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20 October 2016

[Fiction] Occhiolism

A minute pass midnight. She decides to step down her bed as she gives up from making herself fall asleep. Maybe a cup of hot milk can help, she thinks. She has to sleep. Tomorrow will be another busy day, she can’t be late.

Her eyes wandering around the cabinet in the kitchen. The milk used to be in the second drawer, but it isn’t. It takes more than 10 minutes just to realize that the milk already used up and she has nothing left. 

She leans on the kitchenette as she takes a deep sigh. Suddenly she feels empty. The emptiness she cant even explain. 

It’s just a milk. What is so saddening of not having a milk? She asks herself. If she wants it so bad, she can just take her jacket and drive her car to the 24 hours convenience store near her house. But she doesn’t, she sits on the nearest chair she could find instead. She feels stupid as a tear drop in to her cheek, but she can’t stop it.

She knows, everything is not right.

“We’d better off this way. You with your life and me with mine.” She remember everything that person said. She remember the way that sentence cut deep her heart and left her an unhealed wound. Even after all this time. 

“Don’t you dare compare yourself to him. You don’t love me like he does, you never did.” She remember that nothing came out from her mouth listening to the cruel sentence. Just her tears fall out from her eyes to respond. 

Do I really never love that person? She asks herself again and again. She cant come out with any answer.

But if I really don’t, why I feel so empty? Why it feels so wrong? She cant understand herself.

All she knows is that she never hate that person, no matter how much that person wronged her. And deep in her heart, she knows that, so do that person. That person won’t hate her despite all the bad things happened to their relationship.

She looks at her reflection on the kitchen’s window. She has that person eyes, and smiles (when she smiles). And she knows she would feel fine now if she could see that person’s smile, at least, if she could sense that person presences.

She misses that person. She unexpectedly misses that person. 

She feels like she would do anything to turn back the time, before the big war started to split them up. She feels like she would do anything to shut her old self up from her big mouth and ruined everything.

Yes, she wants that person around so bad she would give up everything she believes she’d done right.

She doesn’t need being right. She’s fine with being the wrong one as long as she could has that person back.

She doesn’t need to be a winner, if winning means losing that person.   

But suddenly her ego strikes her back. No, I did wrong but that person was the one who draw the line. I did wrong but that person tortured me, not just once, but many times. I deserve an apology. 

She gives herself up to the tears. She wonders which one would fill up this emptiness in her heart, an apology from that person or apologizing for something she’s not sorry. 

Whichever the answer is, it must be harder to be done than buying a milk in the convenience store, especially with swollen eyes.

After all, a milk won’t ever solve her problem, her bigger heart will. 

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