Autumn
It was mid-September when you talked to me again. I was a bit flustered, somewhat happy, and a bit frustrated. Why now? Why do you have to talk to me only when she's away? So then I took it as if I'm your shelter amidst the storm of thoughts you have with her. You said that it was over between the two of you. That she was lucky to have someone else sooner. That you want her back but you can't. That you're trying your best to calm this storm raging for months. But why do you have to use me as your home? Your temporary comfort zone. Am I ideal? Someone who can handle the rain running down your eyes, someone who could bring you even the slightest sunshine, or someone who could never leave you the way she did. These thoughts always eat me up while I hold you close to my chest. Letting each teardrop fall, my shirt soaked while you unload.
It was early October when you tried to hurt yourself again. I was angry and helpless. I was angry not at you but at what you did. I was too desperate to run to you, to keep you away from the blade, and to hold your hands tight as I'll never let go. And what's wrong with me was I never want to let go again. Sadness greets me every day since then, well you knew what happened. I wish I could forget. I hope that it was just a nightmare. I was too helpless to keep it to myself. The way I saw the liquid gush from your pulse and how each tear fell aimlessly down my cheeks. I wish that it will all be all right. But still, I thank God for you're alive.
It's mid-October when I realized some things. Some of the things I didn't appreciate when you were around. I missed your greetings of good mornings 'til good nights. How you became mad when I haven't eaten lunch. Those times you put me to sleep with your voice. Your silliness that keeps away the storm also brewing inside of me. It was perfect. It was. Until now that the rain I tried to silenced grew uncontrollably into a storm. I am a mess hiding on those sweet smiles and emoji stickers. I am a mess saying 'Things will get better in time.' I am a mess before you came. And so much of hiding this hypocrisy I'm in. You were also my home. Thank you for the temporary means of a comfort zone. But maybe it would be better if I'll just step outside for a while. I wanted to feel the hurricane before I succumbed to this whirlwind of events I hope I won't cross.
written by: Marie Sandoval
About The Author
"I write when I feel and when I don't want to feel at all. The thing with writing is 'You create your world or either you summon your world to lessen the burden of reality.' It's like oxygen for me, whenever the air was sucked-out of me, it is through writing that I could breathe again- I could live again."
She's Marie Sandoval, a member of the iConverse Team under the subgroup Creative Squad. She believes that we can find inspiration everywhere and whenever she writes, she always imparts a piece of her -hidden in her works. Humble, she details that she still needs to learn more about styles, genres, and wordplay. She usually writes about love, romance, and will soon like to try a mystery. For now, she enjoys making free-verse poems, flash fiction and currently working with a novel of which she's unsure when will be finished. She dedicates her compositions to her friends and sometimes her family. She writes them letters and poems mostly just an expression of who she is. A friend for her is a rarity. She could be acquainted with a lot of people but those that remain were the only ones she could call her friend. It is something permanent, like a tattoo underneath a skin, for she's not in for temporary kinds of stuff, she yearns for things that last.
Temporary -that fleeting moment where you hate to be in. How clarity seems to escape you and confusion engulfs you like an endless pit of the ocean and yet like sand slipping before your eyes. How I wish we all knew then how much temporary can evolve into unimaginable value but only when everything has passed and only then you will come to know. The temporary -a word you'd cherish more than anything permanent.
