What Comes Between Silence and Solitude

I told myself that I’m not going to do this, that I’m not going to post my thoughts on the Internet. But since I know that I have no followers here in WordPress and that no one, just no one, would want to waste their precious time in reading my thoughts, I decided to go and give writing another try. After all, this desperate person is desperate for an absolution. So where else am I gonna go?

I came to class an hour late earlier this morning. Perfect. Thanks to my alarm clock: it didn’t ring, it didn’t wake me up. I tried catching up with my professor. I tried focusing my attention to his words, tried ignoring his distracting and somewhat out-of-the-situation giggles, tried to decipher what Socrates wanted to pinpoint in his dialogues and above all, tried to shun the voice of that beautiful boy in class. Of course, that was not possible. And after countless attempts to set aside the fact that he was in the same room as I was in, I still failed to ignore his presence.

Stupid girl.

I had every intention to walk up to him earlier this day and have a conversation with him about the Dialogues of Plato, about politics, about the theories of the soul, and perhaps about the weather. I think I would love to have a conversation with him about nothing. I really wanted to ask him out for dinner and movies tonight because I just want to and because it is Tuesday. I looked down on my feet to gather every courage to talk to him and to collect the words that I would say to him. But when I looked up, he was gone.

I tried not to run after him in the hallway. That would make me look too pitiful and desperate. But seriously, I don’t think there’s something wrong with me asking him out for dinner and movies. After all, we used to do it before like some kind of a routine, a habit. We used to go out on Tuesdays for dinner and movies. We used to spend a huge chunk of time exchanging gibberish thoughts about everything under the sun. We used to talk about philosophical matters and how I enjoyed such conversations. I guess I got pretty accustomed to those Tuesdays nights that I forget that things do not remain as they are, that things do change.

Stupid heart.

It breaks me to think of his absence. I just want to talk to someone, someone who makes sense, someone who knows what I want to talk about, someone who understands, someone who agrees, or better yet, disagrees to my opinions. He does those things with such perfect flair, with such intensity, that I couldn’t help but fall in love with his every word. It’s pathetic, isn’t? How I think about him all the time when I know for certain that he doesn’t even think of me at all.

Okay. I think I’ll cut this pathetic play of words for now and perhaps find a better way to set aside his memories, just to give myself a space for breathing. Maybe in the end, I’ll realize just how stupid it really is to lie in bed alone, in the midst of a deafening silence on a Tuesday night, and wait for a phone call that will never come. Maybe in the end, all the love that I have inside will melt as quickly as forgetting and all the pain will turn into anger, into hate, into bitterness for all the days and the months I have spent waiting for him to notice. Maybe in the end, I’ll end up in the same state of oblivion, just like what happens every time I meet a boy that captures my attention and makes me fall head over heels in love. But those boy — those beautiful boys — they come, they smile, they steal your heart, they leave. It’s always as simple as that.

I would like to believe that there’s still hope for tomorrow. People always say that the right person will come at the right place and in the right time. But when and where is right? People always say that someone will come and save you for a better day, someday, somehow. But then, you come across thousands of strangers the moment you step out of the door. How would you know that he is that one your heart has been waiting for?

But no, I’m not going to wait anymore. I think I’m done. I think I should start forgetting, for the nth time. And when he comes back to tell me that he cares, when he throws all his lines again like a really good actor in a stage play, when his gleaming smile blinds the insides of my heart again, I think I’m going to flash a fake smile at him, joke around like I don’t know him, ask for his name like he’s a stranger to my heart, and pretend that I don’t remember the memories when in fact they were never forgotten.


5 thoughts on “What Comes Between Silence and Solitude

  1. Just read this a few mins ago, and oh my gosh, the feels, YOUR feels, were intense. I love how you write and I love how artsy you get, both in your blog and on IG! More power!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hey Kim, thanks for reading. I guess I was a bit sentimental when I wrote this haha.

      So glad to meet you on IG too and gonna look forward for more of your reviews. Thanks for dropping by my blog. 💕

      Liked by 1 person

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