Saturday, January 29, 2011

the book that burns me

they teased him about 'Dina'. they laughed at the latest gossips. they talked about their university lives and any other random topics that came up. i was not really there with them, barely contributing to the conversation. at best, i was only pulling an half-ass effort. a smile, plastered onto my face, was working its charm as an amulet. i hope it would ward off any unwanted attention or question. but i should be glad for their company. in fact, i should be grateful for any forms of distraction now.

after dinner, we went for first round of drinks. soon, we crossed the streets to our next destination. more drinks followed. soon, when it was time to call it a night, i panicked. i couldn't go back so early. it would be many hours before i could drift off to sleep. so i suggested supper even when my stomach had almost reached its full capacity. they gamely (or was it gravely?)agreed and made their way towards the east side.

the food was tasteless.

the problem lies with me. i'm just buying time, hoping for less alone time. i need to escape from myself. where is my mind. where is it? i need to do exactly what you said- mind over heart. the book that lies on my bed now, belongs to her. it is already five forty in the morning, i still can't get over it. should i give into the urge to run to the bus stop, hop onto the first bus and go to your place to drop off this hot potato. i badly want to return the book. it's burning me.

i didn't run to anywhere. it's six fifty seven now, i remain in my bed.
i'm afraid to invade your personal space so suddenly, afraid that you feel suffocated that i'm being cranky and clingy. i'm clingy, clinging onto to some hope.

the truth is, i'm afraid to see someone else in that L-shaped space in your bed.

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