Chivalry of Death
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- Parts 1
Ongoing8m
Last published Sat, Aug 15, 2020
I saw how this so-called-love fades on everyone that's around me. How it broke and plays those who are brave enough to risk and fight for it.
At first, you wil be inspired and smile on everything. You don't notice that your heart became so used on having someone beside you.
It'll make you complete to the point that you are giving your all without worrying losing your own self.
Second, as you became used- you wouldn't mind wasting tears and suffer alone.
So in the end of the story? You lost. You just lost the game and so as yourself.
I am Malyka, that girl who don't mind being alone at all, has a motto that "If you really love YOURSELF, don't love SOMEONE else." and doesn't believe to the "Magic of Love" that keeps everyone moving for I've seen how that brokes everyone who would dare to try.
But, I didn't expected this guy who I didn't notice at first for he made my mind think- "Am I really going on to life without loving the things and those person beside me? "
Can he be the only exception to all the things I'd tell myself or am I still going to obey those?
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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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