This Is My Life

  This is my life. A pen in one of my hands and a book pressed by the other, just waiting for an opportunity to open my pursed mouth and rid myself of my scattered thoughts. The person whom I get my chances is fast asleep, lost in his dream world. Sometimes, I let my mind wander, in hopes of reaching the world where he is so often in. This world where boundaries know not of the limits of reality, or fantasy even; a world where the only boundary is the dreamer himself. This opportunity to peek into his world is not one I am to take, and neither am I easy to do so. Yet this hope- the hope of someday reaching the world where he resides, selfishly keeps me going day by day, until one day, one week, maybe even one year or more later, till I can tell him truly what I feel about him. Not just as a friend, but as a person.

  Maple eyes only visible to the sun, hair tied messily into a sad little ponytail, a nose missing its bridge, lips that are constantly pursed and a face with a sharp tip at its chin. This is me. Always have been and always will be. The polities that have been with me all my life goes along the lines of, "Keep shooting, and if you run into a blank, start throwing rocks." As most people say or comment on that quote, "That kind of life is way too optimistic," and sure most of the time I would agree with this statement. Still, there are some minor exceptions. Take today for proof. I've been dragging myself with him through the long science periods, and the short language ones. Maybe there were fun times tossed in there, but as far as I know, I didn't have much fun today. This day is the record holder for the longest time spent with him yet it felt like a depressing day overall. This friendship which is no longer a surprise to anyone though has a little twist in it. He and I, are more than just some friends, and my view is becoming very clear.

  School ends without much fuss, so he and I begin to walk separate ways- he's going towards the side gate and I'm going towards the canteen, hunting for my friend who's staying back for extra classes. He seems as normal as ever, like the "He" who already on his way back home. He has his usual pile of homework stacked up like Mt. Everest, and is burying himself until he decides to go home or go for extra classes. His name is Aaron and he sits near the front of the class, constantly fast asleep but still ends up getting the best grades in the class. Opportunities began to expand in my life because of him. Initially, he was the person who confessed to me, and made me realize who I truly liked. Of course, I turned him down, and despite his sadness, he decided to cheer me on in my quest. Those who caught wind of this are skeptical but but I'm glad he was kind enough to help.

  Aaron whose face was buried in his work, uttered a few inaudible words before starting to lift his heavy head and turning towards me. There was an awkward silence between us for a little while. Soon though, Aaron broke this by giving me a seat and going to put his mountain away, citing that this is going to be a serious talk and no interference will be allowed. Ironically, we were sitting in the garden visible by nearly every angle, and most students who waltz by will get the wrong idea if not all of them. Either way, Aaron had gone out of his way to entertain me, so I had to at least be present with him. It's just proper manners. In the end, we spent at least an hour and a half before all the talking, scolding, and advising stopped. When it did stop however, I felt mortified about Aaron's willingness to cooperate with me despite what I had done to him. Still, that wasn't the only thing I was mortified about. When I was going home, it felt like the road in front of me was splitting into an infinite number of possibilities. Which one then, is the one path of light?

  Thus, tomorrow came, as sure as I knew I would not be falling sick today. I made many careful decisions today; making sure my hair was less messy, making sure I looked well enough to be presentable. This was because the day that was on its way was going to strike someone's life hard, either his or mine. This all became a thing when Aaron invited him to the class drama practice today,to be a part of the audience and give a sense of authority for the actors. I too will be there with him, and with the approval of the drama team, I'm all clear to scout for good opportunities during the practice. Aaron says he's coming for sure, knowing that he loves to see plays and dramas, and will make an opportunist's life a thousand times easier when the person is interested in the activity that they are involved in. My real question though, is when did he suddenly like to watch dramas? In all my human memories with him, he has shown a strong dissent towards dramas, which only leads me to assume that he changed, but since when? The questions made the rest of the day more difficult to go through.

  The day went as slowly as it could, trying to stop me from this big opportunity, but finally, I arrived to the beginning of my resolution, at the school hall. The team was already starting to practice well before I arrived, and I didn't mange to see him sitting among the tiny audience of one person- me. Maybe he's running late; going out for lunch and coming back takes quite a while. While pondering the possibilities, I watched the class drama with an unerring spirit. The story although quite deep, seemed almost permeable when the actors played it out for me, making the flow of the story easier to understand overall. There are some parts that need to be worked on yes, but the play does have it's merits. The first break had already begun when I began to scope around again, and I returned my gaze disinterestedly to the stage after finding not even the shadow of him anywhere. I think Aaron felt my desperation and was trying to reach me, but he was too into his drama team to have time. So I began to move out of the hall, out into the side of hall.

  The place I was going to go to was occupied by Pak Din, a faculty member, who was cleaning the side of the halls so I escape to the empty classrooms near the school field that have long been abandoned by the school. Unsurprisingly, the rooms are dusty and musty, and on top of that have chairs and tables lying about everywhere. I was sitting down on the chair, feeling the dustiness around me, when a rustling sound echoed into the room. The walls were quite badly damaged so sounds could be heard easily from the outside, and upon closer inspection I could see a pair of feet covered by the layers of dust on the floor. A familiar voice resonated through the room, and though it did not register immediately, I knew who it was instantly.

  "This is the end of this. I want to tell her about this, before things go out of hand, but I can't find the chance to tell her ." said the familiar voice. Another voice responded back to the person,

  "Are you sure about this? You know it will not end well right?"

  "I'm sure. In fact, I even know she's listening to us right now. Come on out, you've been discovered," The voice had changed but know I knew for sure that he was him. I walked out of the class and moved towards them. He had said what he needed to say and left promptly. I was happy, but something still stung in me. The day after, I knew why. We never spoke to each other again.