A Walk at Nights

I walked at night. It was all cold where at temperatures and times like this, people would normally choose to just curl their bodies up inside a warm blanket in their beds. I was too afraid I would be drowning again in the memories of me and him together and then being forced to face the bitter reality that now he’s doing these all to his new girl…. My heart still ached. My sister once told me, “Please get back to your sense already, you may just cry and shout and all but stop getting in touch with him. He has a girlfriend now.” So I told her, “I can’t be crying anymore, my tears are dried. It’s all the pain inside that I’m feeling, that can’t be seen.” But it was me being too confident again, several days later, which is yesterday, I got up in my bed feeling so empty and aching that I, again, pathetically drowned in tears, still. And it will get worse the more the day gets darker. That is why I decided to just get out of my room and have a walk at nights.

It was quiet and cold at one dark night. I put on a warm jacket; his jacket that I still keep. I didn’t quite notice it that I wasn’t wearing proper shoes; only slippers. It’s after around an hour of walking and coming back to the room when I started to feel both my feet thumbs hurting. When I checked on my feet, it turned out that the skin was peeled and red. Ah, I wasn’t wearing socks and the slippers seemed to have quite a sharp edge around my thumbs it hurt them. Well, a Chinese made slippers provided for free, so might explain, hahaha. It might be the cold weather that made me unaware of the hurt though, or my empty mind? Good that I had decided to go back to my room, somehow I relieved that they didn’t bleed.

I put on each a bandage a.k.a hansaplast to both my feet thumbs, hoping that they won’t hurt when I take shower. But it didn’t help enough.I cringed when the hot water was touching them. I’m kinda sensitive to wound, you know. My mom said I’m a crybaby who can’t bear such a little scar; that explains why I can’t ride a bike nor swim up to this age. My doctor when I was being hospitalized said it in a more nice way, not a crybaby, but “a girl who’s sensitive to hurts”, haha. Anyway, when I was cringing out the hurt of my thumbs, there was a slight curiosity on how I managed to cut my arms back then. It was not only one scratch but nine! Something must have taken my insanity away….

And even though it had been a month that night since my nightmares first began, I was still struggling to get him out of my head. I am still, to be honest. A month can’t heal me yet. Well, that night before shower, I was getting everything ready to iron my clothes. As soon as I started ironing, you know what came across my mind? “Ah, this is just like those old days, when I helped him iron his clothes back then. I used to iron his clothes and my big sister’s. Three of us were always together.” What a memory. There were even times when I couldn’t bear smelling a certain perfume since it would remind me to his smell. I’m not saying his perfume, but the perfume comes from that laundry stuffs. He had this perfume preference when buying this laundry stuff. Even now when 4 years had passed, I’m confident I could still recognize the smell. You know, I’m good at remembering rubbish. crying in the corner hahaha

Even last Saturday when they took me to play outside, my head was filled of him. It spent 4 hours to go and come back, and it was raining since the very morning when we departed and even raining harder when we returned back. A gloomy heart and rain, plus two hours in each sitting, I was shutting my eyes down trying to sleep but all I could find was a little drip flowing out from a corner of my eye. Oh, and don’t forget that “Almost is Never Enough” by Ariana Grande. Hey, what could’ve added up to a more melancholic atmosphere?

I swear, even when I was thinking about something, there would still come anything that reminded me of him. Let alone when there’s nothing in my head. If you’d like me to write down each and every memories we’d spent, I could publish a novel already! Happy, sad, touching, all emotions are in a book. A true story but it’s gonna be a tragic ending, so I’m not gonna publish it anyways even if some publisher asked me to (see how my mind really works overboard hahaha).

Well seeing me myself still being in this state sometimes I do think I really need a help at this point. Now I’m counting down to the day I’m returning back to the country. My mom, knowing me being fragile and miserable like this, has asked me to consider joining her on her Umrah journey. I may need something more than just a determination to healing my damaged soul but I don’t know. Going umrah might sound a perfect idea at this timing, but it won’t be that simple to decide to go or not go.

Being alone in a quiet room like this, with a fragile heart that has once broken into pieces, which such heart attached in a lost soul, what else can I do at nights other than having a walk alone? Years ago, he would go downstairs to walk with me in the cold nights, even if it’s only to the nearby convenience store. He would in an instant be there in front of me, happily, voluntarily. Just to walk with me. Our feet were wearing only slippers. But now, all I could do is… walking all by myself, at these cold nights…. Ah, it’s aching again so heavily.

SH