Something inside of me broke
As I pushed myself beyond my limits
For a cause
that wasn’t my own
And that, my friend, is the worst way
To do yourself an injustice.
So find your own purpose,
And walk down that path,
The rest will follow.
And dear lover,
No one is allowed to dream of You,
Your beautiful face,
Or even sense your presence
In any goddamn way.
He doesn’t know that I call him an hour early before I actually want to dose off. An hour gives me time to be accompanied by his deep even exhales as he continues his sleep that I have interrupted again.
I would usually ask myself why he even puts up with my selfish requests; calling every night just because I can’t act like an independent adult anymore after realising that his presence, even when I’m asleep, makes a goddamn difference. But then I remember the answer, which lies within his love that he has constantly showed me and proved to me in the past months.
And now I listen to his grumbly sudden snores, and all I can think of is why am I not in his living room right now so I can jump on him and colonise his handsome face with mini kisses until he wakes up and pulls me to him to give me a tight hug because he wants me to stop bugging his face and also to give him some time to wake up mentally so he can roll me over to the bottom as he situates himself on top of me… and why the hell did this piece go off to a different tangent?
A ghost from the past reappeared
in my dream, last night.
He stayed with me until I was secure,
that his presence is absolute.
Then he faded away,
the same way he drifted off in reality,
and all the insecurities I locked away
screamed at my face.
My brother and Jehan were there,
one in each side,
neutralising my state.
Then a scene of a lecture hall took place,
and I was sitting right at the back with them,
and a faceless man sits right beside me,
a familiar gut feeling,
an unfamiliar touch as his legs brushes against mine;
his words were soothing,
his laugh was begging for mine to form.
He knew of the earlier incident.
He came to rescue my wrecked self.
I’ve met this guy in real life,
Who is the person my subconscious sought refugee in?
Why did I not look at his face
and ignored his presence?
Why did the fear of losing another loved one crawl onto my heart,
leaving me but sheer curiosity,
when I woke up to a pale ceiling.
that in this world
nothing can work
the way you want it to.
It’s a world made for you to adapt,
force you out of the options you really want to choose,
forcing you to work so hard
for you to reach your goals.
You have to work even harder
to maintain the things that you’ve managed to get a hold of.
But there are times,
when you lose things,
and you’re forced to let them go.
I’ve done what I can, so far.
I don’t care anymore
I don’t care for things to happen the way I want them to;
if the world insists in taking away the things I was passionate about,
then i’ll force it to work the way You want them to.
I’ll love You with everything I’ve got.
I’ll make Your dreams come true.
I’ll create a family for You.
I’ll leave parts of me, in case I die before you,
so You won’t feel lonely.
I’ll raise them well, so they won’t trouble you.
I’ll tell them how much You loved you me.
and how I was a fool for not falling for you from the start.
And I imagine the spotlights as stars that are close enough for me to reach.
He thought he imagined her,
but the spilt remnants of her coffee
that stained his bedside table
left a trace of her existence.