The chill of the Christmas season was getting to me. It was 3 a.m.and I could not put myself to sleep. I looked at the rumpled person in front of me. Her hair was unkempt and her eyes, which looked tired and drowsy, had bruise-like shadows beneath them. Her cheeks were scrawny and her face was pale. She told me, " You think too much". I asked myself that, too. Do I? The question would always come up during those late hours of night, when there's no hiding. I liked my life, the way it's turned out. I was miraculously still at school, I had passed my favorite subject with the exact grades I needed, there is no problem with my home life, I had great friends and I have great years ahead of me. Or do I?
The shabby person stared back. Why was it that when we want to sleep the most, sometimes, we just can't? Or was it just me? People change, but what if I do not want to change? Like, what if I just turn into a vampire one night and just live forever, unchanging? I just said I liked my life. Why was I whining?
For the longest time I had been debating with myself if I should ever feel this way. Edward and his beautiful face, his perfect chiselled body, and his old school ways, that's all I can ever think of. Edward of the summer past. Edward smiled at me that me that one summer night and in the language of smiles, his smile, mirrored mine, said something - something that gave away nothing, and at the same time, everything. The first time I ever saw him, I was floored. He was unlike anything I have ever seen before. BY the time I first talked to him, I knew this was it. I made excuses to be with him. And every single time the excuses got flimsier and flimsier. I was practically stalking him already. I felt like a squashed veggie when I don't see him even just for a day.
There was a glint of smile playing across the scruffy person's face. She held a
white flag. Suddenly, there were white flags all over, on the slightly opened window and above the door. And then I realized that person was me. But no. I am the master of my own destiny. To put it Dido's way, there will be no
white flag above my door. I'm in love, and always will be.
by:
The Flagman
