The crisp, earthly scent of grass pervades the thick air hanging in silence after the last droplets of rain. A young man with a nicely angled jaw, pleasant features framed in thick black locks, blissful in his gait, smiles kindly approaching her. His arm reaches down to ruffle the hair on the bobbing heads at his side and guides them along as they toddle in her direction. She allows herself on her knees, nevermind the soiled trousers, greeting them with the warmest smile she can muster and picks one of them – his little boy – up. Hello there. The notable resemblance is not surprising, she reminds herself, yet what she sees when shuttling her gaze back and forth of them hints at the truth she has chosen to disregard all these while. Your mother must be beautiful, she muses.
A grey melody begins to nudge at the happy picture, from the way its low, solid and unusually soothing notes – like the cold of the rain amplified auditorially – are slipping into place so much so it’s coming off like a requiem. Melancholy spells the loss of a love that exists nowhere beyond her subconscious, is never made known and will never be for a lifetime. For a moment she observes him toying his silver ring fitted snugly on his long finger, his scintillating eyes now softened to expressive orbs.
Her hug on the boy tightens – dry lips alike – returning the man’s smile as he looks up. And that is when she lets herself drown in the sorrowful tune, wills the twinge of pain to go unnoticed and, exhales unsteadily into the comfort of the pillow, albeit slightly damp.
tbc..
Freedom-seeker,
in retrospect, although I would hate to admit, the meaning behind the past encounters had held no more significance than a pocketful of air; were no more than a figment of the invisible creative clockwork that runs in my head. Reality check: imaginary moon.
The paper heart has been shredded but then again, it’s just paper. I would make stickers out of it if it wouldn’t stare me in the face, as though mocking at the yesteryears in which I had hoped, anticipated, yet failed to read you in the process. My dreams are gonna come true. I wish you happiness and at the same time, I do wish our paths will never have to cross again. When love and hate cancel each other out, everything equates to nothing, nullifying along with it the smiley in the text, a quote, your lingering scent, a poke in the cheek and the cardigan. That’s right.
If I say it out loud, that’s when it’ll really be over. I’ll still do; it makes me feel more human..
あなたの目はきれいです。
正直に言えば。
好
き
だ
っ
た。
Do you like to disappear from me so much?
I wish I could read your mind.
Reality check: imaginary moon.
Today I flew to the moon, and back again, only to realise the moon was only imaginary. Something I wish for that doesn’t quite exist in reality. Although this might seem like a form of self-deception based on a simple misleading idea, I thoroughly enjoyed the journey.
Looking at stars along the way, I was slowly falling back into the memories of the time when the moon shone most brightly, almost blinding my vision as I convinced myself to divert from it. I did not know if it was right or wrong, but time has caught up since then.
Today the moon shone gently, beckoning, so for once I won’t turn away.
To put it in words would be too much – IGAMCOY. It might only last for a moment, but because moments are what we live for, hasn’t it become so very important?
I flew to the moon, and back again, only to realise the moon was only imaginary. But if one day the moon came and told me that it’s real, I would gladly believe.
And hope it’s here to stay.
