Just a Pain Reliever (Pinili Series #1)

Prologue

Silence.

Tranquility.

Perhaps, this is a beautiful pain to treasure. Perhaps. 

To be mocked and envied by the world is only a graze in my heart; to be abandoned in an abyss of longing is an eternal slumber, clinging to and devouring all my strength. I adored him more than I could care for my existence, yet the world was cruel and unjust. I yearn for his scent, yet I have slipped his fingers from mine. It was the end of my journey, I said, for his smile was the only path I wished to chase. 

Our departure was a silent boarding gate; it was empty and numb, neither sad nor resentful. In the end, I was the one who was unable to let go. I have no fear of such a death, yet now I only wish to live long enough to see how dazzling he is and how joyful his smiles are even though my presence can no longer warm his heart. He was like a gentle path I had no courage to walk down. He was precious and pure; I could not tempt myself to shatter him. 

However, I must say that I could still bravely carve a smile on my dry lips. I could still watch him from afar. I am fine, after all.  

"When the wind blows, the candle loses its flame, huh," I sneered in my head. 

I felt the bitter kiss of reality as I woke up to the red of my eyelids after being scorched by the sun. I was gullible with the daydreams I created. I was in fever, my shoulders exposed to the breeze of the wind. I had spent so many days in this nostalgic place. I could not name those memories anymore. I had no courage to do so. My eyes closed again, and I shrunk again into the trailing thoughts of wishful thinking. I could not feel the time moving, I could only hear the creaking of my heart, and the whimper of the wind.

If I were to live out my fantasy, I'd choose him as my significant other. If I were to defy the odds, I'd face them with his warmth. It was he who taught me how to cherish the jar of joy. It was always him.  If love was a bullet, I'd catch it with all my might; I'd pull the trigger and gladly shoot our hearts.

Living was bearable because he existed. I could endure the ache because he was there. 

"Ungrateful," I whispered. My voice trembled, as if it were drowned out by my miseries and fears. 

Days, months, and years. I took a tear-jerking journey to embrace the perfect body of success. I entangled my hands in the roots of happiness because I was desperate to free myself from the woes that pierced my skin endlessly. It was my tears that drew a smile on my pale lips; it was bitter. This loneliness I have felt ignited a long-lost memory I wish to caress once more. It is I who must be blamed. I deserve this ache—alone with a broken peace. 

Blues and bliss; falls and woes. Amidst the whisper of sorrow, I have witnessed the solitary pleasure of scorching loneliness. I am lost in the middle of nowhere, an abyss of darkness that cripples me beneath the fresh wounds on my chest. 

"Hah," I shivered and felt at ease as the wind gently brushed my hair; I calmly breathed out all my thoughts.

I witnessed how the wave of my tranquility gradually sank in an infinite melancholy. Perhaps I succumbed myself to the devil inside me. I became one with the monster in my head. I was despicable and regretful. I wish to fly with him yet I could only watch his colors flew above me. He was unreachable. I am deeply ashamed of how I sank in inferiority. Being unable to fly even if I wear wings is utterly deplorable.