I know we had been secretly sneaking glances at one another, but would never ever face to face talk what was on our mind. And things turned out to be what they were supposed to be; you and I ended up with lots of word left unspoken, care left unaddressed, with love left unrevealed, with pain left unhealed and with tears left untamed. It was not an easy feeling at all to see the one whom we had been investing our mind on be other’s possession. Would the time recede back? Would we sit and talk? Would he understand our regret? Would I be him and would you see me in his face? Would? Would? And would? Countless “would?” would never remedy all these pain, all these loneliness, and all these crazy things I had been too coward to not let you know. It hurts profusely everywhere when this pops up in my mind, and I perceive you share the same feelings. Why do not you give us another chance? Why cannot your hurt be healed by my care or loyalty? Is my love late? Will you be a bit kind to your mind, his and mine? Will and will and will you and I make this love be a you-laugh-and-I-laugh one?
It was a sad love story of mine and her, which will never draw any yes-we-can-restart reconciliations for us two, who had been, for some long period of time, not ourselves and who should have been guffawed at because there had been words, throat-aching words that would make lumps in our throats boom if spoken out. The story strolled like this.
Last summer, I was taking a course of English at a school, a 30 minutes biking ride from my house. The course was a vocational course, assigned for any folks who wished to enhance their English skills. I enrolled and the class I was placed in contained some 25 students. On my first day of the class, I was the most late-coming student, and as I stepped into the room, many various eyes fixed upon my rather handsome look. I was not shy at this, and, as if unlucky, I was told by the teacher to sit at the left corner of the class, which drew me an uneasy feeling, for I was not used to sitting at the front row and for opposite to me, on other corner sat a blonde-haired, twinkle-eyed, and stern-looking girl whose, I thought, petite body, bean-like skin, French-like nose and dainty beauty could beat down any hard hearts of any man who saw her. And I was trapped by these, and thinking if only she were my girlfriend, I would be praised for my luck and eyes.
Though, things remained things from my nature. Most of my feelings are not usually shown out because, by nature, I am kind of a man who fear trying doing something new, and this has been haunting me days and nights. I have sensed I have to deal with it very soon, yet the laze and procrastination in me would not allow. I thought of having her as my girlfriend, of hugging her in my chest, of seeing her winsome smile, and of spending my remaining life with her, but not, ever never, of letting her down and of seeing her being hand in hand with other guy. My thought-of things were just mere imitation of my imagination and my not-thought-of things turned out to materialize, as if I were punished for my coward. Time passed, and though chances were again and again given to me to confess my love for her, my tongue would not ever twist to bid out the words, and my courage would never be generated to push me to confess to her my affection. We had been sneaking looks at one another, and all of our friends knew and hoped we would soon make a good couple. They had been intervening to bring out good results for us two---they teased us of being couple, but, conquered by fear, I was not heeding for such; they once planned to leave us two in the class and had the door locked, but nothing fruitful at all happened, for lumps in my throat and fear of rejection whispered to me, “She doesn’t love you, even a bit. You and she are not a match.”
Too much had been digging disappointment for you to bear, I know. Clues had been dropped; however I supposed they were for him not me. Once, we were grouped in the same group to talk about tense in English, and your examples, “Why didn’t you call me last night?” and “When will you do let her know?” did not cut through me, for I believed they were for him, who sat in the same group. You did not quit and attempted other attempts. You walked him to make me jealous, and I was not jealous but thought you were going out with him. My love for you gradually faded away, and yours attempts gradually grew weaker. “It is clearly visible, Villa! She has no you.” I told myself, and my self-talk created an unforgivable mistake I have ever made. Sometimes, I did not believe it was true and resisted to keep fighting for us two to start a true journey to seek love. Again, it worked very little and wind blew it away. I grew a bit brave to see you in my eyes, to convince myself you and him were just playing to make me sense your hunger for my love and care. It was not later than Seyha, a friend of us, came and told me you had been so down for my neglecting attitudes toward you that I truly realized what I had been doing and what your true feelings toward me. It was all love, you meant, and it was all pain you gained, and it was all fool I made. “Sorry, Vorleak, I am wrong, unforgivably wrong. God, please help punish me for my brainless acts.” I cried and still cooled myself with every drop of my new acquainted friend named wine. Words will not just soothe you, I sense; and hundreds stabs in my heart will not equalize every pain you breath. Gallons of tear you cried, weights of pain you shoulder and tons of anger you hold are all result from this timid guy, this eyeless and mindless man who should no longer dwell on the earth for his speechlessly maybe-she-doesn’t-love-you acts. Yes I will pay all for what I owe you, Vorleak. I will ‘painfulise’ myself.”
Actually, he had already murder his mind and he who you see right now is not Villa at all; he is just a drunkard man whose brain had stopped working and whose minds had refused to stay with him, for they said he was too cruel to make an innocent girl cry and to insert a range of hurt into her.
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