Catharsis

He was just a boy I got acquainted with through a friend. He was tall, dark and handsome. Sorry for the cliche but he really was. However, these were not the traits that got me interested in his whole persona. Through all my conversations with him what I found most endearing was his sincerity. You could see it through his eyes not through his words. His actions would make you doubt but when you look into his eyes, you will believe. I believed.

Not only did I believe, but I also dreamt. I hoped. Well, he did not promise anything, or maybe he did. I don't know now, I don't remember anymore. In a way, I choose not to remember for whatever promises laid before are trivial now. They are like withered flower petals on a bedside table.

I don't harbor any ill feelings toward him and I never had. Even though I've been coerced by my friends to do otherwise. All these are part of the past that's why I can write about it to archive in the recesses of all yesterdays. As this is not an invitation to dance to an old forgotten melody but to give in to catharsis.

The entire phase with the boy is brief, almost negligible, in a timeline perspective. However the brevity of it all and of this post is of no way telling the impression it all left on me.

I know he is happy right now with his love. I can't say the same with myself but nonetheless that won't hinder me to be happy for someone in the past. As I now learn to wish this to everyone, I continue to wish him this. Light. Love. Happiness.

Introspection in 30 seconds

I am vanilla.
I am gray. I am black or white.
I am that black jacket. Faded.
I am that jeans worn out.
I am jaded.

I am vanilla. A base. I go well with everything and nothing in particular. I go well with fruits or nuts or some chocolate syrup on top.

I am gray. In between. I am black. I am white. I am a mix of the extremes. I stay in between.

I am that black jacket with hood faded by the constant use. I am used. For comfort, for companionship, I am used. For warmth and protection, I am used. I am hugged in the solace. Faded in solace.

I am that jeans. Worn out. Worn in a busy day or a casual date. Out in a routine. A worn out pair. Worn and out.

Jaded. I am.