Ready For Love

Chapter 60

Nieeh | Glorious

The day you were brought up in this world had to be one of the happiest moment in your life. It's when this was the day you became human, you've been molded to be one, you existed, you came to life, you now inhabited the earth, you get to have your presence get recognized.

And it should be a day filled with much bliss, ecstasy and delight. But why? Of all people why does it have to be me? It could be anyone else, it could've been those people who did nothing but bring out the wickedness out of the good. Or it could've been those who committed crime that all includes the seven deadly sins. Out of all the fishes in the sea, I was that unfortunate one that got played by the fool and fell for the bait. Such an unlucky bitch when you got to spend your very special day with such torment and plague.

"Happy birthday to me" I sniffled and brought my palms to brush my face and just letting my fingers exasperately run through my hair.

It's my yey day and I'm supposed to be blowing out candles that were stabbed on those pretty little rainbow cakes and get to tilt my head from left to right while hitting both my palms into a clap and just fill my ears with those important people next to me singing a happy, happy birthday to me. And yet here I am, feeling these grasses prick my butt, making it itchy while I crouch down with my leg crossed in the other haunch. Instead of enchantment, I felt grieveness, lament and mourn.

"I miss you" I stared at the carved letters where my mother's name was engraved.

My eyes prick as I shifted my gaze of what was imprinted below her name. Of course, you're probably wondering how much misery I had to go through. The day I was born was also the day of my mother's death. Such a twist of sunrise and sunset.

It was already too much, too much darkness for a rainbow. I was like a cloud above, already packed up, I was full, my brain was, my mind was too occupied, loaded with too much information that I seriously am having trouble sinking all of these shit. Just like a cloud filled with water and just waiting for something that would trigger it to finally pour all of its content, like a sequence of cascades. I don't think I can handle it. It's too much to handle.

I need Shandrelle. I need my fiancé. I need the love of my life. I need my person, my haven, my refuge, my source of strength, I want to just crumble and pass out in her arms, her arms that were already my home.

I am at the verge of breaking down.

Should I call her?

Yes.

"No."

She'd probably be busy dealing with her patients by now and running around the halls to every room where she would distribute the medicines she reconstituted for suspensions of Acetaminophen intended for children or filling those capsules with its non-potent drugs and placed its powder in a pill tile or large sheet of paper with a large spatula forms rectangular or squared shaped, then in partially cut into pieces of blocks. The way she called it was, the block and divide method. I know, that's how we spend the rest of the nights with each other, it doesn't matter if we were apart or together. We always end our days after a small chat or long talk of how'd our day go. Not every single time but as much as we have the time to spare, it's not compulsory, much less mandatory. It's just, you know, one of our ways to de-stress after a hard days work or after a long tiring day.

Should I tell her about what I know?

Of course.

"Not."

Yet. Not yet. I wouldn't want her to freak out when she finds out about her real identity and about the history of her past- her family. As a matter of fact, does she need to? I mean, is there a need for her to know all of it, about her family?