Aimer, ce n’est pas se regarder l’un l’autre, c’est regarder ensemble dans la mêmedirection.
“My longing is unquenchable; like a desert in my throat. Love may have forgotten me, but I’ve never forgotten love. There is but one soul that waits, but one soul that holds the key to my happiness in an embrace and if I shall find my longing somewhere in the vastness of all earthly desires, then I shall be free. I shall love with all of me the way I’ve never loved before.”
I opened my eyes still thinking of the passage I’ve read on the book. I felt the loneliness dawning on me as I slowly realize I’m all alone in my empty cold dark room. It’s an ordinary day; one that simply pass by and come into completion the moment I log-off from our office’s bundy clock. I walked the busy city streets feeling drained; a habit I’ve developed to rid myself of the toxicity I get from working 9 hours a day. The traffic is unbearable and the noise around me is too much to handle. I tried hailing for a cab for a quick escape, but I am to no luck. From the cab drivers’ irritating fussiness to the pedestrians who doesn’t seem to care whether the traffic light is red or green; I am indeed living in a third world country I am proud to call my own.
At the fragile age of 22, I have stumbled and fallen in love so many times. Too many to count that the pain became bearable as the days go by. It has become my medicine, my relief, my reminder that I am still alive and breathing. At most times I find comfort in music; the loud ones that damages your eardrums, but reflects the current tune of your heart. The alcohol is their to ease the pain and some friends, whether true or not, to help me get through the night alive. I can only imagine the smile on my face when I get to know someone who will give love back the moment I throw it; I can only imagine the happiness I’ll feel. I can only imagine my sanity, my delight, and my celebration the moment I get to taste love coming from another lips not mine.
I arrived home with a heavy heart. I should’ve continued walking, but it was too late. I have laid my eyes upon the words of someone that struck me from the inside out. The tangled city is no good to me. I was forced to escape to another dimension when I stepped foot in an old book shop that smelled of dust and old wood. I saw one book that caught my attention. An old plain brown book whose cover didn’t look pretty much more than it’s worth in the tag price. I opened it nevertheless. I started reading the words of a stranger whom I know nothing of. It told his story of love; a love that was never returned. I continued reading until I can read no more for my mind has lost its pace. I know his story, but how come he knows mine? I turned the pages back in hopes that I only misunderstood his words, but as I went back pages to pages, the longing I felt just got stronger. I closed the book and returned it to where I saw it. Second shelf, third book from the right. The saleslady asked me if I wanted it so that she can reserve it. I said no. I walked out. I took one long breath and embraced the calmness I saw before me. It started raining. The heavens cried with me. I am alive. I felt the pain again. It’s time I retreat and love what I only have as of the moment…
the world around me… and… well… ME…
Quand on a pas ce que l’on aime, il faut aimer ce que l’on a