A Minute

You clenched your teeth and you held it again.

Maybe it's the 9th times, or 10th, kinda hard to count since you do it in the short period of time. But from the small gestures that you made, it's pretty clear for me to get into this one conclusion : you might be just don't want to do this.

And it's okay.

Even though I've already know that it was on your tip of tongue --the crumpled paper with your democratic speech on it, I remained silent and not to look generous in front of you so that you'll be much more comfortable.

So this is how people look when they don't know how to say a thing.

You rolled your eyes and keep scratching your head even though it wasn't itchy. You take a deep breath and exhale it again. You blinked your eyes for the thousand times  and I guess I almost see a single tear over there... well, or you're just being sleepy (which is impossible anyway).

"Anyhow," I finally speaking.

You lifted up your head and still looks terrible. And wow, that eye bags, how many nights you've been up to? Or how many nights you're crying all this time?

"I'm not going to give you any advice or any sweet talks, so if you want to talk about anything that stuck inside your head, please do."

I saw your eyes start to get blurry.

"...Crying is allowed to, I guess?"

And you finally cried.


2 comment(s):

Anonymous said...

Ummm i wonder, this blog is kind of your alter ego, isn't it?

S said...

if you say so, then.