Isn’t it both fascinating and irritating to have someone beside you? Fascinating because someone cared. Irritating because you didn’t ask them to be there in the first place.
I met a boy yesterday. He said his name is Dominic Savio. What a saintly name right? I told him that of course. He’s the same boy who saved me back at the train station, still the same boy who stood at the door of my classroom and still the same boy who followed me back home today.
I don’t know what it is with him that he couldn’t just stay in his own monkey business. His curiosity had almost cost him his life yesterday. Thanks to me who saved his life. But we’re both stalemates now. I’ve paid my debt to him by saving his life. Although I asked him to leave me alone in return. But then for a Music Major he seems dumb. Maybe he’s following the footsteps of Beethoven.
Earlier he followed my pursuit, I hate looking at him because I had the feeling my eyes would get burned. They’re too big and too blue and too bright for my eyes. He’s a complete nuisance. He and his unstoppable curiosity about me. I have no idea what he has seen in me that is follow-able like twitter. He said he wanted to be friends with me. Like duh, boys are predictable as girls. Being friends with the opposite sex means something deeper. It’s like asking your mother the question why she chose to marry your father. People can be predicable. But I don’t know if I’m predicable.
Saintly boy said I am not broken. I only think I am.
I watch myself in the mirror. I see the same ordinary girl. Blue eyes stare back at me. They are the color of snowflakes frosted on a windowpane. Dark hair hangs loose in coherent waves on my shoulders; they are the color of coffee beans and tree trunks on a mid-summer day when struck by sunlight. And pale skin, white and cold as death than snow. I look exactly as I have remembered, only that… well, maybe inches taller now.
Broken. I think it’s a stupid thing to say when you’re not. He says.
Maybe he is not just dumb. He is also blind. He only sees what his eyes reflect on him. He doesn’t see what’s behind. Appearances can be deceiving. Even mirrors lie. They don’t show what’s inside.
But then maybe, just maybe, I was wrong about him too. They say when you hate someone it’s because they reflect the person you don’t want yourself to be. So when you pinpoint someone with your finger, four fingers point back at you. But then again I have rules to follow so that I may leave this world with a peaceful head and an unspoiled heart.
And you know what; some people can really be hard headed. You slam the door at their face and yet they keep on knocking at your door. When I opened it, I find Dominic Savio standing at the front porch with my sling bag in his hand.
I was both glad and sad about it. Glad because he apologized for his bad behavior (I didn’t really care about the bag). Sad because he came back for me.
I know it’s much safer to lock away some feelings when they start to tingle and warm your heart. Some act of kindness can sometimes cause too much devastation to a person. Plus, I made it a policy to avoid the living.
It is still much safer not to feel. It’s much safer to feel nothing at all.
Without Wax,
Anna496Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCa8Y5TypCO
