February 27, 2013
After just four days of deliberately not
seeing him as a first step to accomplishing my commitment to moving forward to
life and love, seeing him was unexpectedly excruciating still. I thought I
could handle the sudden irregular heartbeats and the mists in my eyes forcing
them all not to fall off my mascara made-up lashes. I actually did for a time. I was able
to fool myself around for eight hours.
But solitude no longer gave me the peace
it used to dawn on me whenever I felt miserable or confused or worried.
Solitude gave me the sudden gush of emotions bursting out of my eyes coming both from
my mind and heart this time. The irregular heartbeats were there again and I
felt again the heaviness in my rib cage, a hollow. I was breathing but it’s so hard to
breathe. My eyes felt sore and warm and wet. But I told my eyes not to give in
to my heart’s desire because I don’t deserve the cry me a river, and he too.
I only saw his back but I certainly knew it was him
for I saw the wrinkles in his polo due to possibly excessive machine washing, which
for most male in the institution I have not seen but only in his uniform, in his
back actually. It was that uniform which one time, I remember cutting with a
scissor a loose thread in his back and advised him to hand wash it instead. The high noon was wordless for us but I know that he knew I was there walking along his back.
I honestly felt that I miss him.
