I stop right here

19 Sep

Because things are getting way out of hand and suffocating.

Three months back, I moved in into an apartment which felt home for me. Its pathways that is well-maintained with a green, fine landscape; its little kiosk that serves as my room for cooling off amidst hot afternoon; its facade coated with warm paints; its well-designed structure; and the totality of its ambience that flushes off my stress after a day’s hustle and bustle from work. In fact, I can even glare it atop from the office where I work as if saying: Come home and have a rest.

But lately, it has become just an empty room with only yellow-painted walls speaking to me.

Just an hour ago, a couple missionary came in to my apartment and toured around as they will be the ones to take over after I leave it next month.

Yes, I am leaving my apartment in a month. Thought this apartment has provided me haven, a relief, and more than enough space, no matter how my heart goes against the idea of leaving it, I have to. Because vacating my apartment is the only way I can breathe out from burdening rental fees which have disabled me from catering to some of my needs.

While I am still trying to convince myself that I should let go of my apartment, I am also trying to gain the gumption of letting go of something that is gradually fading from becoming neither a possibility nor a reality.

When it comes to decision-making, I sometimes fall on the ground and tour around bushes, hoping for some real magic and asking the heavens to give me signs which way I should take. The result, it’s either my original plans are shortchanged or everything is ruined and I find myself starting all over the process again.

It took me a li’l while to admit to myself that the possibility I thought was going to happen dies along with futile regrets. Those fleeting moments that I thought would keep the butterflies in my stomach have already found its way to its final exit. And the burning sensation in my chest keeps me from sleep, putting my tears in summon. My eyes already sting as well as my heart. And it’s not funny anymore.

Up to now, I don’t understand why everything suddenly changed. I was, indeed, anticipating a change but something that will not go against what I envisioned to happen. I still don’t understand what went wrong. I’m pretty sure there was a ‘magical thing’ happening along. Or was it only I who was taking it that way? Did I just misunderstand?

Sometimes, even when you think you’re going to make it to the finish line, you just have to hold the break, pull as hard as you can, go on reverse and drive the opposite way as far as you can. Because along the race, you realize that the finish line is posing wide, scary-eyed as if saying it isn’t meant for you.

I decided to stop right at the middle of the race ‘coz my heart tightened with exhaustion. My heart pounds in such intensity that I no longer know how to pacify it rather than letting the tears freely flow, blurring my sight. And if ever I have continued the race, I might just bump myself hard that will cause me even more damage.

Tonight, I am not sure if I can sleep well because my heart has been crying all day long. But because I chose to stop right here, I should take responsibility of my decision. The only possible way  I can stop it from hurting, even for a while, is to put my palms on my chest, hold my heart as close as I can and whisper, like  a motherly instinct: Hush now, baby. Everything’s going to be all right. You’ve been through this before. Hush now…. You’ll be all right… And somehow it does, though it barely lessened the pain.

My heart cries along the possibility that is going far, far beyond my reach. But rather than obsess about it, I’m finding myself steadily losing interest and just doing my own thing. After all, I have been going on with my life alone.  //

One Response to “I stop right here”


  1. My heart will keep beating « sipping coffee. . . - November 20, 2011

    […] When this happens, I would summon all the energy and strength I could to firmly tell myself I should stop right there and then. But as inevitable as it is sometimes, I would convince myself that if I will have the patience to […]

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