Credits/Disclaimers: One quote from Andrea Gibson's Bone Burying. Only the idea is mine, everything else belongs to their respective creators. Written for RivaMikaWeek Cycle 4 - Topic: KA (December 25, 2014 – January 1, 2015).
In January, I am sullen.
I live alone – the last of my relatives having passed long ago. I have resigned myself to a solitary existence, yet my kind and elderly neighbours continue to treat me with thinly veiled pity as they put forth the various suggestions they have to help me with my life, my living and my future.
I don't want any of that. I am not brave enough to end it all, but I can live on in obscurity, I think.
Humans are sorrowful because they are kind.
In February, I am stirred.
I switch jobs to get away from what is familiar, to start at some place where no one knows me and I know no one. It is the one way to keep my obscurity. I am not paying attention to life anyway. My boss seems to hate me. Well. I will probably not be here in another year, a little hate won't hurt.
Humans have a way of missing the most important things in life by blinking at exactly the wrong moment.
In March, I am bewildered.
I have allowed the office of "you" to my boss. After a long time, I have allowed the presence of another to pervade my dormant emotions. You do have a way of disturbing my calm living and causing ripples that send my moments helter-skelter.
Now You and I both exist in my World. I feel unsettled as I grasp at this new concept.
Humans are afraid of change even though change is the only constant in life.
In April, I am excited.
I have come to terms with the fact that you are here to stay. I think I am happy about that but at the same time I feel like I am betraying my resolve. Is it fathomable for me to search for hope? Vibrant one moment and a strange mixture of colours the next, I feel like I am fleeting through these days with you. While you, strangely enough, keep circling around me in a dance – a dance of conviction.
Humans can be moody, like a soft summer's evening.
In May, I am nervous.
I am not quite sure what it is that comes over me nowadays, whenever you try to talk to me, even if it is only the work that demands said interaction. Your dance of conviction baffles me and somehow, I am finding that I enjoy being the centre of your attentions. I hope I am not making this up, for I think I see something akin to happiness on the horizon.
Humans know how to create happiness and revel in it.
In June, I am shy.
I don't understand why, but being near you has turned into a rollercoaster of an emotional ride. One minute I am trying to catch your eye and then trying to avoid it the next. And I am scared. I am scared of this feeling, because I think I know what it is.
Humans are hopeful, even in situations where triumph is absolutely impossible.
In July, I am hopeful.
I have started feeling again and belatedly realised that bold steps cannot hurt me. So, now I know that I am in love with you. Question is, are you? Are you in love with me too? Do you look at me with more than just passing emotion?
Humans hold onto hope. Hope goes last.
In August, I am happy.
It has been a long time since I have tasted the unstable waters of emotion, but heavens above! They feel good. They satiate me in a manner in which I have never been satisfied as you ask me to stay back after hours to talk. One simple date is enough to rouse me out of my self-imposed prison. I thank you for this. I thank you for a lot more.
Humans are simple to please. All they want is a little love.
In September, I am trembling.
This is new. I am new. Life is shedding it's old ragged attire to show me that it was always donned with glory – I had just refused to let go of my morose covering. And all this reemergence and new beginnings are rocking me off the boat. I am trembling and I am falling. But you catch me every time and you hold me till I melt into you. I believe, I would fall forever if it meant being in your arms like this.
Humans relish the thrill of a good adventure. Love is the greatest adventure.
In October, I am satisfied.
My trembling feet have landed me onto the soft grounds of a relationship where I am happy. You complete me and relate all manners of dedication and devotion to me. I love you.
Before I die, I want to be somebody's favorite hiding place, the place they can put everything they know they need to survive, every secret, every solitude, every nervous prayer, and be absolutely certain I will keep it safe. I will keep it safe.
Humans are greedy. They demand and demand and demand...
In November, I am insecure.
I think I had known somewhere that I do not behoove happiness. I am not meant to have anything. I am not meant to live in this bliss. I am no even sure when it all started, but I know that I have come a ways into the shadows of insecurity and I am afraid that we have run out of our allotted moments of shared joy. I don't want to be alone again. I don't.
Humans are fickle. The slightest doubt can crumble them.
In December, I am grateful.
You have always been there for me. And you have proven to me once again, that you are here to stay. My lack of communication is not an excuse for me to shirk my responsibility to you. So, I want to tell you that: I love you and with you, I love myself too. I do not believe in lonely existences anymore because with only you, my World is brimming with fullness.
Humans are made of life. And life finds a way. Always.