confession of the day:
I've been spending an awful time writing random things these days. since my internship's over and college hasn't started yet, I have particularly so much time to spare. and there's a writing I've been wanting to post here, but it is so freaking long...and I've just posted similar post here. I really need to reconsider having another blog to post these random writing of mine.
anyways, well, here it is.
Kanon (Her Perspective)
"Are you out of your mind?"
"he's a fucking playboy- fucking asshole for god sake- his, his bad reputation has always been hanging around the whole society, bullshit you didn't know about that- I mean, what the hell are you thinking? are you an idiot- oh god, shit, damn it!!" he growls and punches the nearest wall beside him.
"who are you to care?" she finally speaks, cutting the locked eye contact, "and for goodness sake, can. you. stop. screaming."
she falls quiet for a moment before shaking her head, pulling her arms to herself, pushing him hard away.
"get lost, you asshole."
it is already bright when she wakes up on her bed the next day.
there are many times when she really thinks she had already totally gotten over him, and Sunday is definitely not one of them.
except she doesn't know how.
her steps stop.
"what the-" she startles for few seconds. her heart skips a beat and confusion blankets her mind. anger is one thing for sure she acknowledges of all the confusing feelings that suddenly pop up. she hates surprises. let alone, unpleasant surprises.
"what the actual fuck are you doing here?" she hears herself half screaming but she doesn't care. she steps back, fumbles her cabinet behind her to find anything. this calls for her defensive instinct.
that someone turns out to be the man that has been haunting her sunday since she woke up. he looks confused for a moment at the revelation of her startling like that to see him. but after a few second, calmness is back covering his face. he makes a little smirk like he thinks he still knows her the best after all.
"hey," he greets her calmly, still sitting on her couch, tv remote on his lap. "how bad is the hangover for you to actually scream and swear so early in the day?"
"wh- what?"
"quick reminder. you passed out in front of the bar last night. I had to take you home since I always know how bad your relationship with alcohol is. and yeah I got worry and stuff so I stayed overnight to watch over you."
she looks at him in complete disbelief.
"wh- what? no, I- I didn't, no, shit, I can't remem- how could I, you-?" she just mutters to herself, recalling everything about yesterday. she hums for a moment before falling into complete silence at the thought of yesterday. yesterday, bar, party, yeah. she remembers going to one of their mutual friends' farewell party, and of course, on a bar downtown. she supposes she was going to meet him inevitably, and meeting him was not a pleasant choice, so instead of enjoying the party, she drank a lot of alcohol to ease the pain. she scoffs softly and stands up looking at his eyes. now she remembers.
"right," she says after she calms herself down. "and you got worry, you said? so you stayed over at my house? who the hell gives you permission to stay, Mr. Do Whatever You Want?" she snorts loudly. the bitterness in her tone is too obvious. "I appreciate your help, but really, how insensitive of you to just stay over like that. this is not your house anymore, this is my personal space. should I really call the police to release the restraining order for you now?"
"I need to talk to you" he snaps, "while you're sober."
"wow to think you're a professional marketeer. don't you acknowledge the manner to talk to someone? it's definitely not to just pop up at someone's living room after spending the night without permission. haven't you heard about the technology to communicate nowadays?"
"don't start with that nonsense. we both know very well you won't reply to any messages I send you, let alone picking up my calls, let alone meeting me properly."
she rolls her eyes, "and we both know my reasons."
"I had no choice. it's not like I spent the whole night anyway, when we arrived it's 4am already,"
she shoots back, "so that makes you right to just stay here without my permission?"
"no," he sighs deeply. "right, I'm sorry, I just-"
"don't bother." she cuts him. she hates his apology. always does.
he stands up and walks towards her. stops right in front of her before grabbing her wrist.
"listen," he locks his eyes at her, "I need. to talk. to you. I need-"
"no," she cuts him again, "it's too late. you're too late to start anything up."
"how so? what now? are you seeing someone?" his tone rises, "so you're really dating that jerk?"
"what? hell no," she strongly pull her arms back to her self at the mention of a man she flirted with last night at the bar, "we just met yesterday and we danced, that's all."
actually, she's a little surprised at her self for what she just said. why she should explain anything to him. the obligation to do so is definitely one thing she used to do all the time and of course she hasn't been able to get rid of it yet.
"bulls. you two could have got a room already if not for your weak alcohol handling. that asshole never stopped flirting to you since I arrived at bar, made me sick."
"what is it to you?" she glares, "cut it off. I'm not yours to protect anymore. I swear to god you need to leave me the hell alone. stay, stay out of my life."
he looks in pain at her words, but instead of leaving, he steps closer to her, leaning his arms against the cabinet. "no. don't say that- you have to listen to me. I was an idiot, I always was. but I never meant to hurt you, I had no freaking idea before how things were gonna end up. I, I just wanted you always be there. for me. and deliverance I made was clouded by my fucking ego, I thought it's okay to fool around a little bit as long as I was always there for you. I never thought you'd leave me for real, I never thought- I didn't know any shit about what it takes to make a relationship work out. but now I know. I changed. for fuck's sake I swear I don't find it in any women what I see in you. all the fooling around things were basically just lust and nothing ever more." desperation seeps into his voice, "believe me, there's nothing I want more than to be with you."
something tugs inside her heart, and anger lifts up as she heard what he just said. she interrupts him with a strong push on his chest. "wake up!!" her body trembles as she's trying her best not to cry. her emotion has taken full control of her judgment and action, but still, she doesn't want to seem weak in front of him, after all this time. after all this freaking time.
"don't you get it? huh? even if you still have feelings for me, hell, even if I still have feelings for you, circumstance that we have is where love alone won't save a damned thing, for goodness sake. nothing can save this fucked up relationship. you know why? because the damage you made is beyond repair. you gave up on me for other girls. you thought I wasn't good enough then you left me to look for someone who benefits you more. you never thought of me and my circumstances. I wasn't the one who left, I wasn't the one who let go of our relationship. heck I wasn't the one who cheats on us. but I was the one who always hurt badly. and to stand here at this damn point, I had to, I had been through a lot, so much more of me than you fucking know. and now, you just showed up out of nowhere telling me those same bullshits all over again? just because you now know what an ass you are doesn't mean I have it in me to forgive you and back to the square one, being all stupid and idiot over the fact that you're still an ass. god damn it, it's been 6 months already and you still can't bring yourself to one proper decent apology I deserve to get months ago."
she falls quiet as tears start falling down on her cheeks.
the man takes a few steps back and bows his head, beaten by the rush of words he just heard from her. a mutter, though, manages to escape his throat, string up words of apology. "I'm so-"
"don't. bother." her voice breaks. "you can spend the rest of your life apologizing, but in the end you'll see that I was never yours to keep."
there's sure a moment passed before he stands up and punches the cabinet so hard all of sudden. an empty blue glass vase that she keeps on the right side of the cabinet falls down and crushing the wooden floor eventually. the sound of the shattered glass breaks the agony that walls of the apartment have been tossing.
he leans against the cabinet, staring down at the floor. chest is heavy from hard breathing. she watches over him through slightly teary vision from back as he fixes his breath, can not figure what his unreadable expression means.
"please," half pleading, she stands still at her position, "leave."
the man doesn't need to be told twice as he rushingly walks towards the door and grabs his jacket. he stops half way and turns his back to her after pushing the door open.
"you're right. as always. I can't even bring my self to convince you otherwise. I'm sorry to bother you. just.. sleep the hangover away, it'll help." then he disappears before slamming the door close.
she collapses on the floor at the very sound of the slamming door. staring absentmindedly at the door for long, not being able to move an inch. these feelings are familiar though. like when you feel your breath is just taken away by some intangible things. the pain in her chest. the burning tears on her cheeks. even the scene that just happened, screaming and arguing each other, is also familiar. it's like she's been in the same scene over and over again. close to Deja Vu only this feels less surreal. the fact is, this might really have happened before, this similar intensive emotional draining fight with him, out of all million fights they've been through. so everything doesn't feel strange at all, she's already got used to the after effect pain this brings.
the numbness in her heart is new though.
she remembers every moment when he slammed the door hard before her these past 4 years. it crushed her everytime. she always ended up sobbing all night and skipping everything in her life that's supposed to happen. she was always like a lost kid then, their ruthless fights consume all of her life.
now.. it's unlikely. she doesn't feel the drive of desperation trying to make her chase him and ask him to stay. she doesn't feel the urge to fix whatever's broken and blinds her self to everything he had done to her. she can feel her chest is in pain, and burning tears rolling down through her cheeks. but overall, she can feel the numbness takes over her mind and heart to the little corner of acceptance.
she spends another 15 minutes sitting on the floor before a Pachelbel's Canon ringing vibrantly filling the silence at the apartment. she stands up and walks forward to her bedroom to get her phone. her phone is blinking as it vibrates beside her pillow. she picks it up and looks at the caller's id. she smiled and hesitantly touches the answer option.
"hey," she pauses, "remember the question about how would you look at the person you loved for a long time and tell your self it's time to walk away I asked to you once?" pauses again.
"the answer is you just do,"
"after repeating and imitatating with a time delay," her lips turn into a vague curve,
"like a kanon."
disclaimer: this is purely a random mumbling rambling writing which is all the characters and dialogues happening are all fictive with nothing related to real life of the author.
though, all the similar cases mentioned might or might not be coincidental.
I've been spending an awful time writing random things these days. since my internship's over and college hasn't started yet, I have particularly so much time to spare. and there's a writing I've been wanting to post here, but it is so freaking long...and I've just posted similar post here. I really need to reconsider having another blog to post these random writing of mine.
anyways, well, here it is.
Kanon (Her Perspective)
//a theme that is repeated and imitated
//with a time delay,
//creating a layered effect
the world is spinning around as she gets out of the whirling loud bar either to find fresh air for breath or just throw up to comfort her upset stomach. either way, she can't breath and as she closes the door that connecting the bar and the hallway, she finally falls down on her knees, shutting her eyes to get rid those flickering green light that has been ruining her sight since the headache showed up. her weak knees supports her body with the help of her arms, she's staring at the floor as she fixes her breath. the hallway is empty now, everyone else is already inside the bar. she is still trying hard to get a hold of herself when suddenly the door is open and someone steps in.
"Are you out of your mind?"
this voice. half scoffing half smirking, she alarms her self. she looks up and finds exactly the face she expected. him. their eyes meet. his face is unreadable but his hard breath indicates that frustration clouds him. he closes the door impatiently before he starts screaming.
"he's a fucking playboy- fucking asshole for god sake- his, his bad reputation has always been hanging around the whole society, bullshit you didn't know about that- I mean, what the hell are you thinking? are you an idiot- oh god, shit, damn it!!" he growls and punches the nearest wall beside him.
the muffled sound of party house music inside the bar slips in and gives them trill for every pounding bass. the man punches the wall for several more times, which makes a loud sound that she can see that he really put his anger in every punch. until when he eventually stops, catching his breaths, then turns back to meet her eyes. his eyes say so much he can't utter, and she, as always, knows.
"who are you to care?" she finally speaks, cutting the locked eye contact, "and for goodness sake, can. you. stop. screaming."
she sits up on the floor, puts her head against the wall and closes her eyes. too dizzy to argue with him. her voice is coming hoarse, apparently from all the drinking and loud singing in the bar. she can feel the alcohol swims through her veins clouding her judgment. ugh. the tequila didn't help at all.
she doesn't realize that he's in front of her already kneeling down until he holds her wrist and gives intent squeeze, "what are you trying to prove, really, stop- stop acting stupid," his voice is softer.
she falls quiet for a moment before shaking her head, pulling her arms to herself, pushing him hard away.
"get lost, you asshole."
she walks away towards the exit door immediately leaving him in frustrated face. all she knows is that she can't handle him -now-. she has to run from him, find taxi, and go home. she needs to leave. but what she doesn't calculate is her sloshed state. she can't even walk properly not to mention running away. her headache is killing her and those flickering green lights has gotten brighter. as she pushes the door open, feeling the fresh air touches her face is the last thing she remembers before everything goes total black.
--
a sharp pain strikes her head as she crawls on bed half begging she doesn't have to go through hangover. well, she already can smell alcohol all over her clothes and whatever she did last night must be not pretty at all. a good 5 minutes wasted uselessly as she tries to recall last night, until she decides get up, reluctantly leans forward to the table beside her bed, trying to find some water, pain killer, or just anything to kill this headache off. one might wonder, there's an aspirin and a glass of water exactly on her bedside table, which is quickly gone as she drinks it. the water running through her burned throat feels like heaven and hell at the same time. painful yet relieving. like certain someone she knows.
she's laying down on her bed as she badly wants to go back to sleep. she can't apparently. the sun shines through her window and it is too bright for her to take in at this state. she's trying to keep her eyes shut, but her mind refuses to stop working. she gives up fighting her eyes lids as she fumbles around her bed searching for her phone wondering what time is possibly now. her phone shows 12.05 pm. and it's sunday. she just woke up alone on sunday morning (well, afternoon). and if there's anything she hates more than lame internet connection, it is being alone on Sunday. both leaves her nothing to do. both makes her remember him. especially sunday.
there are many times when she really thinks she had already totally gotten over him, and Sunday is definitely not one of them.
sighing, she presses her eyes shut. a mental image of his face shows up. she automatically imagines his voice. his eyes. his smile. his warmth on her embrace. it is painful how she still remembers everything accurately in details. it's not like she doesn't try to forget. she tried. 24/7 from monday to saturday. she keeps making her life as busy as possible. but sunday? sunday is her weakness. she lets the memories get the best of her because she has no other distraction, and there's no use in pushing them anyway, they are never gone. like ghosts, haunting her days and nights. or so she excuses her self.
she knows it very well that it is no use to cling on to the memories. she knows it best. for the longest time she's been torturing her self dealing with endless possibilities of what-ifs that were never ever happened. she blinded her self, living in denial, letting her self sink deeper into the pit of oblivion. she knows the best how useless it is to hang your decision on to empty promises, the bright memories of the past, the empty hopes of better future, when the present keeps telling you otherwise. she knows it too well to acknowledge this stupid feeling of longing and yearning will only make her end up feeling more miserable. she's been missing him and it's only natural. she knows it all. he's gone already and she should just completely get over it and move on.
except she doesn't know how.
her phone buzzes out of nowhere beside her pillow. Pachelbel's canon ringing softly filling the loneliness in the room. she startles for a millisecond, before finally deciding to ignore it anyway. whoever contacts her on sunday is clearly not office, not office means no immediate response needed. the ringing phone brings her back to reality, and now that she's fully awake there is no chance of going back to sleep. she rolls her body to the side of her bed. her sight wanders around her own room. the lamp is still turned off but abundant light manages to escape through her curtain which makes her room bright enough to hurt her eyes. anyway, the aspirin seemingly works though as her headache has lessened a lot. she shakes her head softly and encourages her self to sit up before dragging her self to the shower.
--
she's leaning against the wall behind her as the water starts pouring down on her. the water's cold and makes her shiver but she doesn't bother to turn the water heater on. she just lets the cold feeling blankets her under the shower. anywhere around the world feels cold to her anyway, it doesn't make any difference. she feels that way even in a crowded places. it doesn't really matter whether she's alone or not. she still convinces her self from time to time that it's just a phase she's going through. her friends have been told her such things. fooling her self that everything's going to be better eventually, while she doesn't really care whether things get better or not for all she wants is to get over him.
actually, every single thing here reminds her of him anyway. he used to live here. every inch of this apartment reminds her of him. how she already lost him. how he gave up on her. how he chose another woman. how he shattered everything they had built brick by brick all those years. it was a really messy break-up for her. well however, it's not like what they had then was flawless though. their relationship had been unhealthy since ever. they fought all the time, screamed at each other at one moment, kissing one another the very next moment. they had let go of each other multiple times, but it was never permanent. they pushed and eventually pulled. split up only to lit the light back sooner or later. the reasons are various, it's either they're not patient enough to cope up any longer, or he's being a total ass. well, in her defense, he's always been an ass, a cheating bastard. she just managed to look past it all these years, thanks to the wall of oblivion she's built.
even until their last breakup, which is like 6 months ago, they still kept trying to fix the irreparable, over and over again. she already knew somewhere inside that it is impossible. but the wall was too thick to destroy. she sticked to him anyway, yet another making a fool of her self. until one midsummer night, she accidentally found his phone buzzing when he was in the shower. she stole a glance at it and a woman's name appeared. one of the many women she knew that had always been with him, she never failed to remember them one by one. she froze. she knew it would happen sooner or later when he told her about 'working overtime' last week. it also explained the strong scent she smelled when she dropped his laundry these days. her heart sinked. she didn't really feel surprised but the crush of yet another betrayal enveloped all her feelings into a complete numbness. she didn't say anything and just packed his things up in a baggage before leaving the apartment for a while to calm her feelings. when the man stepped out of the shower, he only found a baggage and his phone on top of that. he knew what it meant. that night he left the apartment and never come back.
it's been months, she thinks as she takes another deep breath before stepping out of the shower. she puts the towel around her and leans herself against the sink. she looks at the girl who stares back at her in the mirror. ugly. the mix of hangover and sleep deprived on top of chronic depression. she immediately feels sick again as she manages to wash her face and brush her teeth in a rush thanks to the shivering cold (and severe headache). she puts decent clothes –loose tee and shorts– and walks outside the bedroom. her stomach doesn't stop growling she's in urgent need to find something to eat before the aspirin effect fades away. as she's walking across the living room, she realizes someone's sitting in her couch staring at her.
her steps stop.
"what the-" she startles for few seconds. her heart skips a beat and confusion blankets her mind. anger is one thing for sure she acknowledges of all the confusing feelings that suddenly pop up. she hates surprises. let alone, unpleasant surprises.
"what the actual fuck are you doing here?" she hears herself half screaming but she doesn't care. she steps back, fumbles her cabinet behind her to find anything. this calls for her defensive instinct.
that someone turns out to be the man that has been haunting her sunday since she woke up. he looks confused for a moment at the revelation of her startling like that to see him. but after a few second, calmness is back covering his face. he makes a little smirk like he thinks he still knows her the best after all.
"hey," he greets her calmly, still sitting on her couch, tv remote on his lap. "how bad is the hangover for you to actually scream and swear so early in the day?"
"wh- what?"
"quick reminder. you passed out in front of the bar last night. I had to take you home since I always know how bad your relationship with alcohol is. and yeah I got worry and stuff so I stayed overnight to watch over you."
she looks at him in complete disbelief.
"wh- what? no, I- I didn't, no, shit, I can't remem- how could I, you-?" she just mutters to herself, recalling everything about yesterday. she hums for a moment before falling into complete silence at the thought of yesterday. yesterday, bar, party, yeah. she remembers going to one of their mutual friends' farewell party, and of course, on a bar downtown. she supposes she was going to meet him inevitably, and meeting him was not a pleasant choice, so instead of enjoying the party, she drank a lot of alcohol to ease the pain. she scoffs softly and stands up looking at his eyes. now she remembers.
"right," she says after she calms herself down. "and you got worry, you said? so you stayed over at my house? who the hell gives you permission to stay, Mr. Do Whatever You Want?" she snorts loudly. the bitterness in her tone is too obvious. "I appreciate your help, but really, how insensitive of you to just stay over like that. this is not your house anymore, this is my personal space. should I really call the police to release the restraining order for you now?"
"I need to talk to you" he snaps, "while you're sober."
"wow to think you're a professional marketeer. don't you acknowledge the manner to talk to someone? it's definitely not to just pop up at someone's living room after spending the night without permission. haven't you heard about the technology to communicate nowadays?"
"don't start with that nonsense. we both know very well you won't reply to any messages I send you, let alone picking up my calls, let alone meeting me properly."
she rolls her eyes, "and we both know my reasons."
"I had no choice. it's not like I spent the whole night anyway, when we arrived it's 4am already,"
she shoots back, "so that makes you right to just stay here without my permission?"
"no," he sighs deeply. "right, I'm sorry, I just-"
"don't bother." she cuts him. she hates his apology. always does.
he stands up and walks towards her. stops right in front of her before grabbing her wrist.
"listen," he locks his eyes at her, "I need. to talk. to you. I need-"
"no," she cuts him again, "it's too late. you're too late to start anything up."
"how so? what now? are you seeing someone?" his tone rises, "so you're really dating that jerk?"
"what? hell no," she strongly pull her arms back to her self at the mention of a man she flirted with last night at the bar, "we just met yesterday and we danced, that's all."
actually, she's a little surprised at her self for what she just said. why she should explain anything to him. the obligation to do so is definitely one thing she used to do all the time and of course she hasn't been able to get rid of it yet.
"bulls. you two could have got a room already if not for your weak alcohol handling. that asshole never stopped flirting to you since I arrived at bar, made me sick."
"what is it to you?" she glares, "cut it off. I'm not yours to protect anymore. I swear to god you need to leave me the hell alone. stay, stay out of my life."
he looks in pain at her words, but instead of leaving, he steps closer to her, leaning his arms against the cabinet. "no. don't say that- you have to listen to me. I was an idiot, I always was. but I never meant to hurt you, I had no freaking idea before how things were gonna end up. I, I just wanted you always be there. for me. and deliverance I made was clouded by my fucking ego, I thought it's okay to fool around a little bit as long as I was always there for you. I never thought you'd leave me for real, I never thought- I didn't know any shit about what it takes to make a relationship work out. but now I know. I changed. for fuck's sake I swear I don't find it in any women what I see in you. all the fooling around things were basically just lust and nothing ever more." desperation seeps into his voice, "believe me, there's nothing I want more than to be with you."
something tugs inside her heart, and anger lifts up as she heard what he just said. she interrupts him with a strong push on his chest. "wake up!!" her body trembles as she's trying her best not to cry. her emotion has taken full control of her judgment and action, but still, she doesn't want to seem weak in front of him, after all this time. after all this freaking time.
"don't you get it? huh? even if you still have feelings for me, hell, even if I still have feelings for you, circumstance that we have is where love alone won't save a damned thing, for goodness sake. nothing can save this fucked up relationship. you know why? because the damage you made is beyond repair. you gave up on me for other girls. you thought I wasn't good enough then you left me to look for someone who benefits you more. you never thought of me and my circumstances. I wasn't the one who left, I wasn't the one who let go of our relationship. heck I wasn't the one who cheats on us. but I was the one who always hurt badly. and to stand here at this damn point, I had to, I had been through a lot, so much more of me than you fucking know. and now, you just showed up out of nowhere telling me those same bullshits all over again? just because you now know what an ass you are doesn't mean I have it in me to forgive you and back to the square one, being all stupid and idiot over the fact that you're still an ass. god damn it, it's been 6 months already and you still can't bring yourself to one proper decent apology I deserve to get months ago."
she falls quiet as tears start falling down on her cheeks.
the man takes a few steps back and bows his head, beaten by the rush of words he just heard from her. a mutter, though, manages to escape his throat, string up words of apology. "I'm so-"
"don't. bother." her voice breaks. "you can spend the rest of your life apologizing, but in the end you'll see that I was never yours to keep."
there's sure a moment passed before he stands up and punches the cabinet so hard all of sudden. an empty blue glass vase that she keeps on the right side of the cabinet falls down and crushing the wooden floor eventually. the sound of the shattered glass breaks the agony that walls of the apartment have been tossing.
he leans against the cabinet, staring down at the floor. chest is heavy from hard breathing. she watches over him through slightly teary vision from back as he fixes his breath, can not figure what his unreadable expression means.
"please," half pleading, she stands still at her position, "leave."
the man doesn't need to be told twice as he rushingly walks towards the door and grabs his jacket. he stops half way and turns his back to her after pushing the door open.
"you're right. as always. I can't even bring my self to convince you otherwise. I'm sorry to bother you. just.. sleep the hangover away, it'll help." then he disappears before slamming the door close.
--
she collapses on the floor at the very sound of the slamming door. staring absentmindedly at the door for long, not being able to move an inch. these feelings are familiar though. like when you feel your breath is just taken away by some intangible things. the pain in her chest. the burning tears on her cheeks. even the scene that just happened, screaming and arguing each other, is also familiar. it's like she's been in the same scene over and over again. close to Deja Vu only this feels less surreal. the fact is, this might really have happened before, this similar intensive emotional draining fight with him, out of all million fights they've been through. so everything doesn't feel strange at all, she's already got used to the after effect pain this brings.
the numbness in her heart is new though.
she remembers every moment when he slammed the door hard before her these past 4 years. it crushed her everytime. she always ended up sobbing all night and skipping everything in her life that's supposed to happen. she was always like a lost kid then, their ruthless fights consume all of her life.
now.. it's unlikely. she doesn't feel the drive of desperation trying to make her chase him and ask him to stay. she doesn't feel the urge to fix whatever's broken and blinds her self to everything he had done to her. she can feel her chest is in pain, and burning tears rolling down through her cheeks. but overall, she can feel the numbness takes over her mind and heart to the little corner of acceptance.
she spends another 15 minutes sitting on the floor before a Pachelbel's Canon ringing vibrantly filling the silence at the apartment. she stands up and walks forward to her bedroom to get her phone. her phone is blinking as it vibrates beside her pillow. she picks it up and looks at the caller's id. she smiled and hesitantly touches the answer option.
"hey," she pauses, "remember the question about how would you look at the person you loved for a long time and tell your self it's time to walk away I asked to you once?" pauses again.
"the answer is you just do,"
"after repeating and imitatating with a time delay," her lips turn into a vague curve,
"like a kanon."
--
though, all the similar cases mentioned might or might not be coincidental.
