It was on one of the Ber months days. She’s just gotten up from a sleepover with her girl friends as a celebration of the semester end. She packed her bag with rugged tops and used pants in it. She stroked her hair thrice leaving her an untidy look. Then, she came out the house, unprepared, with no idea of what’s in store for her that day.
Have you ever thought of the awaiting pitfall in return for that spotlight?
Over years, my friends, my relatives, my family especially my parents have set up standards too high for me to reach. Being a consistent medal receiver, I thought I’ve proved them already of what I am capable of.
Stepping into a new course of schooling has been hard for me at first. Compared to one roomful of students, I then have to compete with almost 14 sections. Carrying a heavier weight on my shoulders was now a tough job. I tried to get on and avoid anything that might require dose of responsibility. Those in the back of my mind were bragging thoughts of “I got that without sweat I could have them in that way still” “it’s just high school, it’s not as if these people were geniuses”. I was overwhelmed by my previous achievements so I stood proud thinking that odds were in my favor.
Getting into the highest section was a piece of cake but staying there was a different story. My susceptibility to influence and change of habit led me astray. I was too dumb to be brainwashed by my own thoughts. And I hate myself for actually believing too much from myself. Though it didn’t hurt a lot to me, I know that, that was the start of me being a disappointment to my parents. Every night then I cried myself to sleep. A twinge of pride opened my eyes to reality. Unfortunately, tasting my own medicine was the corollary. Graduating deprived by the perk of speaking in the podium hit me like a storm. It may not have been an easy-to-do-task but at least I should’ve had given it a fight.
Who would’ve ever thought that, that wasn’t yet the ‘downfall’ of my life? Not passing the entrance examination to my dream school was hardcore. I could still remember that morning when my parents saw the result. I was upstairs, half-awake, trying to keep my relationship with my bed but their poignant words were audible enough to notify me with that breaking news. My dreams were shattered. People around me were in even more awe than me. After that, I started to think I am a pro in nothing; I have never made anything deserving of a round of applause. And how I wish I could go back when schooling was as easy as saying A-B-C.
Maybe getting and having what I wanted weren’t traced in the palm of my hands. I tried to look at bygones as walls I needed to break. I took up BS Accountancy to follow the steps of my mother’s success. Even though her trust on my capabilities has already been etched, she knew I was going to get those monkeys off of my back now.
I was in it to win it. I inculcated in my mind everything from my demises to the person I had become on people’s minds. I got good grades. I edged and made people think I have what it takes. And my family went on into thinking that I have straighten up to prove them I am worthy of another chance. It was a moment I wish I could stay in a bit longer.
But I guess I turned the wrong road. It was as if I rode a carousel; I sensed the next one was something I have already encountered before. It was a timed cloud nine feeling and I hate myself for seemingly trying to reach a higher cloud without daring to jump. I paid the least effort shortly on something I want to have forever. I got knocked out and this time, it hit me harder. This was probably the worst nightmare I have ever faced with my eyes wide open. I have never heard more hurtful words than that of what came out of their mouth. I have never seen more disappointed faces than theirs. I have never poured out a river of tears in my entire life than what I did and I have never felt this regretful from any chance I took with uncertainty. I knew I didn’t have a say to this. I knew that a lot has to be done before getting their full trust again. Or worst, there exists no possibility anymore. Maybe it was I or maybe it was because of those smothering things that pushed me into refusal of what I needed the most…
“What kind of turning point do you actually need to stop and start changing?”
And into yourself
You find fragments of what you thought
Of falsity and deceit
It’s always of greatest experience that makes us fully alive.
It’s always on the calmest mornings that we long for our lovers’ arms.
It’s always during the ends of laughter that we ask for beyond.
It’s always after losing that we come up with “what could bes”
It’s always of lowest turning point that we find ourselves lost and unseen.
It’s always about the beginning and the very end but never of what’s in between.
You don’t need me
Like you do way back winter
You don’t call me
with lullabies of sweet words
you don’t feel me
like skins lingering against another
Oh, heavens, I fear
Of a broken oath
My constant hunger
Does it bug you?
My wail of pain
Can you hear it?
my heart’s in shackles
Cause we live like carousels on a night fair
Where everything that happened then
Dawns over and over
Change, but never your sight on me
Change, but never our adapter
Stay, and I’ll carve your name in me
Stay, cause you’re the one I need