The secret within

©Amy Reese

As he hurried hastily down the white hallway, his mind wandered behind every tightly shut door he passed by. The corridor displayed a deceivingly innocent façade, emitting a hospital-like severity. The silence that swept through it made every movement reverberate at decibels ten times higher than normal. He found himself almost tiptoeing so as to minimise the noise. But he had to hurry. He was expected at the end of the line of doors.

As yet, he did not know what to anticipate. But the telephone call told him to arrive there and come alone.

He was forced to obey.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Also part of Daily Prompt: Façade

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The semicolons of our life

A semi-colon (;) is a punctuation mark often used when a sentence could have ended but it didn’t. Some stories in our life are like those sentences. Unfinished. Because you just know that they are not over yet.

It’s the feeling you get when something is left hanging in the air, like that saying “the elephant in the room”. You know it’s there, although you can’t see it. Like a pending issue left halfway.  Like a book left in the middle, with curiosity overwhelming you about the evolution of the plotline. Like a field left mid-ploughed. They all convey a sense of unfulfillness. That something is just not right. And sometimes, it is reason enough to prevent you from moving on. Because you are drowned into the “what ifs” and the “could haves”. It is not to do to live with regrets. Especially if they concern things you can do something about.

The best thing is to make the most you can out of any given moment. To be open-minded, warm-hearted and understanding towards all perspectives. To stay true to what you believe and ensure that you always feel proud of your actions and certain of who you are and who you want to become. The important thing is to close chapters that need to end and move on. Because unfinished business remain hovering over your head, repressing your emotions and making you ill, like the words you never said when you had the chance.

We need commas in our life. Breaks that make us take a step back and re-examine the situations, re-think, and re-consider our positions. But semi-colons are much harder, for they have unclear boundaries between a break and a closure. Some stories need us to walk away from them. That too is an act of caring.

“Two things rob people of their peace of mind: work unfinished and work not yet begun”

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Unfinished

Living with/in social media

In an age where everything is public, everything also inevitably affects us no matter how much we deny it. We are so hooked on our digital existence that we really can’t see to be without it. It is as if we don’t exist unless we document our actions and share it online for the world to see. No matter how trivial or silly these may be.

The problem with social media nowadays is that nothing is truly private anymore. The confines of personal space and data have become blurred. Once information is “out there” it can literally never be retrieved and re-hidden, regardless of how much it is deleted.

We live in a period when our pass-time is spying on one another online. We may never speak in real life, but have the closest virtual connections and know all about one another’s life – or at least the image we each want to portray – solely from what we post online. Fake or real, our lives have been transferred onto a screen, be it big or small. And it is in that, however, that we’ve lost our human emotion in an attempt to gain more communication. The digital evolution has undoubtedly advanced communication through the certainty granted by the distance provided by the screen, and the time allowed to work on the expression of your views; because otherwise we would seemingly drown in all those things that would have been left unsaid. Yet, filling up with words and flagrant demonstrations of actions, we have become void of sentiment. We have lost the ability to talk, to gaze into the other person’s eyes and speak without saying a word. To understand through the tone of their voice, the message of their heartbeat. To comprehend their state of mind, simply by observing their body language. There are so many things that a screen can still not convey.  And it is through this smartphone and digital media addiction, that we have brought upon us the death of conversation, panicking like drug addicts experiencing withdrawal symptoms when we are found without a device in hand. It is a necessary evil of the modern age, but like everything in life, we need to be able to control and take hold of it. Not allow it to be the other way around.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Panic

We fall in love to feel alive

There is a saying that “the heart has its reasons which reasons knows not” (Blaise Pascal); that sometimes what you feel you want and what you know is rational are incompatible. But the heart is a powerful organ. It’s what keeps us alive.

Maybe we should listen to it more.

The heart has a way of making you feel things deeply, intensely and with full force. It is most evident when the feeling of love is concerned.

Falling in love is a process. One that is both terrifying and wonderful at the same time. One which devours your very being, but completes you to the fullest. It is what takes complete and utter control of you, of every sense and emotion you have.

Like this brilliant article says. “we fall in love not just with a person wholly external to us, but with a fantasy of how that person can fill what is missing from our interior lives”.

We fall in love because we want to feel wanted, desired, attractive, important. Because we need someone to share our experiences with, to make them priceless, to give fun a new meaning. We both want and need that special someone who will be the reason you count down the days for the weekend, and with whom you make plans for the future. That person who will acknowledge your value and won’t hesitate to fight for you. The person who will demonstrate that no matter the tough times you will unavoidably encounter, your relationship will endure, because together is a notion that is always strongest. We fall in love because we need that spark of optimism, of hope, of brightness in our lives.

However, it is true that “all love stories are frustration stories…to fall in love is to be reminded of a frustration you didn’t know you had” (Adam Phillips). “It is as if, oddly, you were waiting for someone but you didn’t know who they were until they arrived”.

The person you fall for is one who subconsciously you had already been expecting. The person who you’ll find you share with so many common habits, beliefs, likes, interests. It’s the person who makes time fly when you’re together and with whom time is never enough.

Love becomes a progressive transformation of an initial infatuation – “that parallel intensity of longing for our lover’s presence and anguishing in her absence”. It is indeed only when you meet that person who clicks with you, that you start missing them when they’re not around, because it is only then that you realise what it is you were longing for.

Love is a constant struggle between enthusiasm and torment, between giving and receiving, between compromising and accepting. But it is the intensity of it all that makes it worthwhile. And ultimately it is the very reason we fall in love, to feel alive.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Together

Also part of Daily Prompt: Passionate

The sting of an aroma

It only took a single whiff to feel it in the air. It was intoxicating. It filled your surroundings like a thick cloud embracing every angle of your body, pulling you tight inside its mist.

It was sensual and romantic at the same time. Bold yet timid. It smelled of spring and flowers and fruit, but had a touch of oak and spice.

It was arousing. The kind that seared into your very veins and whose scent drilled through your nostrils, remaining with you hours after you first put it on.

It was the kind of perfume that gave away the woman who wore it.

And he was certain it was her, the minute the aroma stung his nose.

It was hypnotic and poisonous. Just like her.

The paper boat that wouldn’t sail

The little boy placed the origami-paper boat into the lake and waited eagerly. In his mind, the little boat’s voyage would be tremendous. It would set sail immediately once its surface hit the water and would skid across the lake as if motor-powered.

He waited, but nothing happened.

There was no wind that day and that didn’t help.

He gave it a couple of minutes. Still nothing.

He then poked it a little with his finger. Maybe it just needed a prodding to get going.

Still nothing. The boat remained still, firm in place exactly where he had strategically positioned it at the edge of the lake.

He tried blowing at it, but that didn’t seem to work either.

He looked at the boat perplexed. What was going wrong? The water was calm, ideal, in his opinion, for a smooth sail. The weather was perfect – no clouds, sunny with a very faint breeze. The boat was masterly crafted, having calculated all the angles at which the boat would achieve optimum sailing conditions.  Yet nothing seemed to work.

The more the boy pushed and spurred the boat, the more it crumpled and sunk in the water. It still did not achieve its purpose though.

The boy despaired and gave up trying.

Then something happened. The faint breeze transformed into a gentle wind that softly pulled the paper boat inwards, giving it the stimulus it needed to start its sail.

The boy leaped with joy, clapping his hands.

Sometimes, you just need to relax, let things take their course and have some patience that it will all work out in the end. Not everything needs pressure or force to function. Often all it takes is some breathing space.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Perplexed

Those days

There are some days when you feel like the world has literally fallen on you and crushed you down. When you don’t want to even try and get out of bed. When all you really want is to roll over and fall into the warm embrace of the person you love.

There are days when everything seems futile. When you can’t seem to take any decisions, because even that seems too difficult. When you wish someone else could take all the responsibilities off your shoulders.

There are some days when your emotions are triggered by the slightest of things. When your sensitivity hits another level. When it is so easy for you to start crying just because it is what may make you feel some sort of relief.

There are those days when you just want to know that somebody cares. That somebody is there to look after you when you’re not feeling you. When you want to let go and get lost in the arms of someone who loves you. When you want to feel just as loved as all the love you have on offer. When you want to believe that the world is not as harsh as it reveals itself to be sometimes. And that in those very days, everything can become right. By the simplest of actions. By simply showing you truly care. By offering a warm hug and a bright smile.

The waiting machine

©Sandra Crook

It stood there, in the corner of the room gathering dust. Its glimmering black had faded, as rust consumed its interior. It remained exactly as it was left, 75 years ago. Waiting to finish the job it had started.

The old sewing machine was Martha’s prized possession. She had been the first in town to possess one, and people would travel for miles to have their outfits sewn on that very machine. That’s how Martha met Spencer.

The day he went off to war, she began sewing a dress to greet him with on his return. It was never finished.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

That very thin line

Some people come into our lives without us realizing it. Until the proper time comes, that is. For Cristina that was the case. Because her and Jacob’s path had crossed many time over the past year. But none of them had noticed. They were too busy living their lives at that moment to realise where fate was pushing them to.

The first time they collided, they literally ran into each other. She was getting off a bus and he was racing to catch the next one. They crashed, but being too concerned with the time pressure they were both facing, they did not even exchange glances.

A few times, they frequented the same night bar with separate groups of friends. But they never saw each other.

When they finally met, they were at a bar waiting for their drinks. He offered to pay for hers, but she politely refused. He tried to offer her another a few minutes later. She hesitated but decided to accept. He asked for her number and showed he was eager to see her again soon. She found it too quick a move and discretely dismissed him. For her, he was not even worth it.

But he persisted. And decided to chase her. She decided to give him the chance.

He sent her flowers, took her on long walks on the beach at sunset, and revealed a romantic side to him that few men admit to having.

She fell for him.

But then she saw something different. She saw how men can be just as jealous – or even more – as women. And she disliked the way he was looking for opportunities to make her feel bad.

She discovered that there is a very thin line between love and hate. Because there are people we love to hate and others we hate because we love them so much. It’s confusing, but no-one ever said that the human race was a simple species to understand.

There were so many instances when she knew she should be angry at him, but all she could feel was sorrow. At the time wasted being upset with stupid little things, and not spending it together.

Her psychiatrist friend had told her that “people make us feel the way we allow them to”. She also tried to make her see that there was no use in trying to find justification for everything. “An explanation will come only when you don’t need it anymore. And it will usually be even less than the one you expect”.

All she could do was remain true to the person she was. To be patient and optimistic that things would turn around for the best once and for all, and she could finally stop being afraid of actually saying or feeling what she truly felt.

 

“There are two tragedies in life. One is to lose your heart’s desire. The other is to gain it.”  – Bernard Shaw

Coffee in the park

He was waiting for her with a book in hand outside the small coffee shop where they had agreed to meet at 6pm sharp. She was ten minutes (fashionably) late. On purpose, of course. His eyes lit up when he saw her approaching. She tried to hide the glow of her own eyes through the dark sunglasses she still wore even though the sun had already began to set.

He greeted her and told her he would like to go sit on the green hill opposite the café where people went to gaze at the world as it went by a few feet away from them. She agreed without hesitation. It was an alternative offer to a mere coffee appointment and she was curious to see where it would lead.

He ordered the coffee and took her hand. She couldn’t help but blush, even after all this time.

The last time she had seen him a week ago she had left in a rush to hide her tears. He was as cold as an iceberg. But both their pride made them stubborn enough to remain apart even though they wanted to be together.

For minutes, they discussed the people that walked past, the streetlights, the current events, everything other than what was truly on their minds.

Then she dared ask, “what is this book you have?” She was a bookworm and he knew it. She could get lost in books as though she was drowning in an ocean.

He didn’t look at her, but a faint smile formed on his face. “There are some things I can’t say. It’s what you complain to me about. That I don’t speak enough. Or, rather, I don’t tell you how I feel enough. So I found another way to do so. I want to read you something. It’s exactly what I want you to know. What I wish I could say to you. What I want you to understand about me.”

She gazed at him as he took the book – a blue one with yellow pages – and opened it to the marked page. He cleared his throat and began to read, gently as though in a lullaby, with emotion emanating from every word he pronounced.

“I love you even when I hate you. Even when I want to be angry at you, I can’t. Because I’ve fallen so deep, I can’t get out. And I don’t want to. I become silent because I fear of you knowing this. Because it scares me that I am so vulnerable at your hands. That I lose all control when I’m with you, when I simply lay eyes on you. You awaken in me everything I want to be. That better person I would like to be, the one I strive to become. I say nothing because I want to say a lot. Because I fear you’ll realise you deserve so much better than me. That I am not worthy of someone like you. Whatever adjectives I find to describe you will never be enough. And I fall silent because I fear that you will realise you deserve better and walk away. I know I become overly jealous and possessive. It is the fear in me coming out. And that turns into anger because I am afraid I won’t be able to keep you. I love you even when I say I don’t. Because you have awakened in me an emotion that I never knew existed. And I love you for being you. For being here with me. For loving me.”

He closed the book and she swallowed with difficulty. She turned her head quickly away because she didn’t want him to see the tears forming in her eyes. She managed to keep them from trickling down.

“That’s beautiful,” she told him. “Who wrote it?”

He opened the book again to the marked page.

“I did,” he said and revealed the yellow post-it he had written it all on.