By the Time. [Part III]

By the time you leave, you take a little piece away of me with you.

And things just don’t get to stay in its place anymore. The right side of my bed’s now left untouched. The star mug of your belonging is now left unused. Your corgi Percy, he doesn’t seem to be as happy as he used to be. The ceiling in our bedroom full of the star constellation that you painted with glow in the dark paint is no longer as lingering as it used to.

After you, things just don’t get to stay in its places anymore. After you, I barely recognize myself anymore. After you, I just don’t feel like to live anymore.

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Whelve.

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World lies within your body. That high and low part that makes the world seem so perfect they don’t crook in any way, the freckles on the back of your body, the dimples of your spine, the red marks on your knuckles that was always there everytime you hit them to the walls in frustration, the mole on your nose that people always mistaken as a pierce.

I’ve loved them like a part of myself. I’ve traced them and I’ve remembered every piece of them like the back of my hand. I’ve known you forever. And I’ve never stopped loving them since.

Maybe it was the first time I caught you smoking weed back in eight grade of school, when I was worried sick that you’ll get caught. But you shushed me and told it’ll be fine. So I sat there quietly, watching over your high self. And the later when I think of it, I think I’ve never loved anyone the way I’ve loved you that I feel like I always want to take care of you for the rest of my life.

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By the Time. [Part II]

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By the time you leave, all hell breaks loose.

But as usual, I still go to the coffee shop across the street this morning before going to work, ordering my usual—chamomile tea and a bagel. Weird I know, but I used to hate tea before you. And after you? Damn it, I can’t even let the taste of the tea away from my tongue, for it is one of the too many things that reminds me of you.

I ordered an Uber and left the block. The morning ride to work is always silent. Always as if there is nothing wrong in the first place. Well I know, there’s nothing wrong, it’s just the fact that there was something wrong. You left and that’s what was wrong.

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By the Time. [Part I]

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By the time you leave, your traces stay.

I opened up my eyes for another exhausting day. I sighed in exhaustion, getting up from the left side of the bed where you used to belong in. I looked back to the right side of the bed, hoping for a split second that I might find you back there. But I know it was foolish to think of that as you have left all of you to nonexistence.

By the time my alarm went off, I was already in the bathroom, getting ready to just seize another day, just like how you always said. I looked up to the mirror just to find that reflection of an ugly creature who made you leave that day. I faced her as I pinned down my stare on her bloodshot eyes.

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Solitude of the Moon.

 

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Since I was a kid, I always think that there is nothing more romantic than the love story of the sun and the moon. See they are two creatures that look nothing for the earth but actually have a huge part on earth’s life. Both illuminate the life on earth days and nights, never once they skip. At least, not until the eclipse.

Because eclipse is the only time for the sun and the moon to reunite. They are such an ancient lover, always long for one another but never once could ever approach for longer than they wanted. They were destined to be the lovers who could never be together. Such a bittersweet tale, yet relatable in some way.

See this is the part where I know I should tell you why it is relatable. See, Darling, I used to think that I am the moon to your sun. Not because I want to sound delicate about it, but because the sun is actually more in love with the earth rather than the moon. The sun always shines for the earth, never once he complains about it. The sun knew if he ever looked at the moon for once, his earth would die in cold. So instead, he sacrifices the moon to only then be with the earth forever.

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Tackling Gerascophobia.

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This is something I intended to write for a close friend of mine, who fears adulthood.

Don’t we all do, in our own ways?

It’s because human beings tend to adhere to simplicity. I am not saying that teenagehood is easy—it is very tough for some (including me myself), but adulthood is on another whole level, even more complex, as if hundreds of tangled webs.

We all love the ignorance of youth, the vagueness of teenage dreams. The innocence of “kids” our age, laughing at jokes that leave adults with a big, red question mark clouding over their heads. Wanting to be a doctor just because it is cool and it assures prosperous life, without knowing all the dangers and responsibilities that come along with the profession.

We can’t fathom ever shifting from a stage we’ve held dear all this time, and fears of reaching adulthood—more often that not—come to haunt us.

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Back To The Beginning.

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“That was a great play up there, mate!” Harry shouted at one of his musician fellows, giving his thumbs up in a little less sober state.

“Yeah, thanks, mate.” He fist bumped Harry and walked off the stage.

By the point the crowd getting even more crowded, Harry was not even sober anymore. He laughed through his friend’s not-so-funny joke. He cheered some more shots. He danced through the loud music with some faces he barely knew. After party is never a really good choice to get drunk at, Harry thought.

He passed the crowd right away to the toilet, rushing off through the stall and throw up instantly. He wasn’t very keen himself with this. And he knew he needed to get out from the party right away before he does something stupid. He went out of the toilet, looking at the crowd and searching for a face he knew to get a help from.

“Oh Harry, there you are! People are looking for you. Come on, drink some more.” A girl, he forgot who this was exactly which probably would be some crew from the movie, led him back through the crowds.

“Hey, hey, I need to get right away from here!” Harry shouted, knowing that the loud of the music would beat down his own voice.

“What? It’s barely midnight, Harry. Enjoy some more!” She shouted back.

“No, no, I need to get right away from here! I don’t feel good at all.” He let go of her hand and continued, “Tell Chris I’m off first! Tell him congratulation for the movie!”

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