i was alone staring over the ledge.
Hope in reality is the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man.
- Friedrich Nietzsche.
- Friedrich Nietzsche.
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She sat by the window, unsure of how to say a prayer. With a cringe of confusion, she shook off the thought of her attempt in having faith. All she knew was that if one door closes, many doors open, somehow. It was something along that line.
It's bath time.
There was not much anticipation in taking a bath, but there was anticipation in hearing his voice call out to her. He was like a guardian angel, reminding her about daily necessities and keeping her in routine. While she would usually prefer to voices of boy bands, they weren't the same, for their voices didn't make her feel safe like his did. Somehow, each time she heard his voice, it was a reminder that he was still around, and it kept her sane.
Strolling to the bathroom, taking her own sweet time as usual, she had a mixed feeling. The wound on her leg was still fresh, leaving her reluctant to take a bath; yet it was comforting knowing that he had specially prepared a bath to cater to her wound, and to make sure the wound would not be aggravated.
Stripping down to nothing, she stepped into the bath tub. The water level was just nice, it did not overflow, and it was comfortable enough for her to lie back and relax for a bit. Although the initial part of stepping into the tub gave another moment of confusion, unsure whether the stinging pain of the open wound was most prominent or if the icy cold water was hurting more.
Shuddering in the cold, she wished the water had been warmer, while clearly knowing that the wound would have hurt more. Another thought passed through her head - would the warm water have made her wound just hurt as a smaller section in comparison to the entire body?
She was about to turn the tap on, and run in some hot water. He stopped her. He held her wrist gently, snapping her away from her thoughts for a bit. She had almost forgotten about his existence - so silent, so patiently waiting for her to finish and so that he could dry her up.
It would hurt but bear with it.
His comforting and reassuring voice stopped her. She knew that with him next to her, she could overcome more than she could on her own. Well, he was like a guardian angel after all.
It's bath time.
There was not much anticipation in taking a bath, but there was anticipation in hearing his voice call out to her. He was like a guardian angel, reminding her about daily necessities and keeping her in routine. While she would usually prefer to voices of boy bands, they weren't the same, for their voices didn't make her feel safe like his did. Somehow, each time she heard his voice, it was a reminder that he was still around, and it kept her sane.
Strolling to the bathroom, taking her own sweet time as usual, she had a mixed feeling. The wound on her leg was still fresh, leaving her reluctant to take a bath; yet it was comforting knowing that he had specially prepared a bath to cater to her wound, and to make sure the wound would not be aggravated.
Stripping down to nothing, she stepped into the bath tub. The water level was just nice, it did not overflow, and it was comfortable enough for her to lie back and relax for a bit. Although the initial part of stepping into the tub gave another moment of confusion, unsure whether the stinging pain of the open wound was most prominent or if the icy cold water was hurting more.
Shuddering in the cold, she wished the water had been warmer, while clearly knowing that the wound would have hurt more. Another thought passed through her head - would the warm water have made her wound just hurt as a smaller section in comparison to the entire body?
She was about to turn the tap on, and run in some hot water. He stopped her. He held her wrist gently, snapping her away from her thoughts for a bit. She had almost forgotten about his existence - so silent, so patiently waiting for her to finish and so that he could dry her up.
It would hurt but bear with it.
His comforting and reassuring voice stopped her. She knew that with him next to her, she could overcome more than she could on her own. Well, he was like a guardian angel after all.
Shivering in the unbearable cold water, the wound felt better, but her body was freezing. She was almost tempted to beg him to let her run the hot water anyway. Her wound has been hurting for so long any way, a little more hurt wouldn't kill. He softly spoke, telling her that if his dog could survive the cold water, so could she, for she was much stronger.
The words were simple and encouraging, yet she couldn't understand them.
Perhaps she was merely enjoying the pain any way. Perhaps she was merely enjoying all the questioning. Perhaps she was merely addicted to hurting herself. Perhaps she was merely misinterpreting his kind words. Perhaps she was merely just stubborn. Perhaps she was merely not good enough.
English words. Simple, understandable, and at the same time, motivating. How could anyone have misinterpreted?
She stopped at the thought of labeling herself as unintelligent and worthless. In fact, she wanted to give herself another chance to prove herself wrong, to do something right for once. She wanted to give herself a benefit of her own doubt. She wanted to try. She did try.
Enduring the remaining of the bath as all the thoughts flowed through her head endlessly, she imagined them as the bubbles in the tub, slowly disappearing as she washed herself cleaner by each passing moment.
Stepping out onto the floor rug which he so carefully placed in front of the tub for her, she smiled. He left for a brief second, without her knowledge while she was deep in thought, and returned with a huge bath towel in his hands, ready to dry her up, and dry her wound.
Embracing her and wrapping her entirely in the towel to keep her warm, she not only felt warm physically, but deep down in her heart as well. This guardian angel of hers never left, he stayed. The embrace was priceless. She did not know how to express herself - the million smiles emerging from her heart and the laughter of joy erupting from the warmth she was feeling.
She did not smile. She could not. Maybe she was used to it - not smiling. However, deep down, she wanted to give him back a hug which could express all her feelings, but she was too tiny to make an impactful hug. As her hands reached out to give him a hug, he instantly knew that she was happy, although doubtful of her straight face.
Here, here.
The hug lasted slightly longer than it was intended to, but the intended effect was there. They were both feeling the same warmth inside, and they were both happy.
He sat her down, helped dress her, before attending to her wound. She was worried the wound would never heal, but he reassured her that everything would be alright. He talked about his wounds and continued to encourage her.
Perhaps it was merely her stupidity which made her misinterpret his simple kind words yet again. She always felt frustrated when she could not understand. She could never get angry at him, for he was like a guardian angel she was eternally grateful and would love to have him around perpetually.
Perhaps the wound would heal soon, with him around holding her hand. Perhaps the wound would never heal, even with him around. Perhaps she would always still feel the pain of the wound every single time she stepped into a bath considerately prepared by him and feel upset. Perhaps she would be able to express more appreciation someday. Perhaps she could get over all the thoughts in her head, let them flow by and disappear like the soap bubbles in the tub. Perhaps she would always be in dilemma, confused about what she felt and how she should be feeling.
Perhaps she could never understand every single word he says to her, whether encouraging or discouraging.
The words were simple and encouraging, yet she couldn't understand them.
Perhaps she was merely enjoying the pain any way. Perhaps she was merely enjoying all the questioning. Perhaps she was merely addicted to hurting herself. Perhaps she was merely misinterpreting his kind words. Perhaps she was merely just stubborn. Perhaps she was merely not good enough.
English words. Simple, understandable, and at the same time, motivating. How could anyone have misinterpreted?
She stopped at the thought of labeling herself as unintelligent and worthless. In fact, she wanted to give herself another chance to prove herself wrong, to do something right for once. She wanted to give herself a benefit of her own doubt. She wanted to try. She did try.
Enduring the remaining of the bath as all the thoughts flowed through her head endlessly, she imagined them as the bubbles in the tub, slowly disappearing as she washed herself cleaner by each passing moment.
Stepping out onto the floor rug which he so carefully placed in front of the tub for her, she smiled. He left for a brief second, without her knowledge while she was deep in thought, and returned with a huge bath towel in his hands, ready to dry her up, and dry her wound.
Embracing her and wrapping her entirely in the towel to keep her warm, she not only felt warm physically, but deep down in her heart as well. This guardian angel of hers never left, he stayed. The embrace was priceless. She did not know how to express herself - the million smiles emerging from her heart and the laughter of joy erupting from the warmth she was feeling.
She did not smile. She could not. Maybe she was used to it - not smiling. However, deep down, she wanted to give him back a hug which could express all her feelings, but she was too tiny to make an impactful hug. As her hands reached out to give him a hug, he instantly knew that she was happy, although doubtful of her straight face.
Here, here.
The hug lasted slightly longer than it was intended to, but the intended effect was there. They were both feeling the same warmth inside, and they were both happy.
He sat her down, helped dress her, before attending to her wound. She was worried the wound would never heal, but he reassured her that everything would be alright. He talked about his wounds and continued to encourage her.
Perhaps it was merely her stupidity which made her misinterpret his simple kind words yet again. She always felt frustrated when she could not understand. She could never get angry at him, for he was like a guardian angel she was eternally grateful and would love to have him around perpetually.
Perhaps the wound would heal soon, with him around holding her hand. Perhaps the wound would never heal, even with him around. Perhaps she would always still feel the pain of the wound every single time she stepped into a bath considerately prepared by him and feel upset. Perhaps she would be able to express more appreciation someday. Perhaps she could get over all the thoughts in her head, let them flow by and disappear like the soap bubbles in the tub. Perhaps she would always be in dilemma, confused about what she felt and how she should be feeling.
Perhaps she could never understand every single word he says to her, whether encouraging or discouraging.
Perhaps she would always misinterpret some of the things he says to her, regardless of positive or negative.
Perhaps she had those tendencies, of always being doubtful and annoyingly deep in thought.
Perhaps she had those tendencies, of always being doubtful and annoyingly deep in thought.
Perhaps.
One thing she never misunderstand or misinterpret was his love for her.
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M.
trying my best not to forget.
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