Sana
- Reads 326
- Votes 143
- Parts 6
Naranasan niyo na ba ang magkagusto sa isang lalaki na sa tingin mo ay hinding-hindi magkakagusto sa iyo? Iyong feeling na nasa ibaba ka ng gulong at siya naman ay nasa itaas. Iyong feeling na ang hirap-hirap niyang abutin.
Kasi ako, oo.
Ang hirap talaga ng one-sided love.
Iyong tipong binubuhos mo sa kaniya lahat ng pagmamahal mo tapos tumatapon lang naman sa iba.
Ouch, ang saklap.
Iyong tipong baliw na baliw ka sa kaniya at gusto mong palagi siyang nasa paligid mo at hinahanap-hanap mo. Iyong tipong kumpleto na ang araw mo sa tuwing makikita ko ang gwapo niyang mukha.
Pero ang masaklap doon. . .
Hindi ka man lang niya magawang tingnan o sulyapan man lang.
Relate ba kayo sa kinukwento ko?
Kung gusto niyo pang malaman ang mga susunod na mangyayari sa akin. . .
Tunghayan niyo ang istorya ko. . .
Isang istorya ng babaeng umaasa sa isang lalaki.
Magustuhan kaya ako ng lalaking bumihag sa puso ko?
Started : May 08, 2018
Finished : -- --, ----
All Rights Reserved
#873
parkchaeyoung
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A few months ago, I bought a mug with gold gilt. On sale. Not a gift either nor because of an occasion to remember by it. Just plain, pretty mug for 15PLN. I drank my coffee from it since. I spat loose tea leaves into it. It never felt particularly significant. An ordinary object. Only when I lost it, I realised its true value. I sat comfortably at my desk one evening. Looking at my phone, I reached to take my song-text notebook. Trivial situation. My clumsy fingers were unable to avoid the mug. They allowed it to topple over, to slip from the desktop. Even though I did not see the split-second occurrence, I felt the pressure of unease. My head painted the trajectory of the fall on its own, the shattering, spillage. The loss. For a millisecond I still had hope, that I would be able to catch the mug, that I would be able to avoid what was about to happen. But I knew I was headed for failure. I don't have any superpowers. I only scalded my fingers. I looked at the mug's new shape for a long while, at the shattered pieces. At the spilling liquid. Our adventure came to an end. Irrevocably. I won't be drinking coffee from it anymore, nor spit tea leaves into it. Well. I shouldn't be sad, it was just a regular mug, just like thousands of others. I grew to like it, it kept me company throughout hundreds of warm drinks. I lost it. I hate this feeling the most. In the moment when I am losing something, I stop in my tracks, I hold my breath. It is always a very intense moment. A short one, but one that gives me the tight unpleasant feeling in my stomach. The feeling of loss is always accompanied by hope. Silly and naïve. Making me believe so strongly, that I can make it. That I will still be able to catch the mug mid-flight. When the feeling is entering the body, crawling into me I realise, how important it was to me. Whether it's Nivan or a stupid mug with gold gilt.
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