"She's Not Pregnant."
"She's not pregnant."
I remember when March whispered your name to my ears.
The sky is burning, and I’m beginning to think I’m going to die if I don’t go home already. But the wind hugs me tight, and it hugs me even tighter with every step I take; I keep going. The city is growing louder than usual as the day is starting to fall asleep. I begin talking to the afternoon lights as I pass by them, and I didn't worry about a thing.
That is, until I suddenly see someone we both know. She smiles as she laughs my name. Her voice resembles yours, I think. And the aroma of barbecue being sold nearby tickles my nose. I think of you again, and of our memories that the three of us have — memories of when we were still in high school.
We used to go home late, stay at the city park, and eat street foods. We used to laugh our heads off, and smile like every second was something to be proud of. We were glad, and even if the sky was on fire every time we were together, we knew we weren't. Each of us is our wings, and each of us taught each other how to fly. We were best friends. We are best friends. We just lost communication with each other after high school. But I know we still are.
I paste a smile on my lips — the one you particularly taught me — and ask her how her life had been. Even without saying that we missed each other, our voices are full of felicity that brings out the message for us instead. And the tears at the corner of our eyes catch them.
She says that she’s good while she answers back to the smile I give. Then I ask her about you. That’s when her face illuminates a bit disappointment, but all the while, a bit of concern. I wonder if should jokingly ask her why the long face. After a few seconds though, she smiles at me, and says just above a whisper, “Have you heard the rumors?”
I furrow my eyebrows at her question, and I swear the stars that are absent tonight explode in her eyes, like all at once. I want to ask you, what did you do to make her tear up like this? What did you do?
I mumble, “I think I know what you’re talking about, but I don’t believe it at all.” And I almost think that everything is now okay. Almost. Because she freezes, and I can feel the night getting colder with her smile hanging on her face like death has finally come for her and she’s still not ready.
“She’s not pregnant,” she says. “No, not like what everyone is saying.”
“Oh, that’s good then —”
“Because she already has a baby.”
“Oh.” Oh. And that is all that it took for my heart to squeeze itself. I don’t know what to feel exactly. Should I be mad at you? Should I pity you? Should I? What should I do? What should I feel? Tell me...
The night shows its sympathy with its howl serenading the fuck out of us. I hug her, just as I also want to hug you. Because I bet when you were lying on your bed, with the whole world judging you, you felt alone. So this is what I feel right now. I feel sorry, not because of what happened to you, but because you probably felt alone and sad and angry and maybe you cried yourself to sleep every night thinking you’re a disappointment. I’m sorry we weren't there.
This is when I promise myself, that I won’t be like the others. My heart didn't rip itself just to make you do the same when we’ll let you know that we know. I will still love you, and I will be here for you. This is what I remember that happened that night. And I will tell you this the next time we see each other. And I will make sure the universe will bow to smile on your face and claim that it’s what you deserve.
(eusie.)
More Posts from Thsdfnngslnc and Others
Music Volume 8.1.12.1
a.k.a. The eight tracks of my life when it comes to you
(1) A recurring dream: you say to me, “It’s always been you. It’ll always be you.” Sometimes, with your mouth; soft bubbles came out of those lips, eyes shaking as if you were afraid that I won’t ever get to know; so I believed it was true. Sometimes, in a note; written in a hurry, tugging all of my fingers and pressing it onto me like a sacred promise; so I believed it won’t be broken.
(2) But I wake up, breathless and sweating, soulless and aching, and... you weren’t here.
(3) When I sit down for a minute and ponder about my decisions, I come back to those times when we have conversations past midnight. I would remember you looking at me like I were a secret you still kept, still deciding if you would let go or keep hold of. Those gentle touches in the soft light, more tender than everything illuminated by the moon.
(4) I wish I would have done something. Anything.
(5) Yet, you’re still a smoke that keeps on dancing through my nostrils I am yet to get out of my system.
(6) I used to love the first few times when you starred in my dreams. But ever since you closed your eyes each time I start to tremble out your name from my lips, I stopped wondering about the crinkles by your eyes. I stopped trying to miss the way you laugh, stopped trying to make you laugh. I stopped whispering prayers. I stopped altogether.
(7) At some nights, I don’t want to sleep anymore; I’m tired of sleeping. I’ll keep having dreams of you anyway. And I’ll keep having dreams of you anyway even if I’m awake.
(8) A recurring thought: I’ll ask you, “Will I keep holding on? Should I still love you?” I’ll ask you if ever get the chance.
braces in and out & ellipsis
a.k.a. yes, it’s from me. but don’t worry, i don’t
this is how i think it is: the sound between your sketch pads and your pencils are silent from where i am / but your heartbeat is steady like my room's wall clock / it's probably a roller coaster of a ride, but your emotions are too wild to acknowledge / so you hide them in a whip of one color then another, or you drip them in monochrome / and maybe sometimes you find yourself dancing to the wind's songs / but when it whispers a name, you cover your ears and sail yourself back to drawing
(eusie.)
And I just let her use me
...she wouldn’t let me kiss her on her lips anymore but she wiggles out a moan every time when i’m in between her legs and she tells me it’s okay
then every time after she walks away with her clothes along with my soul wrapped in her body as she looks at me and say she’ll come back again
Illustration from Unrequited Love/ 暗恋橘生淮南
i am not a dreamer. i do not wish upon stars. they will suck every letter of our dreamy words. they let us taste lies from every glimmer they give for our eyes to hold. they look down on us, laughing. they watch us as our grounds shake, as our souls skin out every last smile we own. i am not a dreamer. i am not hopeful. i do not hope for impossible truths. i do not hope for palpable things to become blur. because reality is right in front of us, taking out every pain in between our eyes for us to feel, and we already can’t do anything about it, but to just accept and take everything. what’s on the tip our tongues are mantras we need to swallow. we need to stop hoping. we need to.
eusie., “to the boy who’s in love with the sun” (an excerpt)
Here's to someone, pt. 2
Forward. You are a once again a shade of blue, but with a little bit of green. This time I came close in hue. Now I know how your depths go, so maybe drowning with you isn’t scary.
Rewind. But I still look away when you try to hold me.
Stop. But I really hope this is the last time. But maybe not.
(eusie.)
Hello, it isn’t me.
I don’t know when I started to feel the coldness of my bed. But these sheets beat me when it comes to the realization of the absence of your warmth. It took me days to understand that you won’t march back in with all the stars in your eyes. I never tried to open the lights after the day you stormed out, for I don’t know if I can stand to not see your shadows moving in to hug me from behind. Or to sneak downstairs at dawn just to let me wake up to the smell of pancakes or macaroons. I left the kitchen sink on, just so I’m not the only one who continuously fill one’s self with wasted tears. The house is a mess just as I am. Everything is flooded with our memories, and I feel like I was blinded by the smell of your breath every time you mention my name.
I guess, I just really miss you. But I won’t admit it yet.
(eusie.)
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