90 Pages Of Unspoken Words

90 Pages of Unspoken Words

What do you call it when you feel so sad and empty at the same time? When the things that used to make you smile can barely make you grin. When you cry in silence, when you can't control your tears from falling and when you get tired of crying and you can't do anything but to stare at the ceiling, do you know what does it feel like? Do you know the feeling of being left behind by the people who used to always stay beside you and tell you they will always be there for you? Do you know the feeling of being lied to? Do you know what it feels like being lonely? The fact that you're not really alone but you feel so lonely. Do you know what it feels like when you realize that your world is falling apart?

They say, 'time heals all wounds'. But why do I feel like time cannot heal the wound inside my heart?

I sneaked out of our window for the nth time. My dad will be really furious if he finds out that I'm sneaking out every night. Well, he will never know. I'm good at this. From our roof, I jumped onto the tree, tied the rope on the largest branch and slid down. As I reached the ground, I felt my phone vibrate.

"I'm still here waiting for you." I smirked after reading my boyfriend's text who was waiting for me at the end of our street. I started jogging and when I finally saw him, I waved my hand and smiled at him. I hopped in to his car and he started driving.

"Your dad is going to be angry, Fel." He said.

"Only if he finds out," I replied while looking at him confused. It was the first time he was concerned about my dad's anger. Since the day we started dating, all we were thinking about was ourselves. Eating lunch together, hanging out with our friends, sneaking out together, kissing anywhere and making out in the comfort room. He's maybe my 7th or 8th boyfriend. Well I don't really know because I don't find anything special about relationships. I don't find it cute or even cheesy. Seriously, people think too many descriptive words just to describe love which is really unbelievable for me. Love is too deep, unfathomable. Only the fortunate people have an idea of true love. Unfortunately, I'm not one of them.

I went home at 5am and crawled back into bed. This is how everything works for me. I go to school, attend classes and skip some of them, but mostly I skip all of them, hangout with my friends, drink alcohol, smoke weed, go home at 8pm (because my dad arrives at 9pm), sneak out at 12 or 1 in the morning and get back at 5am (because my dad wakes up at 6am) and I need to act like I'm really sleeping. He usually opens my door and kisses my forehead to wake me up and I'm going to act as if everything is okay. Like, I'm okay which I'm not and I will never be......again.

I know deep down inside that I will never be happy again. One of the reasons I hate being called by my real name, Felicity is because my name means happiness and I'm obviously not. Well I was happy, a very long time ago, but somehow I just know I will never be back to that point of bliss.

It's actually my mom who's always been a great source of my happiness. It was my family. The family I used to have. I miss the young Felicity who used to be the consistent honor student, the obedient and happy child. I used to come home from school with stars marked on the top of my hand and then my mom will buy me ice cream as a reward. Having a happy family and great friends were my treasures. Being an only child wasn't really a big deal for me. I loved how my mom and my dad gave me their 100% attention. I used to go home early because I know my mom is waiting for me, my mom who will hug me and ask me how my day was. I miss my dad who will buy me a doll whenever I get a perfect score. I miss how my mom kisses my right cheek while my dad is on my other cheek. The people around me used to envy me because I have a happy family, great friends, and to top it off, God gave me a beautiful face.

Uncontrollably, life has twists and turns. I discovered that life isn't all about happiness. I never thought that my life experience at an early age could greatly change my definition of glee. I just can't get over the feeling of desperation.