~me trash at writing~
TW: Suicide, Self-Harm, Death
~me trash at writing~
TW: Suicide, Self-Harm, Death
This Is How You Fall (In Love)
One - Humanity
Humanity is strange.
It was six in the morning. I would tell you that the birds were chirping, the sun was shining, or these mushy, sappy, things.
But it isn't real. There was the faint pattering of raindrops on the window, the ambience of the few cars in the subtle limelight of a sun shining through faded cumulonimbi. There was the drooping of flower petals, the closing of curtains, the dripping of the faucet. Nobody in their right minds would think to themselves that life is bursting with colours akin to a rainbow. But we still deceive ourselves by veiling the prosaic reality in front of us with bright, flashing, neon lights, with games, with books, with friends, with, perhaps, even love. However, what we don't realize is that every time we indulge ourselves in these selfish acts, we also lose a part of ourselves in the process - something never to be recovered.
After taking a shower and brushing my teeth (and an obligatory breakfast of coffee), I opened the creaky wooden door and stepped onto the street. I walked a kilometre to the subway station, stowing my blue umbrella away and sat down onto the cold cushions of the subway car.
The subway was always empty at this hour, with the few early-rising business men and the last of the party-goers stumbling, drunk, on the roads that they thought led to home.
To hell with them, I say.
But I digress.
I got off the bus, stepping lightly on the sidewalk while avoiding the puddles and entered the building - a polished building with glass walls as tall as the dreams of those inside. I hurried into the elevator and the doors were about to close when I saw him.
He stuck his hands through the gap of the doors and without the sensor they would've squished his hand between them. I scoffed at the foolishness; what kind of recklessness would cause someone to nearly sacrifice their hand just to catch an elevator?
Little did I know that that one encounter changed my life.
Two - Sanctity
"Don't want to lose my hand now, would I," a cheery, mellow voice said.
"Then why take the elevator in the first place?" I replied, indifferent, "why are you in such a –
I paused as my eyes met his - ocean blue eyes filled with hopes and dreams and wonders and the things that I lack, but wanted at the same time - and cleared my throat to cover my break.
"Why are you in such a hurry?" I asked.
His tousled blond hair coupled with his ultramarine eyes that matched his sky blue hoodie and jeans had quite the striking appearance.
But more importantly, he was smiling.
"I've never seen you here at the building before, and my insatiable curiosity forced me to walk up these steps to catch the elevator." There was his smile again.
I was at a loss for words; in such a Kafka-esque and complex bureaucratic world nobody really cared about the people around them, instead, they only envision themselves climbing the ladder to the top and diving into a pool of money. Looking back, perhaps this kind of mindset - the carefree and, consequently, stress free life - was one that I admired, maybe even envied.
