You learn to like someone when you
find out what makes them laugh, but you can never truly love someone until you
find out what makes them cry. Loving someone is not only about the feeling, the
sensation and the romance itself—but
something much more, something that teaches, parishes, and grows.
She cried today. It kind of shocked
me, because she never cries. At least she always puts on a smiley face during
school hours. I love the way the end of her lips curl into a wide grin with her
eyes becoming so small only two curved lines are visible. It seems like she
adds joy to everything she feels and does, and the happy vibe lets her smile so
freely.
Though I can tell she doesn’t want
to smile anymore.
Describing her as the sun seems
accurate, always being so bubbly and carefree, but inside, she’s just another asteroid.
A lonely asteroid that is.
I never noticed, until she cried—that
she’s been acting, faking and hiding her inner self. I kind of understand, because
I’m a little like her, too.
Well, I used to. Now, I have people
important to me, people that I can trust and protect, people called friends. I
would like to be her friend, but she only sees me as a perverted, self-centered
and naughty classmate. I tend to tease her too much, but the truth is, I’m sweet on her. I want to be beside her,
want to feel what she is feeling because I understood how it felt to be alone. I
can perceive that much from staring at the back of her head and the way she
stares out the window with an unreachable look.
Just like her, I made up a wall that
is exactly the opposite of what I’m feeling and thinking inside. Patience is my
priority, and being sensitive and over thinking too much are my negative
straits. Maybe, she’s a little like that, too.
I don’t know what to say to her. She’s
right in front of me with her head down, trying desperately to keep calm. It’s
hard, and I know she’s fighting with emotional self. It’s predictable, since
the guys practically bashed out words because she couldn’t act. I’m not good
with words, and we’re not really close, but I refrained from adding oil onto
fire like my usual self. I feel bad seeing her like that. It’s not her problem
that she is shy on stage. Everyone just needs to see themselves in her state!
The sky is dark and gloomy,
dragonflies are flying everywhere. A thundershower is coming up. It looks like
the end of the world outside, yet it’s fascinating, the natural landscape. This
weather is simply a great masterpiece of the sky. “Hey.” I tap her shoulder.
She looks at me, her eyes a little watery.
I pretended I didn’t see and pointed
outside the window. “Do you have an extra umbrella?”
“No.” She mouths. “I don’t even have
one.”
“Then what are you going to do? What
are we going to do?” I grin a little.
She forces out an awkward laugh and
turns back to face the front. “Get rained on, easy logic that is.”
Her warm aura from the sun has
simply distinguished, leaving the planet cold and dreary. It seems like she has
given up, being crushed by herself. It seems like she is stressed out about her
authority being crushed on stage, but she can only laugh it off and pretend
that it doesn’t bother her, yet now she can’t seem to pay attention to anything
else—despite the fact that she wants to. To distract herself from humiliation.
“Look what I found.” I poke her
again.
“What?” She asks.
And I show her an umbrella. “Where
did you get that?”
“We got pitied.” I chuckle. Truth to
be told, I did bring an umbrella. I wanted her to feel like someone is in the
same state as her, so she won’t be as sad. I’ve been learning quite a few tips
about psychology lately.
“We?” She asks.
“Yes. We can share it. If you want.”
“Okay…”
Maybe my actions seem a little bit
childish, and my way of asking her to walk home together feels idiotic, but simplicity
has its beauty. And intricacy is something most people would like to avoid.
Love, seems to change a way a person
acts. Because loving someone is to be able to have full responsibility towards
them, and make sure they are fine. Even in the littlest ways possible, I’m
becoming more mature. Soon, I’m going to let her—
My sunshine, know that I’m not the
same aloof classmate she thought I was before.
People
love others not for who they are but for how they make them feel. She
gives me a direction, a light that tells me what I’m capable of. I’m really
catching on—in this life of reality and love.
