili sauce. It was him not bothering to understand the depths of my anxiety, but to simply accept that it was there. It was him telling me that he loves me without a single hint of doubt in his voice.

True love was just that- true.

People ask how is your life so perfect People get inspired by my views People think I’m lucky People find comfort in me People are envious of my brightness But the truth is, That is not the truth. The only difference is that, the broken pieces are out of sight. 

Why?

I explained to you in lengthy detail the amount of pain you inflicted on me.

 Maybe it was the lack of blood, Or the invisibility of a slash wound that you decided to shrug me off.

It was like I was a 5 year old child who told you there was a monster under my bed and you said it was just my imagination as you hushed me back to sleep.

 The problem was that the monster under my bed was the web of lies that not only did you manage to weave effortlessly, 

 But you delivered it in a voice that was so convincing- I would have believed it if I hadn't already known the truth.

It didn't just feel like a sword that was stabbed to my stomach, But the twist of the blade made sure the wound was deep enough to make me feel like dying,

But it was shallow enough to not hit any critical arteries that would finish the job. It left a hollow hole within me that I've been trying to fill ever since and failed. 

Months down the road and I still have my doubts.

I always knew that sticks and stones could never hurt me.

But words woven into lies turned out to be a double tongued serpent.

One moment all was fine and dandy and the next, flashbacks come in puzzle pieces and I'd religiously put them together despite knowing how ugly the picture would turn out.

At the end of the day, it all leads me back to the same question. Will I ever get over it?

You shouldn’t think like that they said to me Give it a chance they told me It’s through experience I said to them It’s because I’m tired I told them

I am jaded now, I had too much emotions before

I cannot trust now, I trusted too much before

I no longer search now, I’ve searched far and wide before

I’ve gave up now, I’ve tried so hard before

I cannot commit now, I committed too much before

I am strong now, I was weak before

I am happy now, I was unhappy before

I am alive now, I was dead before

I’m perfect now, I was full of imperfections before

But actually.

I still feel. I still want to trust. I still wish to be chosen. I still do not wish to give up. I still hoped for commitment I still fear I still feel pain I still felt lifeless I know I am far from perfection

But I am tired.