I stepped inside of the house and was greeted by the sweet scent of hot chocolate. It has been a while since I smelled one because it has also been a while since I went to Telvor's café
There I saw the woman, sitting on the singular couch in front of a fireplace.
Other people would desire to look at someone while they hold the whole universe in their eyes. Her eyes reflected the complete opposite. It was an ocean of nothingness, as if I was staring at the void.
"Come," I flinched upon hearing her voice. It was strangely warm despite its coldness.
She was slowly tapping her left foot at the wooden floor. Despite the material, it created no noise. I slowly walked towards her and sat at the wooden stool that she pointed at.
She threw the journal at me and I quickly caught it, holding tight on the fragile fountain pen that was wrapped on its sides.
"How — how did you get this?" I asked.
She shifted her gaze from the fireplace to my eyes.
They say that the eyes are the windows of the soul, it is the pathway into looking at a person's hidden feelings. But I guess, it does not apply to her.
My mother would always tell me that I'm good at reading people. From their swift hand gestures, to the flicker of their lashes.
I get to realize why people are telling untrue stories about her. It is not intended to make fun of her indifference or her nonchalance but because they are afraid.
Her eyes were supposed to speak wonders but she chose to speak in silence.
As if she's void of all emotions that a human being should possess.
"I should be the one asking you that. Why are you writing about me?" she asked.
"The reason why I wrote of you is because of interest," I started carefully, testing the waters.
Her palms are placed just above her lap. There's no sign of impatience on her hand gestures. Instead, she genuinely wants to know the reason why I wrote about her.
"I want to know why you're like that. Why do you appear indifferent as if you do not care about anything that is happening in this town? Why do you continue to stay in the shadows when some people attempt to give you a jar of light? Is it something that bothers you or maybe — just maybe, you're unreal?"
Fidgeting my fingers, I waited for her response. I don't even know if I asked the right questions but I've come to the conclusion that if she kicks me out, I will wholeheartedly accept that.
"Indifferent you say?" She fixed the crease of her dress before continuing.
"Tell me, River,"
How did she know my name?
"Do you know the feeling of not being sad on times when you actually have to be sad?"
"...the feeling of not being excited about the things that once made you excited?"
"...the feeling of not being angry about the things that are worth getting angry on?"
"...and the feeling of not being happy on the things that should've made you happy?
"Do you know how it feels when you can't feel the wide variety of emotions that you used to feel back then? I can't feel those emotions anymore, River. As much as I want to, I can't. As much as I force myself, I just can't."
"No matter how I try to break myself just to feel pain, I only get nothing. No matter how I try to look at the stars in the night sky because it is the only thing that makes me truly happy, I can't seem to find meaning to it anymore. The more I force myself to find my own meaning of life results in losing myself more."
Her words are heavy and yet her eyes remain as it is.
"I guess, this is the consequence of enduring so much. I kept on picking up other people's broken pieces to help them fix their own without knowing that I, myself, also needs fixing."
"I pay no mind to their shattered shards without noticing that I'm also a shattered one."
Moments later, she stood up and walked towards the door that I forgot to close.
"I hope that answers your question, River. Please, leave."
She said that as if she shared nothing. As if she didn't become vulnerable for a short period of time.
I stepped out of her home and she quietly closed the door. Clutching tightly at my journal, I made my way home.
I felt heavy after that encounter with that woman. It is my first time hearing something that is both beautiful and painful at the same time.
I flipped through the pages only to see a newly-written note just below my last writing.
Whatever happened throughout my whole existence is none of anyone's business. I was once a soulful woman. But the world simply took that away.
- Haven
