Deux
We all want to be on par;
to steal the wish
from someoneās stars
.
Our flaw and failings;
stiches and scars
to be loved
for who we are
-Lang leav, Stiches and Scars
***
He didnāt know when he stop listen to her rampant, it just went like that, as if his body automatically muffled her words. Until one night the distance became clear when she invited him into silent dinner on her house.
āDo you actually listen to what I say?ā He woke up from his bubble mind and look at her, confused. Her eyes narrowed toward him, her hand gripped the spoon tightly.
āIām sorry, what was it again?ā She slamed the spoon on her plate, giving them loud enough sound. He stop using his spoon as well, put it beside his plate in silent.
āWhat is it?ā he wasnāt sure what her question meant to be answered. He only sure whatever answer he gave, she wouldnāt like it. āYou stopped talking to me these days. You stopped listening too. You eat lunch and dinner like an automatic robot.ā
He couldnāt blame her for being angry at his delayed emotion, though. In fact, maybe heās the one should be blamed; he couldnāt control this feeling that keep bothering him, even Ā disturbed his sleep with negatives thoughts. She was right. He did his routine automatically. Heās not living in it.
āIs something wrong?ā her voice grew softer, but he couldnāt grab it. He knew She was angry at him, and he knew nothing he said will make it any better, since he was angry at many things too.
Among those many things, maybe he also angry at the bond she shared with her so called friends. An unreasonable feeling he wasnāt sure appropriate to have.
āHey,ā She woke from her chair, stood beside him. āTell me whatās wrong.ā Her hand touched his hand, and he went rigid automatically. He knew she felt it too, he knew that she knew his automatic self defense hasnāt worn off even after theyāve been closer of friends over a year now. There are still some lines she canāt cross off yet.
She kept her hands away from him, knowing he felt better without her touch at this moment. She didnāt want him to close himself off again, back being an emotionless, numb soldier in the middle of battlefield.
āTalk to me,ā She looked at his eyes, a desperation concerning her voice. āis something wrong? I knew somethingās not right ever since I saw you coming off Doctorās office. And I knew youāve been coming frequently, you even got yourself a medicine.ā
He battled himself, how she knew that? did she knew The Doctor had to once dragged him out of his apartement because he couldnāt bring himself to go out, since his headache was killing him? His sleep deprived didnāt come any better. He never knew emotion could affect his health like this.
Emotions make people human. But humans are fragile.
He didnāt felt like himself lately. He felt like a crumpled paper heād usually throw away because the draw was not good enough. Nah, thatās the words. He didnāt feel good enough. He wanted to get out of this loop of ugly feeling too, he just hadnāt found the right way yet.
āI donāt want to pry The Doctor. I want you to be the one who tell.ā She muttered slowly.
He actually donāt mind if she did that, so She could understand what happenned inside him chaotic mind from a more neutral perspectives and save time for him to explain. But on a later thought, he didnāt want her knew whatās inside his mind.
āIām just tired of you.ā
He shouldāve known it was a wrong start.
A very wrong start.
āā¦what?ā her eyes narrowed dangerously at him.
āYou and Him. It that a new thing? Is that why you keep giving other menās false hope?ā He said it all with fake smile plastered on his face.
āWhat are you talking aboutā¦?ā She folded her hand in front of her chest, face cold.
āI just reliazed it. You used other maleās presence as replacement because you couldnāt get Hiāā
His words died after her slap. It left a stinging pain on his left cheek.
āWho plant you such an idea?ā her words full of held back emotion. He could see her face turn red and her eyes watery right now. That beautiful shade of ocean now look at him with a level of angry he nevew saw, nor did he ever want. āwhat makes you think that Iāā
āCan you stop talking about him, then?ā another wrong choice of words, He could tell. He knew how wrong did it sound when he saw her face turn into complete anger. He just knew that maybe the things that made him feel better. Stop hearing things about that other man, stop seeing her so cheerful whenever they met on the street, stop seeing her eyes watching the sky in longing as she talk about that other man.
He knew it was unfair to her, and it felt wrong.
The problem was, He still new to all these confusing feeling and emotions. Books or movies didnāt provide him enough information about how to deal with bunch of them.
āI canāt. And I wonāt. He is my friend too.ā came her voice, hitting him hard like a punch. Rejection came with different weight, based on how important that person for him.
āIām right then. Iām just another replacement.ā The words came uncontrollable from his mouth.
Some part of him angry because She chose that other man, some part of him felt ridiculous to even think about the probability of she chose him.
He had no family. He had no purpose. He had no one. Why would She want to stop talking so profoundly about the man that make her happy, just for someone who had emotional capacity as big as teaspoon?
Why would he ever think he actually meant something to someone?
He thought he read too much absurdity about human emotion and relationship in the books, they all promised a bunch of feeling and emotion heās longing to experience.
āGet out.ā She called him out of his chaotic, unimpressed bubble mind.
āā¦I understand.ā He gave her a fake smile, took his bag and took his leave without a sound.
He went on fast walk to his dark, gloomy apartemen and slammed the door shut. Closing himself to the outer world.
He felt angry. At himself. At the bunch of these ugly, foreign emotions. At many things he couldnāt name. He had long forgot about emotion and feelings, now when it all comes in a loads amount, he didnāt know how to control it.
He let his body slid down on the cold wall, fist tightened while his head hung low. Her angry eyes plague his mind. The stinging pain on his cheek multiplied on his chest. Even if I tried, I still am the person who always ended up being hated. He never paid much attention on what people feel toward him; but with Her, it was on a different level.
Loving someone means letting that person hurting you, a privilege you knew you couldnāt control.
He learnt that night; along with the thing people called love, there is an ugly emotion called jealousy. It come with companion of anger, and ended with dominance of sadness.
Oh, he had learnt it the hard way.
***
Dewiās note :
My words a bit gloomy, I think. Or is it always? I guess Iām still playing on writing the feelings away.
