by creatingmemorieswithyou
HIS SILENCE
A short story
Few
minutes have only passed, yet it sounds like thousand years. He kept me
waiting, standing in front of a hallway full of various and mischievous
judgmental faces. Some of them stayed, some just vanished, and hundreds left. I
kept waiting even though my legs grew numb from standing. I barely moved,
trying to reserve my energy for when he arrives I have the strength to walk and
chat with him my plans and us. My eyes were turning red, but I ignored it. I
wiped it with my handkerchief and continued waiting.
An
hour had already passed and my mind seemed to be
exploding from lack of patience. I thought of slapping him in the face or
punching him in the stomach when he arrived. Even though I know I don’t have
the strength to do so, and from the moment I see his dear face, I'll be able to
forgive him because I love him (secretly and unrequited).
Yes,
he did not know or, maybe, he barely knew. His coldness and rare and unexpected
warmness unwillingly captured my heart. I hate him, yet I can't stop loving
him. If only I could convince my heart to stop from beating for him. If only I
could forget him so I'll stop waiting in the hallway I usually do not visit.
Few days
ago, I tried to kill my beating heart. I tried stabbing it; even crushing it so
it will grew numb. But I failed. It never stopped beating for him, so I decided
to face it. Yet the consequence was seemingly unbearable. He never said a word
to comfort me, to assure me that he felt the same. I was floating in wilderness
and soaking in pain. I barely breathe and nearly died.
Still,
I am standing here in front of the hallway I usually do not visit. No shadow of
him appeared. I'm shaking because of hunger but I continued waiting. The
hallway suddenly became noisy, unbearably noisy. I tried to listen to all of
them, yet I can't understand any piece of it. I’m afraid of them. I fear their
judgments.I tried to focus on every voice. I heard one say "There must be something".
Another said "Nothing serious". Meanwhile, a girl's comments hit me.
She said "No one deserve her". Eavesdropping made my stomach whirl.
I felt
stumbling but I able to balance. “It was not meant for me,” I convinced
myself.“Yes, she was talking to someone else. Someone she hated. I barely knew
her, yes, it's not me.”
I
walked into the crowd and felt mixture of emotions: happiness, jealousy,
sadness, loneliness, hatred and guilt. I forced myself to stand and walk
through the crowd until I reach and filled an open space. There, I can clearly
see the end of the hallway. I stand firm and clutched my hand. My chest was
throbbing while I hold back the tears in my eyes. He was there standing with
his friends laughing and talking. He caught a glimpse of me, but ignored my
presence. I joined them and unceasingly stared at him.
He
noticed my intrusion. He grabbed my hand and pushed me in the corner. He stared
at me with vague expression. He looked serious but I felt the amusement in his
eyes. He did not hold my hand, instead, my left wrist. The noise suddenly
faltered. For minutes we stayed in that position, but did not say any word. He
let go of my left wrist and walked forward.He never said a word or did not say
any assurance and left me again in wilderness. He never said a word.
I
thought of running towards him and give him a hug or a slap, but I hesitated.
Instead, I chose to watch him walk and pass on every person in the crowd. He
did not dare to look back. There was again pain, and then silence. I already
decided not to follow him. Yes, I am hesitant but I knew this is the best way
to heal my broken heart: letting him go. I’ve been holding it for too long. I
turn my back and walk in the opposite direction. I turned my head moment by
moment wishing he'll look back, but I saw nothing.
THEREFORE
I CONCLUDE,
That this
must be THE END of our story that never had a chance to have a beginning. The
end of the open space I tried to fill in.And stop visiting the hallway I barely
knew. Yes, maybe, it's better this way; ending my suffering from continuously
living in a hopeless romantic dream and hole I called “Fairy tale.”
But is turning back the best way?