Hello From The Other Side

The song, as you might have known or heard, is a huge hit. Despite the painful memory it seems to have brought back, I've been listening to it, just like, probably, you and others out there. It's been the hundredth time already. It's melodious while at the same time stabbing too, for which reason I dislike, for a short moment, the crew who's made this song happen. It hurts, you know. The wound has just got better a bit and now it is triggered once again. I've tried to suppress the fought-back pain. It ain't easy. 

I listen to it and try to indulge, calmly, in its sublime-ty. Silence won't just work. The meaning is so strong that I feel shaken, most of the times, as the tune drags on. Especially at nighttime when I try to sleep. In a way, it's serenading. In another way, when the words shoot through, from my ears to my head, my chest pounds; chokingly. It's true. It's just too strong to resist. So powerful. Why are you back? I know you listen to that too. I still check up on Facebook. I've seen that. So that one specific night when, just like other days, darkness ruled the world, I couldn't stand the song as I listened to it. Every words stabbed through my chest and throbbed to my blood. I felt pain once again after all these years I've been trying to get over it, moving on. Why would you come back? Why would you leave in the first place? There were voices all over, in my head. I couldn't sleep. The voices were too strong and loud. It ain't a fantasy. It's bombarding. It almost exploded, I swear. It hurt. I wanted an answer, a satisfying one. I, then, realized I didn't even stand a chance in the first place. I ain't even in the game. There are too many things I want to ask. I want to know; answered. It's just childish wants, after all.  

And, you know, every time, such happen, one sure thing works for me; would soothe me. Writing. It helps. A lot. I've learnt that. Did that. Experienced it. It calms my frustration over you and the past. Maybe, un-dramatically, I could just turn that song off and things will better. But, it ain't, honestly. I've been silent since your last letter, which I read with dramatic tears. I chose to do so. It'll help, I thought. Yet, there are, too, a lot I want to talk and tell you; but I don't dare to. There is something inside me that you might not understand. Pain, they say, demands to be felt. I've felt it daily. It crippled me. Weakened me, mostly. I was a loser, I told myself. Such a big, messed-up one! I tried. I deviated from the thought. Your letter came. It took me days to finally be bold enough to decide to open and peruse through it, which gave me pain then. I really wanted to meet. To write you back clarifying things to you and telling you about me and everything. I made peace with those frustrations, instead. With struggles. It went well, though. Silence, I've learnt, is good too. So is loneliness.  I've gained calmness. And tried to live. It's been okay. 

Then Adele released this song. You shared it and I saw it. I've listened to it. Even analyzed it. It's just too true. Things, unsolved and unanswered, don't actually fly away. I'm so wrong. 

That night, which was just several weeks ago, no doubt, I woke to wrote. I just wanted to toss this uneased feeling back to trash and to earn peace so that I could sleep. I turned on my laptop. I didn't touch the draft to my new book (that book you read--maybe now you have some ideas who really wrote it). I was still listening to it despite its two-sided influence. Nothing came out. The words of this song droned on. I saw you, your face, in the screen. Your smiles. My tears dropped. Parts of my chest ached, trembling, and I could feel the sound of my heart pounding, which was unusually quick and rushing. You just re-existed, and I heard your voice singing the lyric. I could feel the connection. I could see you, I mean. I visualized you. You were Adele from the video. It's messed up, I told my pain. It ain't true. It's just a pain-fulfilling fantasy. My finger didn't write nothing; my brain literally had just numbed. I stared at the blank screen while you kept existing gradually. The memories drew back gradually itself, which was, to me, why-it-has-to-be-so-ish. The dog outside howled and the wind hissed across. "Hello, it's me" then appeared on the screen as my finger pressed the keyboard. It went on. Here, thus, comes this reply song.    

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Hello From The Other Side

Hello, it's me. 

I'm pondering why after these years you'd like to meet

To recall the past which's long gone.

They say that pain's supposed to change ya, but I ain't done much growing.

Hello, can you stop calling? 

I'm in Phnom Penh fantasizing the good life we might've had together.

When we're nearby, sharing all the love. 

But that's just a fantasy now that we live miles apart.

There's no such second chance between us. 

Neither guilt, nor sorry.

Hello from the other side

You must've called a thousand times. 

To tell me that you're sorry for everything you've done. 

But, those calls don't seem to fix the broken pieces.

Hello from the inside. 

Yeah, at least I can see that you've tried. 

To show me you've felt guilty for breaking my heart.

Yeah, it don't matter. And, of course, I'm no more torn apart 'cause I'm used to it.

Hello, I'm almost fine. 

It's such okay thing to talk about oneself; no sorry. 

I hope you're well too. 

Did you ever imagine how helly hard it is I've been going through? 

It's just crystal that the both of us 

Aren't getting back to that.

So hello from the other side. 

You must've called a thousand times. 

To tell me that you're sorry for everything you've done. 

But, those calls don't seem to fix the broken pieces.

Hello from the inside. 

Yeah, at least I can see that you've tried. 

To show me you've felt guilty for breaking my heart.

Yeah, it don't matter. And, of course, I'm no more torn apart 'cause I'm used to it.

Used to it, ohhhhhh

Used to it, ohhhhhh

Used to it, ohhhhhh

Used to it, I'm used to it.

Hello from the other side. 

You must've called a thousand times.

To tell me that you're sorry for everything you've done. 

But, those calls don't seem to fix the broken pieces.

Hello from the inside. 

Yeah, at least I can see that you've tried. 

To show me you've felt guilty for breaking my heart.

Yeah, it don't matter. And, of course, I'm no more torn apart 'cause I'm used to it.

----------------

It's midnight here. The song is still playing, but I've been soothed. I saw my mum's smile from the corner, from the black-white photograph in a frame. It's time to go back to sleep. I'm sorry I've just wrote this song. 

  

Like above, there are a lot I want to tell. But, shortly, things between us could just be said as over. It's over between us. That might sound mean but it's true. Acceptance, I've learnt, works. I've tried it. The choice is yours and mine to make. Pain demands to be felt. Now I realized guilt too demands the same treatment. You've lived well. No guilt, eh! The pain's on me. Not you. We've led, respectively, difficult lives. You shouldn't be hard on yourself. 

I remember reading a quote somewhere, which goes "Life is filled with unanswered questions, but it is the courage to seek those answers that continues to give meaning to life. You can spend your life wallowing in despair, wondering why you were the one who was led towards the road strewn with pain, or you can be grateful that you are strong enough to survive it." 

For the moment, I'm grateful. I shall go back to sleep. Thank you! :D   

Hello, Chakriya! 

This piece is about #Veasna&Chakriya. Read the starting and developing ones here: The Motivating Promise and Chakriya's Letter.... 

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