The wind blows stronger each passing day, making me shiver each moment it pierces through my skin. At times like this, it does not matter if I wore thick layer of clothes; it will never be enough to cease the coldness growing deep within my heart.
Here you are, once again, drowning me with the thoughts of you. I pushed them, only to find myself falling into a hole. I have fought a good fight, it just that I did not last longer. A battle between me and my longing for you, it is still impossible to win.
I admitted, I was wrong. I am stuck.
Overwhelmed, I decided to take a walk. I went to the subway and without thinking of a proper destination, I rode the first train that stopped in front of me. It was supposed to lessen the pain that lingers to my chest, but it is probably not the case now. This was how I met you, four years ago, we were cowards who chose to run away. We did not learn to forgive ourselves, and maybe, that was the reason why we failed. We failed one another.
1st day of November, 2016.
Just like any other day, I found myself sitting on a random seat in the train that I mindlessly stepped in. I have been doing this since I was 17, I was nervous at first, however, when I started to encounter different kinds of people, I knew I will continue going back.
Today is a little off, though. I suddenly thought that my life is heading nowhere. Because I’m already 20, still unsure of what I really want and it scares me. I feel as if I will be like this forever, alone and distant. I did not notice that I’m crying, sobbing uncontrollably. And I forgot that I’m riding a public transportation, then I heard someone spoke, asking for permission.
“Do you mind?”
I stared at you, startled, before looking away and clearing my throat due to embarrassment.
“No. Go on,” I held my breath, struggling to regain my composure, and what irritated me more is that I did not bring anything to help me wipe my tears. I tried using my hand but it was not enough. You suddenly handed me your chequered handkerchief, I gladly accepted it. I inhaled and I smelled your scent, manly, and when I exhaled your scent stayed.
A long moment of silence. It was the kind of silence that did not suffocate me. I uttered a ‘thank you’ and you simply replied a ‘no problem’.
I initiated a conversation, sharing and asking about trivial stuff. I enjoyed every minute, we exchanged hilarious stories and I made sure that this ride will not end without me knowing your number.
My shoulders shook as I cried, a realization hits me, you will no longer appear to offer me your hanky even if I shed buckets of tears. It hurts so bad I needed to grip the hem of my sweater for support. I closed my eyes and memories of you and me flashed.
“You should be kinder to yourself,” you said while puffing out smoke through your cigarette.
I don’t know what is up with me that I called you for a cold and late night walk, as to why I have been spending my time with you since November and it is December now.
“At least I don’t make my lungs suffer,” I scoffed and it made you chuckled.
Silence. Only our heavy breathing can be heard. The quiet streets, there is something tragic about the city at night. After a while, we saw an old abandoned building, we entered and searched for a place where we could sit. We sat there silently, it was enough to give me comfort. We watched the sun rises as the color of the sky changed into yellow. Beautiful. And I wondered: what do you think?
“This speaks so much about life,” you broke the silence between us. It almost made me afraid that you’ve read what is on my mind, but I remained silent.
“I want you to remember that it will not always be dark, the light will soon rise and find its way back to you,” then you smiled at me. If only you were aware that the sun hitting my skin did nothing compare to how much your smile warmed me.
Days turned to weeks, we welcomed Christmas and New Year together. We ran away, we drank ourselves to sleep. 2017 came, everything still stays the same.
When the train stopped, I hurriedly get out. I’m losing it and I have to breathe. I ran, walked then ran, again. I don’t know where I am, exploring around in the long deserted streets on the outskirts at dusk.
23rd day of December, 2017.
It’s been a week and every time we will meet, you will sit somewhere staring into nothingness. Or you will call me early in the morning to drink with you. You seemed to be not yourself.
“You know that you can lean on me, right?”
You smiled and it did not reach your eyes. I wanted to touch your face and ask you what was wrong, but I am patient enough to wait for you. And you know I will not force you. Silence. The first time I hated the silence between us. But I waited, then you cried.
It breaks me to see how broken you are, like you will never be fixed. Like it will be too impossible for you to unchain yourself. I can only listen and embrace you in my arms.
“Tomorrow is my mom 2nd death anniversary,” you whispered as though you are afraid to hear it. “And I am the one who killed her. It is my fault. I killed her,” you are shaking so hard, I tried to convince you otherwise.
“Don’t do this to yourself, please. It is not your fault. It will never be,” I held your face to make you look at me, and you did not bother to hide your pain. It is killing you.
I was scared of leaving you that night. I decided to take you home and watched as you allowed yourself to rest. The morning after that, you greeted me with a genuine smile. I almost got convinced.
“You mean a lot to me. I will be here for Christmas, let’s celebrate together, alright?” you nodded your head and gave me a thumbs-up sign. I laughed then jokingly uttered, “Silly.”
I lost you. I should not have went home. There is not much I can do to convince the saints to bring you back to me. For so long, I have stifled a cry to not call for you. However, another Christmas is approaching and I will not be able to spend it with you. Tell me how to heal the wounds your disappearance left behind, to mend my tattered soul. I wonder what will be your reaction if you found out I started smoking. I can imagine you raising your eyebrows, that’s just who you are. I used to hate when you sometimes treated me like a child. You see, I do not want to completely forget you. The space you have occupied can never be filled by anyone but you.
And tonight, I miss you a little louder.
Hello! I go by the name Alice, under the username @lienric. A graduating senior high school student. I am from Laguna, Philippines. I enjoy doing a lot of things although, I am far from being considered as consistent. Yet I know that we are just trying to survive, and my pets are here to keep me alive. I write when all there is for me to tolerate becomes unbearable... Read More.
The photo used is mine. This is purely fictional. I remember listening to a ramdom song two years ago and writing this (although I was not able to finish it before). I do not usually write a short story hence, feedbacks will be highly appreciated. You might encounter a few errors along the way, pardon me. Thank you for your time!
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You write so well. Damnzzz.
Hello @lienric,
Welcome to the Inkwell. You write emotionally effective prose. The personality of your narrator comes through, and a sombre atmosphere pervades the story. Love comes through, as does sorrow and longing. It is an achievement for a writer to have this impact on the reader.
You ask for feedback. While the story is clear that a separation has taken place, we are not entirely clear as we read as to the sequence of events. We recognize that a meeting occurred on a train. The narrator meets a party who comforts (her?). In the second dialogue we wonder if you have changed POV or if the narrator has now become the comforter. We're not sure why a separation has occurred.
This is such a subjective piece that some of these questions don't have to be answered. The story is about emotion, longing, separation. But still, we are as readers interested in sorting out these answers. Perhaps there is a way in the text for you to clarify some of these points, without disrupting the flow of the story.
Thank you for sharing this with us. We do expect writers in the community to support at least two other authors in the Inkwell. There are many opportunities to write--fiction prompts, non fiction prompts and free writing, as you have done here.
Looking forward to reading more from you (acquaint yourself with our rules just to be clear about the community culture).
Hello @lienric
As I read your piece I felt as though I was on that train with you. There is something about trains. They take us away. The rhythmic motion is soothing, almost like a cradle. You write with great emotion. It will be interesting to see what you do with some of our prompt suggestions. It's obvious you know how to express yourself.
I'm looking forward to reading more from you.