The both of you diligently sat inside the taxi on opposing ends, a tense silence filled the ride that the taxi driver could not fail to notice. Every so often, the driver would shoot a quick glance in his rear view mirror and noted that both of your positions had not changed since the beginning of the ride. Your left elbow was perched on the little bit of the car window still, while your head rested on your hand. Your legs tucked closely together, slightly tilting and moving at the car ride’s bumps and turns. You were looking at the window, observing the fast cars and street signs passing by, averting his gaze.

You stiffly sat in the same position throughout the ride, ignoring the fact that both your arm and legs were slowly falling asleep.  Refusing to move and make yourself more comfortable, you avoided getting too close to him as much as possible. While you sat on your side pretending to be absorbed in the surrounding on the other side of the window, you couldn't ignore the fact that you could feel him. While you guiltily refused to glance at him, you could feel the resentment and disappointment his body permeated in the air mixing with the smell of tobacco and tar in the car. You wanted to turn around and sit close to him, touch him, comfort him, but you couldn't. You stopped yourself from doing any of these because you decided a boundary needed to be established now that you guys were no longer dating.

From his rear view mirror, the driver perceived similar stressed sentiments as well by the looks of his male passenger’s slumped shoulders that leaned against the door and expressionless gaze. The silence overwhelmed both you and the driver, so when the thundering rain started pouring suddenly, both of you gladly welcomed it, taking this chance to catch a small break. Hoping to release some of the tension in the air, the driver turned on the radio station, distracting himself from the awkward situation in his backseats. Inside of your heart, you silently wished the driver didn't try so hard to make light of this situation. His poor attempts at relaxing the atmosphere only made you more uncomfortable and embarrassed.

He tried to remain as calm and stable as possible, however his mind was running in millions of different directions. His heart was racing as fast as the motorbike that crept upon on their cab, halting them to a screeching stop. At first instinct, his hands immediately went to cover you, like the usual, protecting you from bumping against the driver seat. While the driver was busy screaming his head out at the irresponsible motorbike driver, his hands shared a fleeting touch against your skin, and the both of you were brought back into reality in one glance at each other. You flinched at his touch, your eyes questioned his move, your heart feeling heavy once more, a pang of remorse and hurt hitting you.

He cowardly jerked back his hand embarrassed, afraid that you might say something, but you didn’t; your eyes told everything he needed to hear. Why are you like this? Why do you care so much for me, the me who only did terrible things to you? You didn't need to say anything for him to notice how uncomfortable you felt just being around him now. You were always like this whenever you got into arguments; you avoided confrontation like the plague, fearing people’s words, evading reality. That’s what you always did and he always loathed you for it. So it came to him with no surprise that you hadn't thought of exchanging another word with him since you had last told the driver the destination to your ride.

He observed you as you sat there carefully keeping your space, eyes searching you. He couldn't bring himself to accept what had happened earlier. Recalling your conversation with you a few hours ago, he still couldn't believe what had just happened. It had happened all so fast that everything still seemed like a blur to him, his mind and heart were still in daze and couldn't quite adapt to the reality just yet. You had called him over after his last schedule, asking to meet him. He thought of it as a surprised last minute date and had begun anticipating it while he was diligently finishing his last schedule. When you met up at the nearby coffee shop near the recording station, he noticed how anguished you seemed and how your red eyes were brimming with tears. In that moment, when he approached towards you to embrace you and you responded coldly, he knew where this was headed.

Instead of asking you upfront what was wrong, he cut you off with his chatter about how his day had been. You knew that he ignored your state and instead was trying to evade the reason why you had abruptly decided to meet him up. He successfully dodged your attempts at starting the conversation with a few of his own, pretending not to notice your pleading eyes and imploring mutters. You knew he was avoiding what you were about to bring up to him, and you let him have his way for a few minutes, feeling guilty about the pain you were about to inflict on him. After he had finished sharing his joke that he had been told by a member of his staff, he got silent.  He didn't have to ask to know what you were about to say. Staring right into your eyes, he sensed the words that would have come out of your mouth. He understood your feelings in that split second while looking straight into your eyes, and in that moment, you saw his heart break while exchanging looks with him.

Exhaling, he grabbed your hand, trembling, pulling you up and along to the counter to pay for your drinks, trying to remain calm and steady. Then, he dragged you outside where the both of you were greeted with the gloomy weather. Unnerved, he reached out to feel his back pocket, searching for his cigarettes after hailing a cab over. You usually would have stopped him, smacked his hands away from lighting the cigarette up, a terrible habit you thought, but not today. Today, you gave him your time, worries and care away, letting him have his way one last time. You felt like you owed at least this much to him for breaking his heart. 

When the taxi pulled over, he opened the door for you, and the both of you silently got in, each of you maintaining to your own personal space. You could tell that he was in no mood to talk, so you retreated in your own corner and nervously waited to hear from him after telling the driver the address to your apartment. As he sat there ignoring you, he shamefully tried to hide the tears that were starting to form in his eyes with his hands, his rough fingers brushing them off crudely. He would never give you that satisfaction; he owed you nothing, he thought, you did not deserve the tears he was shedding anymore.

You sat there listening to his choked sobs, wiped sniffles, pretending to not hear anything. While his heart had been broken in pieces, he still had his dignity and you would not dare to take this part of him. After a few minutes, he regained his composure and a silence filled the car. Upon this, your stomach tightened more knots; a silence from him was never a good sign. His stillness paralyzed you and you felt guilty for dragging down the taxi driver along this hellish ride as well. Your heart burned with remorse and shame while his burned with desire for answers and reason.

What did I do wrong? What mistakes did I make that brought us up to this point? Did I not love you enough? Did I not give you pieces of myself for you to keep forever? Did I not give it my all? Did I not give you my heart? Those were the kind of thoughts and questions that settled in his throat, enclosing entrance for air, choking him and his heart. His eyes were fuming with rage, his heart like an awakened volcano, no longer dormant. The rain falling outside could not calm the atmosphere inside this taxicab. Fearing his reproaching words, you cowered further in your seat, your lips and fingers trembling at the thought of his wrath.

At last, the car halted to a slow stop, pulling over in front of your apartment complexes; you were brought back into reality in a quick second. You shuffled around, unbuckling your belt, seizing your purse in a quick motion. Ready to leave and be welcome by the rain, your fingers tightened around the handle, reading to pull open but you lingered for a second, stalling time. You mustered enough courage to mutter in a coarse whisper, going against the flow withheld in your tightened throat, finalizing your journey, “I’m sorry.” As your fingers pulled open the handle, your elbow pushing the door, legs stretched out to get up, your head ducking the car railing, he circled his fingers around your wrist pulling you back in a sharp motion.

Forcefully lugged backwards, you wanted to complain about the pinching of your skin by his fingers, causing it to turn slightly red but your words were cut short with his stare. He then murmured aloud, his lips and heart shaken and trembling, “Why?” His eyes were questioning you, piercing straight into your soul; he should have let you go, but he couldn't bring himself to end your relationship like this, so he asked knowing he would probably suffer some more.

Taken aback with his question, your heart stopped beating for a second, paralyzed in fright. Your lips were quivering in panic, searching for an answer to reply him but all you could mumble were shameful apologies, repeating “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” endlessly while tears were rapidly falling down, staining your cheeks and neck along the way. The guilt that had been eating you away for days, hours and minutes on end finally brought you to your knees, breaking you down. You had nowhere to hide and nothing to lose, except your sanity. 

Irritated with your response and guilt, he lashed out at you, “You can’t just say sorry and expect me to accept that. I want to know why. Why? Did I do something wrong? Why? Tell me why…give me a reason” forcing his grip around your wrist a bit more. The look in his eyes killed you, it told you how badly you had hurt him, how many pieces you had broken inside his heart. You trembled as you answered him, hoping to sound calm and rational, “Because, I misunderstood. I misunderstood my own feelings. I thought that maybe you could give me it all, but…I’m selfish and I want more. I’m greedy and I couldn’t settle. I couldn’t accept your heart. I couldn’t accept what you gave me and settle for that. I’m so sorry. I should have told you earlier when I realized it instead of letting you go on. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for letting you feel this way. I’m so sorry your feelings became so one-sided because of my greed. I’m so sorry.”

Hearing your words coming out of your mouth, he expected nothing less. It was a typical, “it’s not you, it’s me” answer. “How cunning,” he thought. He knew that nothing could be done to repair these broken pieces because this wasn’t something one could fix. He felt cheated that you used such reason on him because you knew he was weak against such answer. To him, you had deceived his heart and it made him want to question your entire relationship. There was nothing more that he could do than simply just accept what had happened. In no way could he try to make you love him more, in no way could he try to love you less, in no way could he stop from trying to love you. It was a dead end.

Defeated, he loosened his grip around your wrist, preparing himself to let you go, but he gently pulled you back, tugging on your arm faintly one last time. His eyes looking up to yours, he softly whispered, broken, “Are you sure about this? Once I let go, I won’t come searching for you. I won’t look back. I’ll forget about us, you. I’ll bury these memories for good. This is goodbye forever…you know that right?”

You looked in his eyes, questioning yourself, reflecting on his words. Doubting your feelings, you considered, “Perhaps I should reconsider, perhaps I was wrong, perhaps all the love he gave me was enough…” However after a split second deliberation, tempted as you were to stay with him, you nodded your head, giving him your final answer to his question. While your mind urged you to accept his reaching hand and settle back down, your heart told you otherwise. That it wasn’t fair that you should benefit from this one-sided affair. That it wasn't fair to him to let him love you when you could not return that love. That it wasn't fair for you to leave him misunderstood. That it wasn't fair for you to not find your own kind of love. A love in which you had always imagined two people madly in love with one another; not more, not less, but just as crazy for each other.

After sharing your answer with him, you loosely shook his hand off your wrist, detaching yourself from his reach. Your mouth began to form words to apologize for behaving like this, but you stopped yourself. Actually, you probably could have kept on apologize forever to him and you probably will be, but in that moment when he pierced your gaze with his own at your answer to his question, he remained still, shocked. Taking this small opportunity, you forced yourself out of the car, closing the door behind you, leaving him.

You walked towards the curb, rain drenching your clothes, blending within the tears that had slowly started dripping on your cheeks. Inside the car, it seemed to him that now with you gone, time had been stretched ever further. A morbid silence filled the empty presence you had left him with. Upon queue, the driver started the car again and patiently asked him, feeling sympathy for him after such situation, “Where to, sir?” Running for your apartment building, you looked back one more time at the taxi starting to drive away and through the rear view window, you saw his motionless body laying still, eyes closed. What you didn't see was the response that came out of his mouth, appalling the driver. “Take me to a place where hearts can never be broken and feelings never misunderstood.”

I don't know, but as much as I like happy endings and things like that, I think it's inevitable that everything has to come to an end no matter how perfect it once was. I think what I got from the above was that I think it's never easy to find someone or anyone or even a group of people who would give equally, just like how it's hard to be equal to love. The one who is at the receiving end feels good about him/herself until it comes a point where it's unbearable; and the one giving finds it a joy to give his/her very best, until it gets tiring. And of course the fact that we never know what one person is thinking or feeling because we don't express ourselves enough so often that words and actions are useless because they were a tad bit too late. It's because we have so many emotions and feelings that we would like to let many people know, be it good or bad, but we always lose the opportunity to do so because we delay and delay and delay. Or we simply bottle them up and we never tell anyone. 

On a side note, I really am grateful for things like Tumblr because it's over there where you never feel selfish because everyone's there to share thoughts and words and the beauty of everyday life. It's amazing how people are all over the world but they still come together in front of their screens and see so much just from where they are. It's great, really. And more so when I can find such beautiful things on Tumblr (: 

Alright, that's all for today (: Good luck for all remaining papers (:

xoxo,

me 

The both of you diligently sat inside the taxi on opposing ends, a tense silence filled the ride that the taxi driver could not fail to notice. Every so often, the driver would shoot a quick glance in his rear view mirror and noted that both of your positions had not changed since the beginning of the ride. Your left elbow was perched on the little bit of the car window still, while your head rested on your hand. Your legs tucked closely together, slightly tilting and moving at the car ride’s bumps and turns. You were looking at the window, observing the fast cars and street signs passing by, averting his gaze.

You stiffly sat in the same position throughout the ride, ignoring the fact that both your arm and legs were slowly falling asleep.  Refusing to move and make yourself more comfortable, you avoided getting too close to him as much as possible. While you sat on your side pretending to be absorbed in the surrounding on the other side of the window, you couldn't ignore the fact that you could feel him. While you guiltily refused to glance at him, you could feel the resentment and disappointment his body permeated in the air mixing with the smell of tobacco and tar in the car. You wanted to turn around and sit close to him, touch him, comfort him, but you couldn't. You stopped yourself from doing any of these because you decided a boundary needed to be established now that you guys were no longer dating.

From his rear view mirror, the driver perceived similar stressed sentiments as well by the looks of his male passenger’s slumped shoulders that leaned against the door and expressionless gaze. The silence overwhelmed both you and the driver, so when the thundering rain started pouring suddenly, both of you gladly welcomed it, taking this chance to catch a small break. Hoping to release some of the tension in the air, the driver turned on the radio station, distracting himself from the awkward situation in his backseats. Inside of your heart, you silently wished the driver didn't try so hard to make light of this situation. His poor attempts at relaxing the atmosphere only made you more uncomfortable and embarrassed.

He tried to remain as calm and stable as possible, however his mind was running in millions of different directions. His heart was racing as fast as the motorbike that crept upon on their cab, halting them to a screeching stop. At first instinct, his hands immediately went to cover you, like the usual, protecting you from bumping against the driver seat. While the driver was busy screaming his head out at the irresponsible motorbike driver, his hands shared a fleeting touch against your skin, and the both of you were brought back into reality in one glance at each other. You flinched at his touch, your eyes questioned his move, your heart feeling heavy once more, a pang of remorse and hurt hitting you.

He cowardly jerked back his hand embarrassed, afraid that you might say something, but you didn’t; your eyes told everything he needed to hear. Why are you like this? Why do you care so much for me, the me who only did terrible things to you? You didn't need to say anything for him to notice how uncomfortable you felt just being around him now. You were always like this whenever you got into arguments; you avoided confrontation like the plague, fearing people’s words, evading reality. That’s what you always did and he always loathed you for it. So it came to him with no surprise that you hadn't thought of exchanging another word with him since you had last told the driver the destination to your ride.

He observed you as you sat there carefully keeping your space, eyes searching you. He couldn't bring himself to accept what had happened earlier. Recalling your conversation with you a few hours ago, he still couldn't believe what had just happened. It had happened all so fast that everything still seemed like a blur to him, his mind and heart were still in daze and couldn't quite adapt to the reality just yet. You had called him over after his last schedule, asking to meet him. He thought of it as a surprised last minute date and had begun anticipating it while he was diligently finishing his last schedule. When you met up at the nearby coffee shop near the recording station, he noticed how anguished you seemed and how your red eyes were brimming with tears. In that moment, when he approached towards you to embrace you and you responded coldly, he knew where this was headed.

Instead of asking you upfront what was wrong, he cut you off with his chatter about how his day had been. You knew that he ignored your state and instead was trying to evade the reason why you had abruptly decided to meet him up. He successfully dodged your attempts at starting the conversation with a few of his own, pretending not to notice your pleading eyes and imploring mutters. You knew he was avoiding what you were about to bring up to him, and you let him have his way for a few minutes, feeling guilty about the pain you were about to inflict on him. After he had finished sharing his joke that he had been told by a member of his staff, he got silent.  He didn't have to ask to know what you were about to say. Staring right into your eyes, he sensed the words that would have come out of your mouth. He understood your feelings in that split second while looking straight into your eyes, and in that moment, you saw his heart break while exchanging looks with him.

Exhaling, he grabbed your hand, trembling, pulling you up and along to the counter to pay for your drinks, trying to remain calm and steady. Then, he dragged you outside where the both of you were greeted with the gloomy weather. Unnerved, he reached out to feel his back pocket, searching for his cigarettes after hailing a cab over. You usually would have stopped him, smacked his hands away from lighting the cigarette up, a terrible habit you thought, but not today. Today, you gave him your time, worries and care away, letting him have his way one last time. You felt like you owed at least this much to him for breaking his heart. 

When the taxi pulled over, he opened the door for you, and the both of you silently got in, each of you maintaining to your own personal space. You could tell that he was in no mood to talk, so you retreated in your own corner and nervously waited to hear from him after telling the driver the address to your apartment. As he sat there ignoring you, he shamefully tried to hide the tears that were starting to form in his eyes with his hands, his rough fingers brushing them off crudely. He would never give you that satisfaction; he owed you nothing, he thought, you did not deserve the tears he was shedding anymore.

You sat there listening to his choked sobs, wiped sniffles, pretending to not hear anything. While his heart had been broken in pieces, he still had his dignity and you would not dare to take this part of him. After a few minutes, he regained his composure and a silence filled the car. Upon this, your stomach tightened more knots; a silence from him was never a good sign. His stillness paralyzed you and you felt guilty for dragging down the taxi driver along this hellish ride as well. Your heart burned with remorse and shame while his burned with desire for answers and reason.

What did I do wrong? What mistakes did I make that brought us up to this point? Did I not love you enough? Did I not give you pieces of myself for you to keep forever? Did I not give it my all? Did I not give you my heart? Those were the kind of thoughts and questions that settled in his throat, enclosing entrance for air, choking him and his heart. His eyes were fuming with rage, his heart like an awakened volcano, no longer dormant. The rain falling outside could not calm the atmosphere inside this taxicab. Fearing his reproaching words, you cowered further in your seat, your lips and fingers trembling at the thought of his wrath.

At last, the car halted to a slow stop, pulling over in front of your apartment complexes; you were brought back into reality in a quick second. You shuffled around, unbuckling your belt, seizing your purse in a quick motion. Ready to leave and be welcome by the rain, your fingers tightened around the handle, reading to pull open but you lingered for a second, stalling time. You mustered enough courage to mutter in a coarse whisper, going against the flow withheld in your tightened throat, finalizing your journey, “I’m sorry.” As your fingers pulled open the handle, your elbow pushing the door, legs stretched out to get up, your head ducking the car railing, he circled his fingers around your wrist pulling you back in a sharp motion.

Forcefully lugged backwards, you wanted to complain about the pinching of your skin by his fingers, causing it to turn slightly red but your words were cut short with his stare. He then murmured aloud, his lips and heart shaken and trembling, “Why?” His eyes were questioning you, piercing straight into your soul; he should have let you go, but he couldn't bring himself to end your relationship like this, so he asked knowing he would probably suffer some more.

Taken aback with his question, your heart stopped beating for a second, paralyzed in fright. Your lips were quivering in panic, searching for an answer to reply him but all you could mumble were shameful apologies, repeating “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” endlessly while tears were rapidly falling down, staining your cheeks and neck along the way. The guilt that had been eating you away for days, hours and minutes on end finally brought you to your knees, breaking you down. You had nowhere to hide and nothing to lose, except your sanity. 

Irritated with your response and guilt, he lashed out at you, “You can’t just say sorry and expect me to accept that. I want to know why. Why? Did I do something wrong? Why? Tell me why…give me a reason” forcing his grip around your wrist a bit more. The look in his eyes killed you, it told you how badly you had hurt him, how many pieces you had broken inside his heart. You trembled as you answered him, hoping to sound calm and rational, “Because, I misunderstood. I misunderstood my own feelings. I thought that maybe you could give me it all, but…I’m selfish and I want more. I’m greedy and I couldn’t settle. I couldn’t accept your heart. I couldn’t accept what you gave me and settle for that. I’m so sorry. I should have told you earlier when I realized it instead of letting you go on. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for letting you feel this way. I’m so sorry your feelings became so one-sided because of my greed. I’m so sorry.”

Hearing your words coming out of your mouth, he expected nothing less. It was a typical, “it’s not you, it’s me” answer. “How cunning,” he thought. He knew that nothing could be done to repair these broken pieces because this wasn’t something one could fix. He felt cheated that you used such reason on him because you knew he was weak against such answer. To him, you had deceived his heart and it made him want to question your entire relationship. There was nothing more that he could do than simply just accept what had happened. In no way could he try to make you love him more, in no way could he try to love you less, in no way could he stop from trying to love you. It was a dead end.

Defeated, he loosened his grip around your wrist, preparing himself to let you go, but he gently pulled you back, tugging on your arm faintly one last time. His eyes looking up to yours, he softly whispered, broken, “Are you sure about this? Once I let go, I won’t come searching for you. I won’t look back. I’ll forget about us, you. I’ll bury these memories for good. This is goodbye forever…you know that right?”

You looked in his eyes, questioning yourself, reflecting on his words. Doubting your feelings, you considered, “Perhaps I should reconsider, perhaps I was wrong, perhaps all the love he gave me was enough…” However after a split second deliberation, tempted as you were to stay with him, you nodded your head, giving him your final answer to his question. While your mind urged you to accept his reaching hand and settle back down, your heart told you otherwise. That it wasn’t fair that you should benefit from this one-sided affair. That it wasn't fair to him to let him love you when you could not return that love. That it wasn't fair for you to leave him misunderstood. That it wasn't fair for you to not find your own kind of love. A love in which you had always imagined two people madly in love with one another; not more, not less, but just as crazy for each other.

After sharing your answer with him, you loosely shook his hand off your wrist, detaching yourself from his reach. Your mouth began to form words to apologize for behaving like this, but you stopped yourself. Actually, you probably could have kept on apologize forever to him and you probably will be, but in that moment when he pierced your gaze with his own at your answer to his question, he remained still, shocked. Taking this small opportunity, you forced yourself out of the car, closing the door behind you, leaving him.

You walked towards the curb, rain drenching your clothes, blending within the tears that had slowly started dripping on your cheeks. Inside the car, it seemed to him that now with you gone, time had been stretched ever further. A morbid silence filled the empty presence you had left him with. Upon queue, the driver started the car again and patiently asked him, feeling sympathy for him after such situation, “Where to, sir?” Running for your apartment building, you looked back one more time at the taxi starting to drive away and through the rear view window, you saw his motionless body laying still, eyes closed. What you didn't see was the response that came out of his mouth, appalling the driver. “Take me to a place where hearts can never be broken and feelings never misunderstood.”

I don't know, but as much as I like happy endings and things like that, I think it's inevitable that everything has to come to an end no matter how perfect it once was. I think what I got from the above was that I think it's never easy to find someone or anyone or even a group of people who would give equally, just like how it's hard to be equal to love. The one who is at the receiving end feels good about him/herself until it comes a point where it's unbearable; and the one giving finds it a joy to give his/her very best, until it gets tiring. And of course the fact that we never know what one person is thinking or feeling because we don't express ourselves enough so often that words and actions are useless because they were a tad bit too late. It's because we have so many emotions and feelings that we would like to let many people know, be it good or bad, but we always lose the opportunity to do so because we delay and delay and delay. Or we simply bottle them up and we never tell anyone. 

On a side note, I really am grateful for things like Tumblr because it's over there where you never feel selfish because everyone's there to share thoughts and words and the beauty of everyday life. It's amazing how people are all over the world but they still come together in front of their screens and see so much just from where they are. It's great, really. And more so when I can find such beautiful things on Tumblr (: 

Alright, that's all for today (: Good luck for all remaining papers (:

xoxo,

me