I Quit Thinking

CHAPTER 12

Don't I?

If, in any chance, I could choose who and how I meet certain people in my life. I would not conspire it just to end it the way I decided how.

There is fear. I admit, there is always a glint of being weak and stupid, a solid conjunction of shadow swirling around on every bones I have in my body. It's heavy.

As I walk along with the rising sun withstanding me on a cliff, a morning that I consumed too early for a normal person, my mind begin to jumble again from seconds after seconds. I stand and watch the sun complete its shape in front of me, it's beautiful. Warm in my skin. The rock under me seems floating from the morning bushes and air. For a moment, my head started to remember this man who happened to activate the qualities that I stopped appreciating before, not until he came.

I know, anyone on this whole fucking planet has ever been in my situation before. Some of them may have survived it, some maybe not.

The question isn't 'how' really. But when.

Should I wait, or should I just have to trust the process. I don't know. My mind been forcing me to jive in that real passages back and forth until days has passed by and I'm still trying to figure out all the answers. Thinking.

I am thinking. This is all because of him. And for some reasons, I wish he's not the reason too to quit again.

They said, it's easier to think about life in general than what you just know about the life itself. I have to admit that from the last years of my existence being the only eye to watch everyone do their jobs and having their family routines, I never feel less alone. I always say, I quit thinking about every possible reunion that might play infront of me. I quit thinking about the real score of being truly successful with yourself. But I can't say if I always meant all of them or it's just an arrival of thoughts that comforts me.

"Louvielle?" A knock on my door forcedly made my eyes to shut again. Tight. Why's everyone in this house needs to check up on me? I'm twenty-five, oh dear, I swear it's annoyingly fantastic to have someone knocking on your door each morning at this age.

I ignored it, flipping over the bed to start my routine. It still hitting me different for three months now, finding him without on the same bed, no Paulo under me everytime I fucking plank.

Ridiculous.

"Louvielle? It's 2PM, you lady. Are you alright?" Miss Iga knocks again, her voice is so sweet even I could feel the worry in them.

"Finee." I tried to shout while my arms are supporting my body. Twelve more minutes left. "I'm fine." I clear.

The next days, and days, and days, my life just becomes like this. Full of three people who always checks upon me. Sir Janra, Miss Iga, and Francesca who is just a year older than me. My days are either writing or walking around the yards. Also, it's either trying to help Francesca in the kitchen or outsmarting Sir Janra.

While I stir the sauce on the pan, I started to hear Francesca laughing behind me to where she is. I look over my shoulder, there she is covering her lips with the back of her hand.

"You're doing it so slow." She says. "Try to turn the heat up more if you don't want to stay in there forever."

I did what she says. Turning the heat up and start stirring again. "Where's the others?" I ask.

"Probably somewhere knocking at every squirrels' houses in the woods. Who knows."

I stare at her, is that a joke or a sex figure of speech thing. Sir Janra is so old, Miss Iga is just forty as I can suspect. "What?"