A Road Trip Conversation

Do you have a piece of paper?” I ask keeping my eyes on the expressway, both hands on the steering wheel.

For what?” He answers my question with a question while scrolling through a playlist on his phone.

My gum.”

He says nothing, but instead holds his hand out near my chin.

I stare at the hand that was so close to my face for a solid second before returning my attention back to the road. “Your hand is not a piece of paper.”

He selects a song, one I’ve never heard before, but continues on looking for another song to play next.

“I had no idea, Captain Obvious.” A small grin starts to tug the corner of his lips as he lightly pinches my chin and I make a face. “C’mon,” he says, his tone still playful. “I know how much you hate gum when it loses its flavor. Spit it out.

What?” I say even though I heard him clear as day. “No, that’s disgusting.”

Disgusting?” This is when he finally looks up and raises an eyebrow. “We exchange saliva with our mouths and don’t even get me started with-

You’vemadeyourpoint,” I say, not wanting him to finish his sentence, in a rush, cheeks heating up.

I spit the gum out.

Y

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1:33 AM thoughts

It is late and it is dark and it is cold. I am alone with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company. There are words needed to be said and realities to confront, but instead of being brave, I end up conjuring my very own little bubble of paradise. It is my escape route, my happy place. I close my eyes and I am there. It is only for the time being. It will end, this I know to be true. But at least for now, it isn’t late and it isn’t dark and it isn’t cold.

Y

hustisya

May your actions haunt you for the rest of your days. May you listen to your conscience no matter how low it whispers. May you still manage to find your humanity at the very bottom of your soul. For you are now branded as cowards and murderers. Be aware that this is a test of what matters most. You all know what the right thing to do is. Have the fucking balls to do it.

Y

The Crossroads

We are walking in a silence that used to be familiar and safe. We are now strangers who know each other the most. And as we place one foot after the other, the sound of leaves crunching beneath our shoes, our steps no longer in sync, we both silently wonder… how did it ever come to this?

Talk,” you finally say, your voice calm and defeated. You are terrified. I am too. This conversation is long overdue. “And I’ll listen.”

I shake my head because that’s what we are, that’s what we do. We are polar opposites. We contradict. We collide.

Ask,” I murmur enough for you to hear. “And I’ll answer.”

You smile, it was once my favorite smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

I hold my breath, waiting for your response. I clench my hands into fists so you won’t see how tremendously they’re shaking.

We have gone so far on this path we chose to take. We have danced to hundreds of love songs and slain thousands of dragons. But we are almost at the the crossroads and we are both aware that upon reaching it, we will be going our separate ways. For our destinations are no longer the same.

I take your hand in mine one last time and I do not intend to let go until the final second. Although this is not the ending we expected, we are ending our journey the way we started it. Together.

You open your mouth to speak.

And I am ready. We both are.

Y

My Lone Soldier

I’ve always thought that the line “You saved me.” from books or movies were little white lies. That it was a ploy to get hearts to flutter. Or maybe it was a trigger for all kinds of emotions. Maybe it was just for added effect, the cherry on top.

But most especially, I didn’t like the thought that I needed help to be saved or that I needed saving. I was my own warrior. I did not need a knight in shining armor.  I’ve made it this far, haven’t I?

Here’s the thing.

I have gotten used to fighting this battle between myself and I with no one to rely on that I have been blinded. I have traveled long and far on foot. I have slain every demon my mind has conjured. I was way too over my head that when I reached the edge of the water, I did not hesitate to board the ship on the dock not realizing that it was filled with pirates masked as sailors.

I was outnumbered and the shore was already miles away but that has never stopped me before. This was different. This was more than just the pirates. This was every single one of my inner demons. For the very first time in a long time, I had this gut wrenching feeling that I knew that I was going to lose.

And I did.

Because I let it.

An anchor was tied around myself as they pushed me overboard and the moment I hit rock bottom, I never wondered how long would it take me to get right back to the surface, because I’ve accepted the fact that this was the end-game. There was still so much fighting that needed to be done that maybe if I closed my eyes and held my breath a little longer, then maybe there will be no more of this madness. The rolling credits were near and all I had to do was wait.

However at the very last second, when I least expected it, you came along and pulled me back up from the bottom of the ocean, anchor still intact.

Here’s the magic in the situation, there was always help. From the very beginning. I was simply too selfish and refused to accept a helping hand.

Being saved is not a sign of weakness.

I know that now.

Sometimes it’s okay to have an army  or maybe just one soldier who has your back in this battle against oneself. That’s what you told me.

This, to you my lone soldier, I say with every ounce of gratitude, “you saved me.”

-Y

Pastels and Grays

I am a stranger to myself. When I am alone, I either feel too much or nothing at all. It is something that I try and fail to shake off. It is an annoying shadow, a never ending tapping sound, a thief in the night. At times it is sudden. At times I hear its footsteps coming closer long before it even arrives. My heart can win a marathon at how fast it beats at night when all thoughts consume my existence as I lay awake until I am too exhausted to think. I like to say that I’ve mastered the art of faking a smile. Quite easy, actually, I could show you how. It is disguised in colorful paintings, in the corniest of jokes, in a single sigh.

I have this nagging feeling that I have an entire stadium full of people just waiting for me to crumble and they’re getting what they want.

But I can’t let them.

For I am stronger than this.

I better be.

Y