In Continuum.

These Five Words Tonight

I traced the pipes lining the walls with my eyes,the red clock flashing by on the screen above,an hour till the end of my duty.I didnt have a watch,and every second on that chair at the back of the vehicle shed felt like eons.The placed smelled like rotten food,with the packet of ration on it's side,with its contents spilled out over the grease-stained floor.Martin slept quietly on the stretcher,within a metre radius of the rotting vegetable,and i wondered how he managed to fall asleep under such extreme conditions.The rainwater kept on dripping from the metal roof,and the splashing of those on the ground were the only sounds i heard that night,aside from Martin's soft breathing,as i desperately tried to keep myself awake by talking to myself and singing a random tune.

Imaginary circles on the ground,the dust swirled under my boots and a cloud of them formed.I kept talking,and i almost forgot about the existence of the others sleeping behind the pillar.I talked anyway,a habit i have not recollection of when it started.It just sort of did i guess,and i remember my friends and I arguing if it is a sign of somebody going crazy.Timothy,i remember,disagreed on that,while the others turned a queer eye at me,wondering about a loose screw and a faulty wire.

I started with the beginning,and talked my way through to the first meeting.I talked about what you wore,and i talked about where i stood when i first saw you.I talked about what i first said,and i talked about your smile.I talked about the fireworks when we talked over the phone,and i talked about the rain.I talked about the Smarties,and i talked about the outline of your hand in my notebook.I talked about what you wore again,and i talked about the poem i wrote.I talked about the song i wrote about you,and i talked about the concert over the telephone.I talked about the overnight conversation you still owe me,and i talked about the impulsive trip to your place.I talked about what you wore as you dashed out of your place,i talked about the warmth of the brownies against my thighs.I talked about the smudged handwriting in the card,and i talked about you reading it three times over on the floor that night.I talked about the brownies becoming your breakfast the next morning,and i talked about how they made your day.I talked about you walking through the rain and telling me about it,and i talked about how i was walking through the rain when you did so.I talked about the playground we sat at and talked for four hours straight,and i talked about you waving goodbye through the cab window.I talked about birthday present Ahmad spotted for me at Wheelock's,and i talked about meeting your brother outside your home.I talked about the cafe we had our lunch at,and i talked about the graffitti i left on the wall.I talked about the drawing you did of me as a baby,and i talked about you calling me a bad dancer.I talked about how the charity workers mistook us for a couple,and i talked about the only purple heart left in their hand.I talked about the million times we tried to take a photograph on the train,and i talked about how dumb i looked in it.I talked about the the special message that i saved in my old phone,and i talked about me losing the phone afterwards.I talked about the shock in the McDonald's,and i talked about your little secret.I talked about the walk we had to your house where i borrowed a toilet,and i talked about the last time you waved goodbye through the cab window.I talked about the silence that preceeded,and i talked about the messaged that followed soon after.I talked about the silence,and i talked about my silence.I talked about my scream that followed after,and i talked somemore about your utter silence.I talked about us not talking,and i talked about me talking to myself.I talked about hating you,and i talked even more about loving you...

I talked and talked,and i was going nowhere.It's not like there was an audience before me to hear my story,or even a cat this time to stare at me with those big watery eyes,all confused and innocent.I was there all alone,and only myself to seek comfort in.I traced my eyes along the pipes along the wall somemore,and they led to nowhere,with my eye-sight eventually losing the pipe at the very end of the darkness on the other side of the shed,and wondered if that was a representation of my present state.

Thursday night,it was a little past 12.30am.I was in my bunk,unable to sleep because of the adrenaline rush from the Taboo game.That was fun,i thought.Kept my mind off things.I messaged a friend of mine,and she replied,depressed.Dreaming and thinking about the same person can be tough,cant it?It's torture,and it grinds you done to the bone,and you bleed so much you dont feel anymore.But you are so numb it hurts,did that even make sense?

I told her,and in a way i told myself,that if there were good memories,then they should be treasured,because after it is these memories that piece us up,make us uniquely us and different from others.They can either make or break us,and when they do make us,we are always so much more beautiful than we were before.That is my opinion,and i think if she didnt kill you physically,she already made you stronger.

Sara once asked if i ever cried over this.I told her that i didnt,and i told her that i didnt know why either.But i know now,i know why.Because she is the reason of who i am today,shaped me and moulded me into who i am,this brave soul,bracing the harshness of life and the likes.

What couldve been worse than NS life?Five days in camp was enough to put me on the edge of my window ledge nineteen storys above the ground floor.Five days in camp was enough to put the edge of a knife to my wrist,and all it took was a couple of more weeks to make it come to life,make that happen.But there was a motivation,a light at the end of the tunnel,a person at the end of the week.We talked every weekend,and i remember looking forward to that every single day of the week.I knew,that it didnt matter how much i was going through,how tough the training was.Because at the very end is the ultimate consolation,the very best of all salvations.

So she roughened me up for the test,and subconsciously i became this stronger person because i've always had that motivation at the end of the week,even if she is not around for me.Not anymore.She,completed the puzzle of who i am today.She completed me.

And today,on a strange misty Saturday afternoon,i am wondering about all the emotions that every directed my fingers on these keyboards,typing out all the different feelings that i have had over this issue.Anger,jealousy,love,regret,despair,repair,envy and so much more.All those emotions came and went over the keys of the keyboard,reflected upon the page of this very blog.But it's not like i meant most of those things,or rather it's not like any of those were long lasting.I dont hold grudges,because it is not in me to do so.I merely think back,and smile and cry at times.At the end of the day there is no hate,there is no anger.There are no tears and there is no jealousy.Only a couple of words,and a heart felt warmth deep inside that i never gotten them out before.I feel,that as a person who changed my life so dramatically and so drastically,i feel like i owe you some kind of apology,or a "Thank You",somehow.

Thank You for Loving Me.Just these five words i give you.As honest as it sounds,i hope you read this.I really do.And i meant it,i really did.