“When I hear this song, I feel my heart falling apart. It’s like it remembers something extremely painful, something very sad that happened many many years ago. If only my eyes remembered, tears would start falling. That’s the kind of feeling I get. I can’t explain it; no one can. It’s sad, yet it’s happy at the same time. It’s like missing a friend you will never see again. Yes, this is the feeling this song conveys. It’s as if you’ve lost the most precious person in your life, yet you’re happy. You’re happy because you knew them. It’s like I could never forget, and could never remember. It’s like a dream I loved. My hands shake, my stomach aches, my head spins. Everything becomes blurry, and only the song is shining. It reminds me of the light of a firefly, the kind you see in a hidden forest during summer. I love this song. When I hear this song, I feel my heart waking up.”
I want to love enough to loose my cool.
She was 17, he was 24. He held her little fingers in his palm, firmly. It was love none the less. They had met on a rainy day like this one. He had forgotten his umbrella. Taking cover under some awning, he waited for a few minutes in front of a music shop. Then she came out, slightly bumping into him as she opened the door. He looked at her with empty eyes, just like he always did. She apologized and took out her umbrella. She was already on her way, but something bothered her. She turned back and looked at him. Stared. Two minutes, three minutes. Then she offered him her umbrella. ‘A quick walk until you can get to a station, maybe. You seem down.’ That’s all it took to convince him, like he was waiting for her to ask. This wasn’t the first time someone had offered him something. He was the pretty type, already sick of women. But he wasn’t bothered by her. She didn’t care either. Taking the long way, they didn’t talk. They walked; just walked until the rain had stopped. ‘Now you look better. Take care!’ she said before leaving. And smiled. A smile so pure he had never seen before. He couldn’t even ask her name.
So he waited in front of the same shop, every day. A week, two weeks, three weeks, and she finally came. She didn’t even recognize him; walking past by. ‘Do you know what time is it?’ he blurted out. ‘It’s five.’ she said before walking away. Another two days and she was back. This time, he was sleeping on the sidewalk. ‘Mister’ she whispered, ‘you should go home already. It’s not spring anymore and you might have a sun stroke.’ He opened his eyes; she truly was worried. ‘I’ll go home if you promise to have some coffee with me first.’ It was wrong of him to be this bold, she wasn’t like his usual girls. She was scared, she didn’t come to the shop for a few weeks.
Then, it was the middle of summer. She appeared out of nowhere. He was still there; sitting, waiting. She looked the other way. He never gave up. After a while, she couldn’t take it anymore. ‘Why are you here all the time?’ she asked. ‘Is your house near, or did something bad happen?’ It was the same look on her face from the rainy day. Worried, but gentle. It was just what he needed. She was what he needed. So, for once in his miserable life, he told someone how he really felt. He told her she was kind and he did not want to lose her. She smiled and said ‘That’s more like it. I’ll have some coffee with you if you promise to be honest first.’
Suddenly his world wasn’t so blank anymore. His eyes were not expressionless, nor were his words. She was only 17, but who cared? Who could have known that love could save even the likes of him. Walking together, talking for hours. It was pure joy. The smell of her hair, her small figure, her face when she was embarrassed; he loved them all. He asked for nothing more, because it was enough. She was only 17, yet she had saved him. She was more mature than all the ‘ladies’ he’d known. Lying together on the sofa, he held her little fingers in his palm, firmly. She was 17, he was 24. But who noticed?
“It’s because it makes me sick to realize I’d still want to come crying to you. I can’t stomach the feeling I have when I remember your smiling face. I despise every single bit of your long, pale, gentle fingers. It’s irritating how your hair is always perfect on rainy days.
And what I hate the most is the part where you understand. You understand everything, you see it all with your patient and forgiving eyes. It makes me feel pitiful. So small, so useless; I feel like you take my strength away. I fall, I become vulnerable. You are my weak point. You are the reason why everything’s happened.
It’s painful and it’s so sweet. And it’s so sad, because it can never work. It can never be; because I’m not like you and because you’re so much like me. Do you see? It’s because it makes me sick; it’s because I can’t accept being so weak. I can’t be this person who plays with people’s feelings and throws them away and regrets it later and change my mind.
I’ve changed my mind far too many times. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I hate you.”
A place where the nights are purple and not blue.
A place where the sky is always lit and smoky, where the sky is never dark and dull.
I want to look outside my window and see the deep deep galaxy. I want to see beautiful tones of pink. I want to see ‘hope’.
I want my rooftop. I want an endless amount of green tea and jasmine tea. I also want honey. I want never-ending springs and skies full of stars at night. I want fresh air and I want peace. I want the quiet life with a book and a bed. I want pet birds that are never mine. I want a place where I belong, which also belongs to me.
