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Oh, brother!

“Well, best of luck! Say hi to them, and thank you for the company!”


“Oh, thank you, and send them my regards!”


“All right, I will. Goodbye!”


“Goodbye.”


The white door is closed, and, as the footsteps gradually lose themselves in the outside world, I am left alone. The beautiful, sincere smile that has been my protector during the day is struggling for existence on my face. Breathing in, hmm, and breathing out, huuum. It is a dead smile; it lost its honesty and beauty, and it so desperately tries to convey the feeling that’s missing from the heart: happiness. I look into the mirror. The feelings of the day are beginning to fade away. Today, my mind was entertained by a friend, who made me smile and laugh. We talked, and I was joyful. But he left, and now I am starting to return to where I was. The smile is still there: in its beauty, it shows my upper teeth, and makes my eyes look gorgeous, as the countenance of joy hangs on my face. Time slowly passes and the smile begins to listen to the heart: it’s over. The corners of the mouth are the first to go. What was once a broad and wonderful smile is now its old, withered form. As it dies away, my face changes, and my eyes are suddenly different: not joyous, but melancholy. The feelings of the day have almost extinguished themselves. Joy, merriment, excitement, a childlike ease of mind, laughter, and contentment are slowly evaporating through the walls. A moment passes, and they are gone. The mirror and I face each other. How I have changed! My smile is buried in the past, and the eyes have lost their brilliance; everything is so dull, and my head is tilted to the side, and my arms hang lifelessly from the shoulders. I feel sorry for the young man in the mirror. Silence has become king. Some sounds from the street, I don’t know what they are, try to break into the king’s fortress. In vain. It holds dominion over my world. The young man in the mirror is still. He takes a deep breath, and the release of air fortifies his melancholy countenance. His head droops and he is seen no more. I am alone.


Today, I was looking at her, saying nothing, as I had done many times before. I didn’t want her to notice that I was looking at her, though. As soon I noticed the slightest possibility of her returning the gaze, I averted my eyes towards something else. I wondered if she looked at me. I tried to look confident, and stared in front of myself; my face was stern, and I wanted that everyone should think that I minded my own business and that I was not interested in anyone present. I wondered if she looked at my stern expression. I tried to be dignified. I didn’t care if others thought I was dignified, I cared only for her. I had promised myself that I wouldn’t show emotion. In the whirlwind of disappointment, I had decided to withdraw from the world; from her world. I had built a wall of stern countenances, lowered eyebrows, confused looks, short speeches, long stares, and solitude. I had wanted to protect myself from the northern shores in winter, sounds of seagulls, snowy railways, desolated houses, white bare birches, long walks in autumn nights, injustice towards others, abrupt answers, and stony smiles, so I had built a wall of disinterest. But one look into her eyes and chaos is come again, and all the outer and inner walls around my desires get crushed and I am on the shore again; the fierce wind, the breaking of the waves, and the lighthouse on the island come alive and desire rules my spirit. I carried my dignified presence in her vicinity, and I felt her coldness, and she sneered at my awakened flame, and I found myself helpless, speechless, joyless. It was another failed attempt at breaking the clouds over that distant northern shore. The Sun is out of my reach. The awakened flame now burns in my heart hotter than ever before. The young man in the mirror, oh, what a pitiful creature! How his eyes pine for true affection, for those warm rays of sunshine that he thinks, no, that he knows the people surrounding him bathe in. Is he not a man worthy of those gorgeous rays? Has he not proven to be a sincere friend, a jolly companion, and inspiring orator? Hasn’t he got that unique smile that comforts and excites and warms? Haven’t his eyes that flame which melts deep ice? A miserable creature surely he must be. His obsession with her is deeply rooted in his heart. He first saw her a couple of years ago, and since then, he has grown accustomed to her being the deepest desire of his heart. In the beginning, he was encouraged by the looks, the smiles, and the warm expression of the eyes. She moved him like no other person has been able to do since. In her, he found his ideal. Her figure resembled the figure he had dreamt about. Every time she spoke, his heart beat faster. The smiles she bestowed upon him melted his heart, and a faint hope arouse in his heart. And the eyes…whenever he felt distant from her, one look at her eyes would diminish that coolness, and he would be wrapped in desires once again. But, days passed, and he felt unworthy of the love, and did nothing. His fear of being rejected beat his desire, and so he remained in the shadows, where he loved and pined and felt hopeless.


Photo: fialex / Pixabay


Narrow stony streets hand in hand we went long awaited joy secrecy i see our steps secrecy hair touches me time passes slowly the sky is clouded the houses gray silence people ask about me i sense joy in me silence i am happy i can’t talk silence silence silence can it be i feel something is coming i am not aware i realise people ask me questions murmur friends smiles i realise she is someone i know not her someone else she is someone i know i see her we sit on a bench smiles silence we look into each other smiles suppressed joy she is beautiful smiles i see her hair i realise i am married the burden is dropped i am not alone she loves me smiles her eyes wrinkle beautifully we sit on a bench everyone knows i realise the burden is dropped my soul is at peace joy we go hand in hand smiles friends company laughter laughter joy the eyes wrinkle beautifully the movements are graceful slow love not burning passion patient love i love her my soul is at peace she is someone i know she is not her i feel joy my parents sit beside me we connect we talk laughter we walk on the stony narrow streets silence the sky is gray her movements graceful her eyes wrinkle beautifully smiles smiles smiles


I saw her today walking with two guys and laughing sincerely. I felt stabbed and betrayed. I detested them, her laughter, the waving of