2005, the last week of May. It was morning and I was sitting in an office that smelled like fresh bond paper and air-conditioning. I was supposed to be happy today. I was supposed to have had graduated, after all the putting up and keeping on just to finish college on time. I was supposed to be having my first vacation in four years, after longing for it in a life that felt like nothing but a string of dull Mondays, of meaningless rooms and empty streets, and silent nights that refuses to end. I was supposed to have love, after waiting for so long for that one chance to make her see, never losing faith in believing and hoping. I was past facing the music and moving on. But then, after you move on, where exactly do you go? I felt so lost.
This office was too bright. I wished the fluorescents would go out and it would be dark and dim. I’d bow my head and sulk in the shadows, and no one will notice. Outside was another tedious midmorning. I wished it would rain hard, and the gloom and the cold would match how my heart is. Stupid heart. I was sick of it. I was fed up of listening to it tell me that I was different and that something special was meant for me out there. I was tired of following it to nowhere, to nothing but stupid mistakes and never-ending loneliness. I wanted to rest so badly. I wanted to feel safe in giving in and staying away. I wanted to let go of all these lost hopes and failed dreams. I would soon, when my heart would finally listen, break into a million irreconcilable pieces, and never speak again. I was almost there.
Someone called my name. I was done here. I stood up. I took another look outside and saw a cloudless blue morning sky. I sighed, then slowly walked to the door, and stepped outside. Then, I saw her -- white blouse, jeans, cap. She reminded me of soft breezes and endless fields, and laughter fading in the wind. She was seated on one of the chairs placed in front of the office door I just came out of. Her small lithe frame was the first thing I noticed the moment I walked out. I took the seat beside her. She stared at me with warm inquisitive eyes, veiled in soft shadow and partially hidden beneath the visor of her cap. I smiled as we heard each other’s names for the first time. Some words were said and then she was leaving. I caught myself watching her walk away. Where do you go after you move on? I think there is a part of ourselves that nothing and no one in the world can change, not even ourselves -- a courage that makes you try, an innocence that makes you hope, a passion that makes you persevere, a spirit that makes you endure. You lift yourself up, and try it again. You go back. And this time, you’ll get it right.
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