Wednesday, January 22, 2014


I neglect my novel and stare blankly at the ceiling. Its not that the novel bores me — its just that i have no time to be drawn into fantasy, when reality is much more charming.

I wrap myself under a blanket that sends warmth into my tensed up body. Not as warm as your arms when they are wrapped around me, but tonight this is enough.

Every time the idea of you surfaces, it seems like i cant relax. It seems like every cell in my body blossoms like a flower, it seems like my heart skips a beat. Its a good kind of tensed up though, if you wonder.

So this is how it feels like to be loved. To be in love. To love. This is that feeling everybody writes about. Everybody sings about. Everybody talks about. So this is the feeling of knowing something certain, knowing that there is someone who love you wholly. 

I never thought i would finally end up in this bubble, where i finally found out that what the singers sang was real. That when you are loved, it makes you feel beautiful. And to know that I finally can love too, is even more mesmerizing.

I have always thought it was okay to be alone, that it wouldn't make any difference. I always thought i wasn't born for this kind of thing; i was not worth the love. I was too much for someone out there to handle. 

And i didn't think someone would even bother to convince me that i am worthy enough to fight for.

But here you are now, staying. And it feels wonderful. It warms my heart, it sends heat to my body through my veins. And i didn't realize that i have been in the winter for too long, that i one day need to move somewhere and find my perfect sunny day.

I didn't realize that i was in denial. That i was somewhat hollow. That you were what i have missed all along, the water in my bereft ocean. The lyrics to my instrumental. The key for my keyhole.

But i am still too rigid to believe that this will last. I am still afraid that the sunny day is temporary, and i have to go back to my wintery city, where no sun can be found. I am afraid that when this is over, i will be even more damaged that i already had.

I am still afraid to hand you my cracked heart. Though its wonderful when you promised you will keep it safe, and hand yours to me. 

I see past my white ceiling, i see past through it. I see stars, i see the flawless, far dark. I see you and your smile, and your smell and your crooked teeth. I see you and your rumbled hair, your plain black shirt and how fit my hands tucked into the edges of it so perfectly. 

I see you. I see you far deep, i see that gold heart of yours and the cracks that makes it even more beautiful.

But do you see me?

Do you see me and my tainted heart. My hollowed and flawed heart. The messed up strings you cant untie. The scars, and the band aids? 

If you did, will you still be like this?

Monday, December 30, 2013

Dear, You. (Daisy Part 4)

Hi, Dean

I dont know if you are gonna read this or not, i don't know if you will somehow come to my house and find me this way. Or maybe my mother will find me. All i hope is that somehow you know me too well that you will find this letter slipped between our favorite book. I don't know whether you will read it, all i know is this is my only chance to clear everything out. So if you are, i just want to tell you that i am sorry. Sorry for being selfish and for leaving you so suddenly. For leaving you with so many questions unanswered. 

By the time you are reading this, i know i would no longer be there. I don't know if mother would clean up my room or leave it the way i leave it. And i dont know if my smell is already gone, but i hope your smell on my blanket stays. Because thats the only smell that always reminds me of home. 

I thought about you a lot after the "break up". I cared about you and i will always do. With this letter, i just want to tell you that everything that happened was not your fault. It was mine, and my past that couldn't stop overshadowing me. It was beautiful with you, you were like the clouds that covered the sun. Breezy, easy. Saving me from my own shadow. But then there were times when i was alone, and the sun came up and my shadow showed up again. It felt sickening, like being burnt up by something you couldn't get rid of. I needed you, but i didn't think my existence was needed by the clouds. That beautifully danced in the blue skies. Didn't even need an umbrella to hide from the burning sun. That didn't have shadows. Only fellow clouds joined in the fun, dancing together, happy to make people covered up.

And needing you, and being useless at the same time actually killed me more. I should have known you were better off without me. There are so many other path the clouds needed tosave than only one. And the cloud couldn't stay at the same place forever, it shouldn't. The wind would push you away from me someday, and i was so selfish to push you away before the wind did, because i honestly couldn't take another good bye.

There is a lot of me that is buried deeply. So deep that days of digging would still go in vain. And i thank you for silently understanding me, and not trying to dig it. But i couldn't stand lying to you. It felt terrible.

I don't deserve you and i would never. You deserve someone better. 

I am going to confess something to you. Probably too late, but i don't want to make you feel horrible about yourself and about us. So here it goes.

My mom has been having her liquor addiction since 4 years ago, and since then she was always such a drunken mad woman, day and night. So she was fired atau got sacked from her job 3 years ago. She didn't know how to survive, i was 15 back then. I wasn't really innocent, since my mom always brought her party friends home and got high almost everyday in our living room. I would just sit in my room, trying to sleep with a wrecked doll my dad once gave me. I didn't go to school. All i did was stay at home, and eat food from the refrigerator. My mom would sometimes shout at me when she was sober enough to realize that her food were eaten. I mean, how could i survive? She never even saved me some leftover. I sometimes cry in my bedroom, hanging on my rope of hunger. One day when she was out, i went wondering around the block and found a little library. Since then i always come there and study. Its a long story to tell, about how i got into high school. But thats not even the main point.

So, in the middle of money crisis, because my mom wasn't working anymore, and her drinking habit was getting even more crazy, we didn't have any money left. She would just stay home; shouting and abusing me. Telling me it was all my fault that we ran out of money. 

After days of locking my self up on my bedroom because i was so afraid of her, she talked me out of my room saying she got some money and would buy me food from the restaurant. I was so happy back then, i thought i had my mom back. I happily went out with her, not knowing that she was bringing me to some man who paid her to use me. I was basically a prostitute. I was so frightened, i couldn't fight back. I cried the whole night, i didnt know what was exactly happening. It was so scary and traumatic. I remember the man. He was bald, in his middle 20s. He was nice at first, and then he was my nightmare until now. Since then, my childhood was officially gone. Not that i ever had one.

My mom looked so happy, having money without even doing a single thing. Every night she would drive me to different houses, and pick me up the following morning.

One day i was so tired, so sick, so sad, so depressed with my current life that i had a strength to fight back. I locked myself up. I had plan a runaway, even if i didnt know exactly where to go. I already packed my bag and ready to go out through the window when she broke my door and started pulling my hair. It was painful. I cried and begged her to let me go, saying  that i didn't want to live this way. She stopped after awhile, i thought i already won. But no, it got even worse. She threw me to the car and drove away. Miles and miles. Until we finally arrived at a house. I was prepared to runaway again, i didn't want to do it again. Not that night. Not anymore. But then a young man came up from the house, probably in his 19 or 20. He greeted me with a smile, and my mom left me there without a word. His name was Ryan and i lived with him for 2 months, even  fell for him little bit. We had a couple of romantic dinners, he even flirted with me. But i didn't want to get to any physical interaction, it was all traumatic for me. I was scared to death of physical stuffs. He didn't even push me, so i was grateful. I thought he was my lifesaver. I would have gave him anything to pay him back. Until he told me that someone has already booked me for 3 months in a row. At first, i didn't understand. Until i figured out that he actually had put camera in my bathroom, to put those photos on internet and sell me. He was actually a prostitution dealer. I was hurt, i thought he was a way out. I couldn't run from him, he was watching me intensely. So i was sold again after two months. 

Long story short, i was able to runaway from that cursed house. I didn't know where to go, the only one i trusted was actually evil too. So i came back here, to my mom's house. I was 16, but a lot more grown up than any other 16. By then, my mom already had money from a new dirty business she was running with her drunk friends. And the money was quite a lot. She saw me and shocked. But she didn't care, she didn't need me anymore. So since then i lived with her again, got scholarship with a really hard work, and have been stealing her food supplies from the refrigerator until today. I guess she is now rich enough not to care about how much food i take. 

Thats what my shadow is. A black and white, with drop of tears and untouched by laughters. Its all good. I met you. After 18 years of life, i finally know what happiness feels like. With you wasnt like with my dad, you were more real, more vivid, less vague. 

Thank you, Dean.
Thank you.

For showing me happiness. For everything. For loving me. For accepting me. For leaving your smells on my blankets. For holding my hands through the sidewalks. For covering my head through the fallen raindrops. 

It all was not your fault, okay? 

If anything, you are my lifesaver. The only reason to stay breathing.

I love you, D.


wow, 3 parts and 300 page views! thats awesome hehe thank you. here is the part 4 and i know.. i know it took so long. a lot has been happening in my life. and actually, this part has been done since November, i was just too distracted to post it.

so many many thanks to Farisa Machmud who helped me editing my bad grammar!

everyone show some appreciation for her and follow her twitter @farisa25 xx

thank you for all your support too! some of you have greeted me through my askfm with feedbacks. 

tell me what you think about this last part?


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Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Daisy (Part 3)

Today is officially 2 weeks since the last time i saw her. Two weeks of trying not to smash the lamp on my bedside out of frustration, 2 weeks of trying not to look at the wallpaper on my computer. I just couldn't change it. She was effortlessly beautiful in the picture, her eyes looked straight to the camera reflecting the pure smile she was wearing. The photo used to give me happiness that bursted out too easily every time i peeked a glance to the screen. The last time i saw her was in English class, but we didn't even talk. She didn't sit next to me the way she usually does, and she successfully ignored my stares. She didn't even look at me when i tried to walk next to her in the hallway. She just made her steps even bigger and went out of sight. And then i didn't see her again until today, or maybe couldn't. She didn't come to the classes we both took. My assumption is that she moved her classes to another schedule or day. 

I miss her so bad i couldn't even concentrate on my classes lately. Tonight is a pretty lonely night, i think, as i grab my guitar and play some random chords. The last few days i have been trying to block out my mind and block out my brain. I really dont want to think or feel. Because all they caused me was an overwhelming loneliness. And that loneliness consists of "missing her" and "loving her but not loved back" and "i don't freaking know what to do" and maybes, ifs, shoulds and must bes. I went to bars, even did a karaoke with some drunken boys from school, but even the psychedelia feelings the boozes gave me didn't take her out of my brain. 

I miss the way she smiles at me, the way she stares at me like i am the only one that she cares about. Well at least i thought i was. I couldn't believe i could be trapped in those eyes and smiles. The way she laughs at my jokes, the way she cares about my problems. The way she disgustingly bites the tip of her straw, the way she eats every bit of her food. The way she's mad at me when i ignore her, the way she was annoyed by me because i accidentally broke her lipstick. The way she lets her straight hair loose without curling it or coloring it. The way she laughs while reading her novels or watching funny videos on youtube. The last few months she has been more open to me, more easy to laugh and be laughed at. And to love and to be loved. 

I throw my guitar away and take a sip of my cigar. The opened window let the smokes fly away to the black starless sky. The sound of cars engines roam from outside. Its Saturday Night, time to have some fun outside. But i'm here instead, mourning about my past and wondering about my future. So this is what broken hearted feels like. Sitting in your room at 9 pm on Saturday night, considering whether to get high or to stay sober; to blabber about the pain loudly or to deal with it quietly. 

 Knock, knock. 

 I throw my cigar away to the little trash bin in the corner, "Come in"

The door opens and it shows a girl with curly hair, wearing a yellow cotton pyjamas with a worry in her face. 
"Have you been smoking?" She says as she goes in and sits next to me, leaning her back to the end of the bed.

I hesitate. "Yeah, just one, though"

She shoots me a look, so i add, "I swear!"

"Why are you smoking again? I thought you stopped."
"Since when did i let you to meddle on my business?" 

I didn't mean to be that harsh, i was just so messed up that i was easily annoyed by the way she talked to me. Like i was her child and she was the one who knew everything. Of course she didn't mean to give me that impression too. She is my little girl after all. She is the kind of sister all brothers would want to have. She is a best friend, sometimes a mom. Sometimes a clown, sometimes a teacher. I told her almost everything, after all my guys friends are the type of people you want to have fun with, not suffer with. 

Maybe my mind was too messed up lately that i forgot that i have her, that i have someone to share something with. Maybe im not really alone, after all.

"Its been such a stressful month." I say finally, after a pretty long awkward silentness, "sorry, i didn't mean it that way."

"Its okay. I noticed."

I was amused by her grown up attitude that i almost laugh. "You did?"

"Yeah, you didn't come to my room just to make it messy. You didn't even eat the cake i gave you!" She said while pointing at the nicely frosted cupcake that I put carelessly on the desk next to the door. 

"Im sorry, wasn't really in the mood of desserts."

"Yeah, 'course, you smoke instead."

Suddenly i feel guilty. She tried to cheer me up with the cupcake, but instead i just kept being angry and sad about the one who doesn't care about me and forgot the one who does. So i take the cupcake, rip the box off and start eating it.

"So tell me." She says, as im chewing the last bit of the cupcake.


"What's bugging you."

"Dave." I said. Dave is her current boyfriend, a little fashionista if you ask me. Whats with his collared white shirt... Yet sleeveless.. And his butterfly black shiny tie that looks like its polished every day. His shiny neon green oxford shoes and his soft pink skinny jeans. I dont know what Jen saw in him, his money is my best idea so far.

"No he is not..." She says hesitantly. I shrugged and then reply, "i thought you knew me. I am definitely straight."

"Well.... You haven't gone out of house to have a date with Dee." She says. I didn't know she payed attention to me that close, but i am showered by happiness and guilt. Happy because i am glad i have her, and guilt because i haven't been such a good brother over the last few weeks. So i give her my most sincere smile since i have lost Daisy. I reach out to mess with her hair, but i couldn't resist the urge to give her a big bear brotherly hug. So i hug her, enjoying the struggle she makes in-between my arms to get out of my embrace. 

"You are weird." She says when i finally let her go, "Cmoooon, spill to me!"

The heat of happiness that came out from the hug is now gone. I am back on being miserable. With her now, sitting with her legs crossed, looking at me with care, worry and questions. I can't stand not to cry, the tears i have been holding. I have told myself that i am better off without Daisy, but then here i am sitting with a person who i know won't leave me alone with my problems. So i light up one cigarette and start to sip it. 

"Im sorry. Need it." I say.

"Its ok," she looks understanding now, "that hard, huh?"

I dont say anything for i think 2 minutes, just to prepare my mind to say it out loud for the first time.

"She is gone."


I sip my cigarette again, hoping the smoke would at least make the tears that welled up in my eyes covered up.

"She is gone," i repeat, "and i am the only one who lost."

"What.... What do you mean by gone?" She is terrified, because she loves her too, Daisy is the sister she never had. "Where is she?"

"She is still here. In this town." The horror look has gone a little bit from her face.


"She broke up with me. With no reason. She just left me, without explanations. Without even a proper goodbye! It was like we never happened."

I stop smoking, because i am starting to hyperventilate. Its been weeks since we broke up, but this is the first time i have said it out loud. And all the pain comes rushing back, repeating the day at the cafe over and over again. It feels like cutting your leg with a knife, difference is its your heart and your brain. You are emotionally hurt and broken, physically drained. 

I don't want to feel even the tiniest bit of calm when i see Lyla's shocked and sad expressions, but i can't help it. At least now i know i am not alone.

"But.. Why... How... How could she... No... The hell?"

There is a good five minutes of silence until she finally breaks through.

"Have you tried to talk to her?"

"She doesn't even look at me in the hallway."

"Call her?"

I shoot her a look. And then she continues, "Follow her, bug her until she is annoyed, so that she wants 
to finally talk to you?"

"You don't understand, Lils. There was something between her words that told me it was final. No chance for us. No explanations for me. Asking for them would be like hoping the stars would still be bright in the middle of the day. Its too much and impossible." 

"It/s worth a shot. It still is. Just go and talk to her. Please? For you and for me. Would you rather ask for the impossible now and get hurt which i'm sure you'll get over with, or go ahead without trying and the regret will hunt you down until the end of your life?"

She is exaggerating it of course, but somehow i know she is saying the truth. I should do something. I cant just go on without at least try. So i say, "I'll try." 

"Good," she smiles, "do you want me to go with you?"

As much as i do, i don't want Daisy to talk to me only because she doesn't want to disappoint Lyla.

I finally decided to go to her house the next day, because i didn't catch even her glimpse at school today. 

I get off her bus stop, and walk slowly to her house. The route i have remembered for quite a while now. I still can remember what we usually did when i walked her to her house. We would tell each other stories about weird things that happened at school, it was like we didn't have enough time to tell them all. Sometimes we sing along to her favorite band, or argue about which one is better, her favorite or mine. Sometimes we just walk, off in our own bubble, but somehow happy with each other's company.

A couple of yards before her house, i slow down my pace. I take a deep breath and prepare myself. Its worth a shot, right? At least today i am going to make it clear whether we still have a chance or not. At 
least i wont be left hanging with her biased decision. 

Three steps more.

Here i am. I close my eyes and knock. 

Nothing happens. I knock again.

Still nothing.

Is she home? Maybe she went out, i think. But i realized it was just my excuse to stop trying. What a loser i am. So i knock again, and nothing happens.

I decide to open the door, i remember her telling me she never lock the door when she is home. And it opens.

The house is empty, but somehow i know she is there. So i shout.

"Hellooo? Daisy?"

Still nothing.

I step inside, something smells wrong. I sniff my shirt, it smells okay. I am calling her name, but nothing answers. Not even a breath. I start to feel there is something wrong. Forget to lock the door is not something she would have done. She even sometimes lock her bathroom. 

I go to the kitchen and find dirty dishes piling up on the sink. Oh dear Daisy, where is the old you? I know her mom does this, throwing things and leave them unclean, but she has always been the one who cleans up the mess. 

The house was small, just as precise as i remembered. I used to come here a lot, since her mom  had never been home before midnight. I would help her clean up the dishes, broken booze bottles, her mom's dirty laundries, even sometimes we bake a cake and eat it while watching movies. 

I know she wouldn't be in her mom's room because she said she couldn't stand the thick smells of the liquor, so i go to her room right away. I knock first, i don't want to be rude and make things even worse by trespassing. I knock three times already, still nothing. I don't know what gotten into me, but i decided to step in. 

I don't know what i saw first, the feet or the head. The hanging feet i guess. And then the face. And then the broken vase on the floor. But all i know is now i am crying, calling her name. Trying to get her down from the rope. I am screaming, screaming the hell out of my lungs. I don't know how to breathe. I don't even ask "why has she done this" because all i am thinking is that i have lost her for good. Forever. I hug her cold body, screaming and crying, touching her dry hair, crying more, screaming for help, throwing things around. I look at the rope that hangs from the ceiling, and scream at it. "I FUCKING HATE YOU!" And i don't know why i hate the rope. Whatever. It took her life. It took her from me! Her body is already rigid, i hug her tighter, trying to warm her with the heat of my body. She smells, but i don't care. I am hugging her. Tighter and tighter. I scream help but i cant even make out the words through the pain. Shit! Shit! Shit! I could have got here earlier, skip school, or fasten my pace. Fuck! She is gone and this is because me. I am late for her when she needs me most. I hug her even tighter, even when it is not possible. My tears on her beautiful dead white face. And i wipe my tears that dropped on her face because i feel like a dirt and i want her to be perfect the way she is. I can't even see her because seeing her only reminds me that this is all my mistake. So i put her on the bed and cover her with blanket. I think i am losing my mind. I go to the bathroom and wet a towel, come back to her and wash her up. She needs to be perfect. She can't touch me, i am shit. I look at the rope and that second i know what i need to do. I am now gripping the rope so tight, almost put my head to the hole when suddenly people are rushing in and pulling me away from that bloody thing. They start to understand what is happening. I try to reach the rope again but somebody is gripping my hands tight. I am screaming FUCK YOU LET ME DO THIS YOU DONT UNDERSTAND hundreds times and they still wont let me. So i try to smash my head to the wall and more people start to guard me. I see someone on the phone, and people are now surrounding Daisy. I try to find something sharp around me but nothing is useful. I am kicking, screaming, crying, being angry as angry as i could be. I just dont want to live this life without her. I dont want to live with pain, emptiness and guilt. Its all my fault. MY FAULT! let me kill myself! I say. And then people are throwing me out of the house, i hear ambulance. Some woman injects something to me, and i am out. 


alright so the original plan was to make Daisy divided into three parts. But it seems like it will be too long, so i guess i'll see you next time for the final part! explanations of WHYS will be provided lol. she dont die for nothin. love yous :) thank you for the supports!

i am hoping to get feedbacks from you, you can click this link >askfm< and give me some. means a loooot. oh and you can probably tell me what i should write next? give me a couple of sentences to start my story. thankyouuu xx

Thursday, November 7, 2013

Daisy (Part 2)

Dad promised to stay, but he left. Ryan promised to stay, but he left too. I guess i am scared that Dean will leave too, so i shoo'ed him away before he could leave me, because then i can have more time to deal with the emptiness of his presence. The hollow in my heart. No... my life. Because he has been there for the last couple of amazing months. From day to day.

I don't believe that time can heal you. I believe that time teaches you how to go on with sorrow. Because thats what time has done to me in the past; went forward even if i missed my Dad so much. Even if i suffered from the empty space he handed to me in a sudden, without a single friggin clue. One day he gave me a piggy back ride, the next day he was gone. Without goodbyes, without i love yous, without i'm sorrys, without i will miss yous. Even if i hated Ryan for what he did to me, i went on. I didn't think i could, but time gave me an opportunity. It took weeks, even months to realize that i couldn't stay behind with the memories. I needed time. And that's why i scooted Dean away earlier, before he even had a slight chance to think about leaving me. Because the earlier it happens, the more time i have to get up. I may sound selfish, but it was the most logical thing to do. 

I'm scared. The moment i said the sentence that made our relationship gone into dust, i have been scared. I am now back to the phase where i hate myself and i hate my life. And i hate everything. And i am blaming myself for being so stupid because i let go the only thing that is worth having in my life. I am starting to think that it wasn't Dad's or Ryan's fault, it was mine. Maybe i was too ignorant to realize that i was the reason why they left. Because everyone that mattered to me eventually left. And i know that i cant get through it alone, but i don't have any Dean anymore who would listen to me with his understanding dark eyes that absorb my sadness. Who would embrace me with his protective arm that never fails to make me feel like i am protected and perfectly safe. Who would stroke my hair and tell me that everything is going to be okay and he is there for me, and he always will be.

I remember being happy with him. Being so happy that i wouldn't trade it for the world. He was there filling the hollow my Dad left for me. The space i have been emptying since the day Dad left me. He was there being my Mom, stroking my hair, making me soup when i was sick, worried-sick about me when i couldn't be reached by phone. When all my real mom did was passing out and throwing up because she had too much drink the night before. He was there being my best friend, helping me with homework, working out with me, laughing with me, and we even did some hot-gossip sessions. He was being my boyfriend, the best boyfriend anyone could ask for. He accepted me the way i was, and never ever try to change a single thing about me.

But then couple of days ago happened. 

I was leaning my head over his broad shoulders on the bus rides home after school. He was wearing the shirt i had bought for him. He knew i liked it when he wore that. He was stroking my arm idly, and i began sleepy. So i dozed off.

Suddenly i felt a hand rubbing my arm quickly, "Hey, wake up you sleepyhead." And then he grabbed my hand and lead me to get off the bus. I was still half conscious back then. He held my hand, and we walked to my house. I'm starting to wake up fully. And then 5 minutes passed, we turned left, and then right, and we arrived at my house. But it was all usual. He always hold my hand, he always walk me to my house. But something unusual happened afterward.

Right before i went to look for my key inside my tote, he grabbed my hands and looked me straight in the eye. I was melted by the way he looked at me. I wasn't stupid. I knew that kind of look wasn't free for anybody, that was the kind of look you throw on to someone special.

He then suddenly put a necklace on my right palm. I was confused, but at the same time overwhelmed by happiness.

"Did you win a lottery or something? Or are you amnesia? My birthday was 3 months ago, Dee." I said smiling, big time. I couldn't help it.

He smiled back, still holding my hands with his. "No. I was just passing this store and i saw it. I thought it would look good on you." He seemed a little shy. Oh God, he looked so cute. He looked like a puppy from the shelter that you just couldn't leave without bringing him home. Then his smile got wider. "Can i...?" He said shyly while touching the necklace. 

"Yeah, sure." 

After he put the necklace around my neck, it was the first time i really paid attention to it. The pendant was a light wood craved into a D and the rope was plain black. It was simple, but meaningful. It wasn't gold or anything, but it was beautiful. And i mean it.

"Thank you. Its beautiful."

"Your welcome." He said, while stroking his neck like it was itchy.

"Think about it as a promise. A promise i am making to you."

I didn't respond right away, i wanted him to continue. "I want you to know that i will always be there for you, through your ups and your down. How do i make this not to sound too cheesy?" He grinned, "screw it. I know people say this thing a lot like it doesn't have any meaning, but it does for me. So when i say i care about you and i want to be the one who wipe your tears away, i want you to know that i mean it. I don't want you to go through horrible phases like the first time i met you again, but i know its inevitable. So here i am, promising you that when your world is crumbling down, i will be here and help you get up to your feet. I may not be perfect. But i am trying to be one. For you. Do you believe me, Day?"

I didn't know what to say. So instead, i was just smiling half-heartedly. 

Do i?

Do i believe him?
Should i believe him?

It was unexpected and overwhelming - both in good and bad ways. I was afraid. Well, i am afraid. As what i have said; i've always been. I wanted to believe him, i really did, but i couldn't. Something inside of me just keep pushing him away. 

I was just starting to build up my life again after all that happened, and giving my heart and trust onto something would only give them the ability to crush my life into pieces. Again. And I'm so tired of breaking, of being so vulnerable. I am so tired of getting up and start all over again. 

I have this thing with promises. I used to believe in them. Let myself to lean on them. Not depend on it, but something i rely on. But how can i trust them, when they have always been broken in the past? How can i let myself believe in it without being completely fooled? 

But all the doubts aside.... there's a question i have been really scared to think about. And scared to know the answer.

Besides all the craziness that is going around my mind,
if he was honest, and meant his promise, 

do i deserve him? 


sorry for the late post :) i know that its been almost a month teehee but a lot has been going on. see you in the next part, probably next week??! who knows. x

Saturday, September 28, 2013

Daisy. (Part 1)

"I think we need to stop... Doing this." She says, before drinking her soda from a pink paper straw. She is sitting with her legs crossed, her hands holding the soda can from both sides. She lets her back leans on the sofa, trying to look as comfortable as possible, when in fact, she really just want to run and curl in her bedroom, wrapped up by her yellow bedcover, safe and sound, and stare blankly at the beautiful sky that never stops to amaze her.

The boy who is sitting right in front of her blinks his eyes multiple times, like trying to double check if she was really saying that. He looks so shocked, even though he isn't trembling outside, his eyes tell you that he is trying to hold on before crumbling down.

"What do you mean... 'With this'?" He finally says. It wasn't fully a rhetorical question, it was half that, and half confusion. He didn't know that it was coming, and he didn't think it would. It was completely out of the blue, or maybe he was just too blind to see.

The girl starts to shake a little, her eyes don't water, but it doesn't mean its easy for her. She sips her soda, and curses herself in her mind. Why did she order soda? She already is having a hard time gulping her own saliva. She needs water. She needs water. But she doesn't have time to order, because the longer she stay, the harder things will be.
"You know," she says, uncrossing her legs. And iron her perfectly neat blouse with her hand. "Us."


Dean's Point of View

Later that afternoon, I got home late. Still under my curfew, but late. Not that mom minded. She knew i went to a cafe after school, and i promised her to get home at 3 to help her with something. But I got home at 5, with such a soulless expression. I guess she somehow knew that i wasn't okay, so she let me go.

After 'she' broke up with me at the cafe, i went for a long, long walk. I walked until my feet hurt. I walked until i thought i heard my shoes crying for help. I walked through a couple blocks before i realized that I was heading to the direction of her house. Maybe it was out of habit, because i always walk her to her house, well, until today. Or maybe it was just a random coincidence. Or maybe not.

I don't even know.
I don't even know if she torn my heart into pieces.
I don't even know if it was a break up or not. Because we never really declare ourselves as a couple.
I don't even know.

Its 11.30 pm now. I have tried to sleep. Trust me, i did. But I just couldn't. I'm sitting on a black rug, the only thing that protects me from the cold floor. I stare blankly at the starless sky, somehow enjoying the way the wind blows my hair through the wide open window. I cant seem to focus my mind.

I miss her.

I didn't even realize how dependent i am toward her for the past few months until i lost her.


I don't know if its because of her name, or its just her. But she blossoms like a daisy. She is sweet. She is funny. She is smart. She is sharp. She is sensitive. And she is bright, like the yellow in the daisy. She brings brightness to her surroundings, like the white that surrounds the yellow. She makes me feel good. She makes me laugh. She makes me happy.

She is beautiful. And I don't think she knows it.

Her eyes. They are blue, and i can see ocean through them. They are pure, calm, and honest. They are like a bottle of water in the middle of a drought. Refreshing and needed. Something i can rely on. Something truthful.

But those honest eyes are too honest to lie. I, once again, don't know. I don't know if its because i know her too well to notice, or because those blue eyes are just so honest. So pure, so easy to see trough.
She is more than what she seems. She is like the layers of a rainbow cake. Each layer has a different touch in it. She is more than the white icing and the rainbow sprinkles. You swim deep through her and you will find the color in her. She is colorful, but unfortunately, she embraces the dark colors too.
I know there is something behind her smiles and laughs. Sometimes i caught her off guard, when her eyes lingered on nothing. On those times, i could see her suffering her own battle inside herself. Her eyes were empty, and i couldn't find the blue ocean that i loved. On those times, i thought i was gonna lose her.

But no. Those lovely blue eyes always come back to me. And I was grateful for that. Even though i knew that she was still fighting, and that she wasn't healing, I was grateful.

I know she has been hurt deeply. I know she is broken inside. I know she is vulnerable, but most importantly i know that she is strong enough to win this battle on her own. She never told me what was bugging her, what made the ocean gone. I didn't press her, but I was waiting. I was waiting for the moment when she is ready and tell me her sorrow. And I will be there to help her get up, and i will be there to band aid the scars. And I will be there to see her smile.

I remember the first time i saw her. I was looking for a book at the school library when i heard sobs through the rotten racks. It sounded like a desperate cry. I didn't know why i went to her and why i tried to cheer her up even if i didn't know her. Maybe it was because it sounded like a cry for help. Maybe i was just so bored wandering around doing nothing.

Whatever the reason was, I'm glad i did it.

First she didn't even want to look at me. She just covered her wet face with her hands. I remember reading her one poem from the book i was holding for Mr. Flinstoner's class. It was about crying and pain or something, it revolved around those things. And then she finally looked at me with confusion... And amusement. She looked at me the way stereotyped cheerleaders see English Class geeks who wear old, ugly, oversized glasses. But in a surprisingly pleasant way. At that moment, i remember being mesmerized for the first time by her beautiful eyes. And i saw, or maybe hallucinated, a liiiittle pinch of happiness between those teary eyes. At least i made her stopped crying.

The memories seems vague after that. We talked a lot since the day i rescued her from her heartbreaking cry for help. I mean.. More like i talked a lot. She just sat there in front of me at the cafe, which was 5 minutes away from school. She sat, listened, sometimes laughed at my story, sometimes she gave me a smile. But it was more than enough.

I didn't know why we hung out together. I didn't know why i liked to tell her irrelevant stories of my life that i usually didn't bother to tell anyone else. Maybe it was because i was feeling alone after being dumped by Amanda, my crazy ex-girlfriend who broke up with me because she liked my muscular neighbor who was living exactly at the house next to mine.

The break up lasted only a minute or so. Amanda came up to me with one hand tucked around my neighbor's muscular arm, and told me i was boring and she needed an adventure in her life so she has thought over this all night and she thought breaking up was the best way. And then she left, her hand still tucked around the muscular arm. I could see his biceps through the tight tee he was wearing.
I was hurt. I really cared about her. And I wanted to cry and scream at her face because i was hurt. And I wanted to set a fire to the damned house next to mine. And I wanted to tell her how much i cared and actually liked her and i would have done anything to be more "adventurous" for her. And i would have trained hard to have those biceps for her. But I didn't do anything. Instead i was becoming this little desperate guy who went to school just to daydream about the possibilities of me and her through the classes. Until Mr. Flinstoner noticed that i didn't pay any attention to his speech about how Shakespeare changed the world. So he gave me 'special' assignment to write a poem about my feelings. And that's what brought me to the library that afternoon.

Maybe i came to her because i saw me in her. Maybe because i felt like she represented my own cry-for-help. Like if i helped her, i would feel better myself.

I dont really know when we became so close. I didn't even realize when she became more open to me. It was like a waterfall with her. Everything dropped down, easy, no burdens, like it was meant to be. I talked a lot, but she talked a lot too. And we listened to each other.

Everyday after school, we would just sit at our favorite cafe, at our favorite spot which is in the corner next to the giant window. She liked it there. She said she loved watching people on the streets, to remind her that the world didn't only revolve around her. That there are people and their own problems, and that she was fortunate to have me to get through hers. And I was happy to hear that, even if she didn't tell me what was hers. And I once again mesmerized by her. Not with her eyes this time, it was by her. Her shredded heart that still has a room for love, care and thoughtfulness.

Her favorite drink was soda, and i reminded her that it wasn't healthy... Practically everyday. And she would just roll her eyes, and sipped her soda some more. We would just sit there enjoying each other company. Sometimes we talk about our past, our present, and our dreamy future. Sometimes we just sit there, doing homework. Sometimes she reads novel and i play games on my laptop. Sometimes we just drink and eat, enjoy the music that plays through the speakers. Her favorite part is always the rain. She smiles whenever the rain starts to fall down, like she was opening a Christmas gift from Santa.

I don't know when i started to become attached to her. Or her to me. We somehow started to talk on the phone right after we got home, because we missed each other's presence. We started to hang out at weekends. We went to the park, she accompanied me to Nike, or i accompanied her to Topshop. And then i started to care and like her more than i should, and i thought she did too.
Until today.