Discharging my clothes and putting them away through placing them inside the laundry basket, even when I am doing this thing I can’t help but to just do the idea I have in mind right away. I stared at the mirror in front of me. Trying to act like the sadness I have been feeling has no effect on me but when I looked at my eyes- I was completely in denial. I am wrong. The awry tiredness can be seen through my stare. I cannot pretend like I am always just fine with this. I wipe my tears using the face towel in the hopes that I wouldn’t have to meet my eyes the moment I am finished doing it. I closed my eyes after I finished wiping my face.
“Is this normal?” I said to myself while facing my reflection on the mirror.
I’ve missed the days entertaining trivial matters, using the eyes of a kid. But now- I cannot, I can’t go back to what’s used to be. Nor I would love to go back to those times. A lot of thing confused me while I started to grow. The events that passed me by, the actions of people and how they treated me, some things were clearly inappropriate. Some things brought the light feelings of positivity in me. But no matter how I wished to have the perfect life back then, free of burdens, away from distraction, where conflicts doesn’t even exist, and instead of going through those badly catastrophic experiences such as pain, loss, betrayal, heartbreak, anything associated to that negative emotions that my life could’ve have those lovely, unforgettable happy memories, where I can lay in the garden in a bed made of roses. It is just impossible.
Because suffering is a part of life, there is always this balance. Were things from the opposing end existed, contradicting each other’s value in one’s own life. For the person to realize what does one truly want out of it. I did wished I was free from everything that was bad, dark, haunted, everything that has the ability to corrupt my life in disastrous ways but how can I learn? How can I grow, if life is always that easy?
Suffering is a part of life- but one can always choose the best decision that can put his or herself in a better place instead of letting one dwell and be in a position that will be more detrimental.
I am slowly becoming like an adult, and a part of being a matured adult is the ability to have that decisiveness to make the decision even if it’s hard to do it sometimes. It’s something that came in mind- the moment I turned into the age of legality.
I walked out of the comfort room, only to stare in space. I laugh came out. I am still young, but here I am far ahead in my thinking. But it’s better to have this outlook while I am still climbing towards my adulthood, rather than realizing these thoughts when it’s already too late for me.
I pinned my look all over my desk. I never liked using my phone. I only liked using it when I have it in my pocket and I’ll be in that need to take photos. The longer I stared- the more my mind took me further away, preventing me from fully reaching the phone that, I can just reached easily. I sat on my bed battling the urges I have in mind.
“To call, or to not call?” I stated.
It’s difficult. I wriggle the thought of just going to sleep and act like I did not miss him today where I totally am into my feelings for him. I will be deceiving myself because me missing him is something that will not vanished once I open my eyes tomorrow morning. Ensuring myself that I am bold enough to initiate the first move, I crawled and went to the side of the bed to be in a close proximity with my phone that is sitting on top of my desk, laid dormant.
The notification is obviously waiting to be acknowledged on top. It was a message from Alcuin.
Alcuin: Have you already arrived?
I swiped it off the notification pane, and taking it off the bar. I pressed the #1, for a speed dial. I am now calling him. I waited for him to pick up his phone. I stood from being plopped in my bed to transfer being seated on my chair in front of my desk. Tilting my head while I massage it for a bit, I waited.
“I’m busy.” The voice was from the other line.
Wearing my tightly closed eyes, I let go of another exhale of frustration.
“I gave you a call. I just want to check on you.” I paused for a bit.
“How’s my friend? I mean- how are you Galen?” Even addressing him as my friend, the label is making me contemplate.
Does he still want to be my friend? No. The right question will be; “Are we still friends?”
“I’m hanging up. Dad’s here.” He answered plainly. It was too plain, too bland, with no emotion.
I gave out a sardonic laugh before he ended the call, cutting off the conversation that is still starting abruptly. I placed my phone down and stared at nothingness. Shaking my head off, I began rocking it side by side continuously. I wiped the tears that fall.
Recovering from the shock I began wiping it off, but it’s not stopping. Then I let it fall. It cannot be stop anyway. I am just trying so hard. Literally and figuratively trying so hard, I am trying too hard. My fingers brushing my cheeks and it couldn’t prevent the tears it kept on falling. I cannot seem to tell my mind to instruct my system’s circuits to do something with this one. Scrunching my back, I began to lay my head on top of the desk and stared at the wall, like it’s something that will be of use to my situation right now.
I began blinking my eyes rapidly. Was it really Galen? Was it really my best friend?
“Galen. Galen is probably tired and needed space. You can talk to him in another day. You still have enough time.” I console myself, as I continue to cry.
“He’s just tired. He probably is going through enough dilemmas already.” I began to wallow- and the feeling of pitying myself for having to be aware that I am going through something like this began to take over.
I can’t help it. I forced myself to stand up from my chair and went to directly throw my body on top of it. Staring at the ceiling, I began to cry hardly. The silent cry turned into sobs paired with my own mumblings.
“Galen. No. Please understand him. Please, Azaiah.” I tried persuading myself- trying to wash of the idea that he is acting cold towards me. And I am finding his action as a harsh one. I don’t like it.
Closing my eyes, I laid on my bed with the fear of what will happen next. What if drifts away from me permanently? What if he doesn’t want to have dealings of my presence anymore? Am I acting too emotional? I need to hear his voice more, to hear the needed explanation my mind wanted to get from him. I need to hear his reasons. What if he doesn’t want to talk to me anymore and that he will end our friendship for good? Galen cannot do this to me right? He will not do it.
“I still need to ask him with a lot of questions. I need to clarify some things.” The defective vulnerability is evident in my voice. And my cries is making it more difficult for me to gain an appropriate time for my breaths to be back on its normal pace. I stiffened.
“This is so hard.” I put my palm to cover my face.
Roaming my hands through my hair to give it a tugged before I ruffled it because of frustration, I removed my hands. “Why can’t I stop myself from crying?”
“I need to sleep. I still have to go tomorrow.” I murmur in a whisper.
My eyes will get puff. It will not escape my friend’s gaze. If I will not stop now- my eyes will definitely look bad. It will look bad. And I don’t want my friends to notice a thing. I don’t want them to ask me questions. Because I would probably over-explain my thoughts and it will end up with me having to show them that their friend is an ugly crier.
Sliding my fingers back on my face again, I Azaiah wiped my own tears. It’s just the same deed that I have been doing for ages.
I have to stop now or else I will be bombarded with my mom’s question that cannot seem to decrease. She always does give me extra questions. I used to have my secret crying session back then and whenever I get out of bed and she has this eyeing grasp of insinuating that I have been crying all night. I don’t want her to see me like this. Because she will start making assumptions and sometimes those assumptions aren’t even fitting, doesn’t make any sense, or worse her comment will be something hostile.
I need to delude myself that I was not hurt today. That I should not take this hurt to bed. I don’t want this haunting me during my sleep. It will be something tarrying if I saw my assumptions actually happening during the course of my dream. I don’t want to make up with the nightmare to instill in my head that it will happen in the physical.
Galen is Galen. He just need time and space. He can sort things out. Your friend is an intelligent guy. He will be able to think it through. He will be able to find a solution to his problem. And once he’s done he will be back once again. He will come back to you again. Both of you will be spending your time together. He will talk and share everything. Just like during the old times. Both of you can enjoy the day in each other’s company. Just trust him, Azaiah. Trust Galen. He will go back. He just needed time.
“When I wake up, I hope these feelings are gone.”
The will to wish for something like this still came as I close my eyes and let myself be carried away with the dose of sleepiness that appeared in me.