Disclaimer: I don't own anything
A/N: Hello people! :) Another angst-filled story here for everyone to read. This is in a first POV story, my long-time readers knows that I'm very fond of making stories like these. Hope you enjoy reading this like I enjoyed writing this, see what I did there? Hehehe :)
Smiling is becoming more of a chore to her than a choice. Something that she had realized just recently, really, how long has she been doing that? She doesn't know the answer, not really, no. Being with people, at one point in her life, was something she immensely enjoyed. It fills her heart. Now, though, it just makes her feel cold and a little hollow. Especially in this particular crowd of people, not that she hates them, it's the exact opposite actually, she loves them dearly, and she really does. It's no lie.
But somehow, being with them is so suffocating that she literally can't breathe. It's as if she's asphyxiating every time she's with them or just near them. It makes her ponder why, she cared for them deeply, loves them to death but all she feels whenever they were with her was just sadness. She touches her cheeks, huh, why's there a tear streak? She doesn't even remember crying, she doesn't remember reading any sad love stories nor did she listened to sad songs or watched any movies of that sort. It's a mystery.
So she wipes the tears away and goes on with her life, her boring and dull life. She smiles but her heart's not in it, she laughs but somehow it sounds hollow in her ears, words comes out of her mouth but it doesn't registers in her mind, she can't comprehends any of them but the words comes out anyway.
She meets up with them sometimes, she laughs at the jokes, reminiscing on certain memories, eating cake together or any food that's currently on the table. And then the goodbye comes along, she still smiles and waves her arm a little. Once they're gone, the smile disappears and the indifferent face she's now familiar with these days shows up.
She walks home with her groceries in hand, walking and walking with the sun setting behind her back until she's in front of the place she now calls home. She takes out the keys on from her pocket, jiggles it a bit with the doorknob, opens the door and then slams it shut once she's inside. She goes directly to her kitchen, fixes dinner, watches TV for a couple of hours before going to bed, then waking up in the morning. She gets ready for work and the day repeats again.
One day when she was in one of her moods to clean the house, the phone rings but she ignores it, the phone then buzzes and plays the message of the call she ignored. A warm and familiar voice speaks, the message permeates around the house, she stops whatever she's doing, stares at the phone like it's going to eat her alive.
She enters the café, the sotto voice of the bells jiggling behind her; she looks around and sees him. She smiles, just a little bit. She saw him look up and smiled at her, waves his free arm and beckons her to his booth. She steps forward, but each steps somehow felt like she is walking on burning coal, hot and painful. But she ignored the feeling and moves forward.
She sits directly opposite of him and he asks her how she's been, she tells him that she's well but doesn't elaborate much detail. Unconsciously putting her guard up, that confuses her a bit since she doesn't do that to him or anyone else really, but she ignores the thought like the feeling earlier.
She saw him smile at her answer but is it her imagination or is it kind of sad? She doesn't know or care really; she just wants it all to be over and done with. She asks how he's been as well, and he answers her as well, but with a little more detail than hers. He mentions someone's name and it made her tense and freezes her on the spot without even meaning to, but he doesn't show him that, no he can't see it.
The waiter comes over their booth and asks what would they have, the arrival made her mentally sigh in relief. She already felt uncomfortable with him that it's akin to paranoia on her part. She takes the menu from the waiter and grips on in a little tighter than she should be, she hopes he doesn't notice. She hears him order something, of what she doesn't know. The words on the menu in front her somehow looks jumbled up, she blinks her eyes a couple times to make her see clearly. She saw something familiar on the menu and orders it.
Once she had ordered, she looks up to him and saw the smile she had once loved and admired. That smile had, once upon a time, made her melt and gives her the warmest of feeling. But now, it doesn't make her feel that way, it makes her feel frustrated and just wants to throw something, anything and to get away, any place without him. A place so far away from him, she can't stand to see that smile now.
They talk, they laugh, and they reminisce on general memories of the past that's so long ago. But the words coming from her mouth is like hearing a robot talk in her opinion, and her laugh, it's so hollow that she can't believe it's really her laughing. The memories, oh the memories, it stings, it's prickling her heart and it bleeds, oh it bleeds just like before, oh so long ago.
But she doesn't voice those thoughts, doesn't let him show what she really felt, never letting her guard up, it actually fortified. She can feel that the smile in her face doesn't reach her eyes; it hasn't since so long ago. She knows that he knows it, the two of them are aware of it. But they ignore it for the sake of civility, has it been so long ago that they had once been close? It felt like a lifetime ago, they would talk, laugh and smile at each other freely, the emotions in their eyes open and the affections mutual. But it's been so long ago since that time, now they're just a couple of acquaintances that talk to each other out of civility, out of formality. It's too stifling.
It's now time to say goodbye, she sighs again in mental relief, finally done she thinks. He bids her goodbye and an offhanded take care, she in turn does the same and lets him leaves first. She silently studies his disappearing frame as he walks away from her. She felt the tears in her eyes but she harshly wipes them away, she will never give him the satisfaction that she had cried for him. The time of crying is long since over, she will never give him the satisfaction that she still, she still loves him that it breaks and bleeds her heart.
After everything, especially after everything, the feelings no, the burning affection is still within her, still burning, still hurts her to death. But she won't let it show, not now not ever, even if she dies and is on her last breath, she won't tell anyone, especially him. No, she'll bring it to her grave, to her next life if possible. She won't give him the satisfaction; she won't let herself get hurt like before, not now or ever. She's now older, wiser and oh so learnt, she'll guard her heart from him until the day she dies.