school and all blues
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
This night, I won't forget. The towel was thrown in, and all the nasty exchange of adjectives and nouns were in a tornado spinning on four sides of the boxing ring. No one won. He walked away broken, angry, and his fatigue mixed up with heartache. His forehead was bleeding, and his purple knuckles weakly aided him to jump off the ring, never to compete in a match again.I slumped against the ropes, lips cut and blood slowly flowing down to my neck. I was in this huge concussion, like the fragile scalp of my head fiercely ramped into a long, metal clothes hanger jutting out of nowhere. I visually go through this episode of pain when I feel that little bump on my skull while running through my thin hair. I had been wholly responsible for holding this match, and I also knew the outcome. Staged, predictable, but good for both of the opponents.
No counts of 1, 2 or 3. But a mutual decision to put this match behind us and walk on. Even if attempts to feign happiness prove to be futile, there is no other way and life has dealt its cards. When the huge bell sounds, it is my cue to get out of the grey cloud zone and walk into sunshine. Not without a black winter coat though.They share similar characteristics. One of which is to hurt people badly like nobody's business, feel guilty when they found their next half, regret their doings and then attempt to make up for the hurt in a lousy fashion. But you know what, this stings even more because you are raking up the angry past I have so forcefully buried deep under. Why did you even do what you did in the first place? Why?Maybe one day I will be able to smile at you, and enjoy the aromatic smells of your favourite mocha. Maybe one day, when we have both truly appreciated the meaning of love and life.
