We're sitting on the floor, facing each other almost an hour now. I kept biting my bottom lip with a bit of throb in my chest as I tell him every little thing that I bear in the past few days of keeping it all to myself. The things I thought that didn't really matter to conceal because I don't wanna think it could ruin what I have in the present. “Is this why you don't wanna go tomorrow?”
“I-I do. I want to.”
“We can cancel, Cari. I can tell them—”
“And waste all the amount of effort you put into this? Please no. We're not having this conversation because I wanna call it off. I just wanted to let you know about this.”
“But why would you wait any longer to say something about it?”
The prolonged pause presented itself again. Over the years I have grown to witness keeping it all hidden within me that created me as the person I had so much hatred throughout those years. The refusal of seeing someone that can aid me in some ways, the blaming I throw to myself for thinking it wasn't good enough, the battle of remaining alive and all of the things I had to live through because I chose to be this way. Like a lifeless person living in my own world. “The truth is—I’m just really ashamed.”
“And I don't want you to see me this way—”
“Cari, stop.” He took both of my hands to his and rubbed them softly that helps me settle down from this growing intense emotion. “It doesn't matter. We'll face that together.”
It makes me wonder at times how Sam could be this tender and protective of me, how he gets me when no one does. He always see the bigger picture better than I do with myself and deliver me the inner peace just by holding me. He knows how to move across with what I feel and downfall. It's even funnier when I believe he's a miracle sent to me. Which is silly to think about now. “Hey, I love you, Cari.” As though the world ceased and all I could see is Sam floating infront of me. Everything started to blur when I heard those exact words that came out of his perfect peachy lips. It all started to fade at a slow pace and his figure is what I only see, holding my hands and his eyes drawn only to me. “I mean it.”
Not everyday you hear someone tell you that. He captured me in a moment where I was telling him about the horrible dreams in my sleep and shortly after the conversation ends, he says the words that's quite impossible to hear from anyone after incidents happened. Truthfully, I have no idea how to feel. I hope he's not anticipating for me to answer that because right now, I do care for Sam. However, love is a horse of different color. My perception of love is that it's something vast at the same time so little and limited that it's bewildering in the end, at least for me. The word itself somewhat terrifies me in a strange way. Regardless of what it is, I'm not quite there yet. “Yeah, um. . .”
“You want some space?” I nod weakly in approval. He cleared his throat and gave me a hand to support me stand on my feet.
I used to really detest the word fondness and having that deep affection to someone. I loathe seeing people giggling weirdly together for just a brief seconds, it even makes me queasy spotting random recorded marriage proposals on the internet and how much people upload images on a media platform with an awkward intimate pose, like joining hands while locking eyes or sharing indecent photos and tagging that person in a social network post. I'm pleased that I made a decision to drop all of my social applications earlier this year, after catching a glimpse of almost exposed portraits of Laurel and the guy he used to go out with infront of a mirror. I wince a lot with dating and consistently texting each other anywhere. I perceive it as people just waiting for this exact time to part ways and totally squander each other's time. Perhaps because I hadn't seen my parent's love for a long time, they were seperated too soon, but I always knew love started with them too.
Before he could reach the door I called him. “I don't feel the same way you do, Sam.” I couldn't hold it back. He was on the verge of speaking but then hesitation filled his entire face that made him just walk out of the door without saying anything in response.
After an hour of packing I have finally decided to find something to eat only to see the living room and kitchen no sign of Sam. I noticed his usual stuffs for work still on the table where he normally keep his late hours. He’s kind of a tea guy and he also disapproves his drink getting cold however it's different this time. I even checked the window hoping to see him just outside but he wasn't. I'm now filled with curiousity as to why he's not around when he usually is. I walked my way to his room and knocked more than once but there wasn't any answer. “Sam?” I wouldn't also know if he's asleep and honestly I don't wanna find out because it will only offend me. We would normally have dinner together and talk about work after. If he's already asleep right now it would not be fair to me knowing that it takes me a while to follow how we would handle a guaranteed work the next day. I couldn't really be able to act quickly unlike him and other people, therefore I need more of his guide.
I stood blankly for a little while and when I finally realize the door is not gonna open anytime soon, I turned my back and decided going for a night stroll outside. When I took this job I've never really had some time going out and wander like I would before. It's the only way I give attention to those fleeting moments people do around. It's the certain manner I refuse to escape from me.
I instantly felt somewhat anxious when I came to a stop after seeing my house right here infront of Betty's home, neighbor for as long as I can remember now and still has her unceasing habit of people's news and whispers in every part of this village. She's a portrait of a relentless woman, every single thing begins with her and practically finishes with her too. The cycle of it is boundless. Glimmer of the home lamps outside the porch is the only thing that has a light making it look plainly desserted. I would naturally think to myself that I should enter promptly after constantly hating everything I see outside, but that wasn't what I was thinking. Rather, I whispered, “I don't wanna find out”. I'm at a moment in life where I don't really wanna raise a question from now on.
“Hey, Cari.” I nearly jumped out of my skin to the silhouette of someone I noticed following my back. “Forgive me, it wasn't my intention to startle you.” I quickly turned my head to a clearly man's voice standing infront of me with a pair of stripy pattern of his pajamas. I looked him up and down with a fright on my face and also with judgment I have thinking he's just like me. I meant having one of those terrible night and decided to stroll in the middle of soft lights on all sides of the streets. “Tyrone. I don't think you remember me by the look on your face.”
The look on my face right now is clearly terrified and I don't also recognize him. “Uh, I'm very bad at remembering people, sorry. You must have been mistaken of knowing me.”
“Trust me, I very much know you.” There's a prolonged stare at him trying really hard to know this man. Seeing that he's wearing a nightwear and it's dark out here it's evident that he lives around the village. “The tiny biker you would call me?”
And now I think I do.
