Notes: Inspired by the neon lights I saw at the airport in Shanghai while I was waiting for the plane to take-off on my return flight to Hong Kong.
I was reflecting on my experience of falling into one-sided love, and suddenly I began to think about a certain SD boy. ^_~ The fic is dramatized, so it isn't really based on my emotions. *winks*
Plotless and very dissatisfactory, but better than nothing, I think. ^_^" eheh…
NEON LIGHTS
I step into the empty house. The stairs creak softly beneath me and through the darkness, I make my way silently up into my room. I drop my belongings on the floor and without reaching to switch on the lights, I close my eyes and fall onto the bed.
Not a sound echoes around me. For a moment I lie still, the hollow silence treading through my thoughts. And then, as usual, I open my eyes and gaze out of the window at the neon lights of the city outside.
I used to be able to fool myself into believing that these same feelings and emotions only came to me at night. Somehow, I can't seem to fool myself into believing that anymore.
I stare motionlessly at the lights flashing outside, brightening up the darkness of the night sky like solid rays from the sun. And as usual, I think of you. Because somehow, that's what you are to me. A series of neon lights.
At the beginning when I thought of you, I would smile. Real, sincere smiles like never before. Smiles reserved for you and you only. But now, I feel tired. Helplessly tired. And although I want to smile, although you undoubtedly are the only person who can truly make me smile, I don't feel like smiling anymore.
You came into my life in a sudden burst of light. Your strands of hair like amber strings from the sun, your laughter and bizarre antics like chords of heavenly music. The first time I laid my eyes on you, the first neon light lit up. And at the beginning I ignored it; I ignored the fact that you were the only person who aroused my interest in the meaningless, hypocritical monotony of my life.
But when I saw you on court, the second neon light lit up. When you soared through the air, when you dashed through your surroundings at the speed of light, when your undying emotion and ambition blinded you – I was captivated, breathless; hypnotized. And this time I couldn't ignore it. Because it mesmerized me every minute of every day; like a psychotic obsession – persistent, addictive … thrilling.
And when I talked to you, when I looked into those golden brown orbs of yours, the third neon light immediately followed. With each ounce of knowledge I gained of you – what you liked to do, what you dreamt of doing, what you thought of this and that – with each thing I learned about you, the neon lights of my heart would light up one by one; instantaneously, automatically, like genetic mechanisms attached to my consciousness.
A series of neon lights. That's what you are.
This used to be thrilling, exciting.
This used to send waves of anticipation through my veins, a heartfelt
smile plastered on my features not only when I was in front of people, but even
when I was alone. Like the beauty of
neon lights from afar; admired, celebrated, charged with excitement and
enthusiasm.
I sigh and sit up to lean against the wall.
Even neon lights wear away eventually.
Soon people grow bored of the thrill of the everlasting bursts of colour. Soon people begin to yearn for darkness
again, soon they grow bitter and fed up with the fact that the lights lie too
far away to be reached. Soon neon
lights lose their energy, and all that remains of the once thrilling bursts of
life and animation is the dragging, persistent pleading of routine, electrical
weakness. And all of a sudden, neon
lights aren't what they used to be anymore.
And that's what you are to me now. Tiring, painful – but yet persistent, indestructible. And I lie here every night, knowing I can never reach you, but yet feeling the lights deep within me still flashing – like the hope inside me that I just can't seem to put out.
People don't know who I am. I don't even know who I am. I know that this is stupid. I know that I can't do this; I can't base my whole life on one person.
But you make it impossible for me not to.
Do you ever think of me? Me as I am now; me as who I am inside? Or do you simply spend a few split seconds feeling aggravated by my smile, by the stupid things I end up saying to you – trivial things that don't mean anything at all.
I feel an urge to laugh.
To think of it, it would be characteristic of my 'straightforward' and 'laid back' personality to simply tell you how I feel, to tell you that I want to be with you. But I don't know why, I can't bring myself to do it.
Maybe it's because that isn't even my 'personality' anyway. Maybe it's because I can predict how you and the rest of the world will respond. Maybe it's because I'm afraid to lose you, even though I never had you in the first place. Maybe it's because I'm just scared. Scared of life, scared of emotion, scared of everything that people are supposed to be born with.
I don't understand life. I don't understand God, if there is one. If I hadn't met you, I would have gone on with life in monotony and disinterest, with lack of emotion and meaning. If I hadn't met you, I wouldn't be drowning in this unshakable pain and eternal sense of weariness that never seems to let go of my heart. Why did you have to come into my life with your billions of neon lights? With your emotion and your sincerity, with your naivety and happiness, with your meaning – with your aura of passion and … love?
I glance out of the window one last time and then pull down the curtain firmly, closing my eyes and letting out a heavy breath.
It's in times like these that I really don't want meaning in my life. That I really don't want you in my life.
That I really don't want - love - in my life.
But maybe one day, your neon lights will go out. Maybe one day, things will go back to the way they were before you brought meaning to me.
Maybe one day, I'll get over you.
But until then … goodnight, Hanamichi.
End