The Wings Of A Caged Bird | First Draft

chapter 27: in the caliginous fog

"I'm sorry," I finally say.

Right now, the two of us are sitting in front of the little cave we had discovered the first day we came to the waterfall. The sky being overcast, we decided it would be best to remain close to a shelter so that our conversation doesn't get interrupted. The clouds are hesitating to rain down. Hence a shadowy moonlight still persists around us, giving just enough brightness for me to make out the objects in my surroundings.

As soon as I let those words out, a heavy brick is lifted off my chest. But another one still remains in fear of whether the apology will be accepted immediately or not. All I know is that the apology is sincere, and I am ready to explain myself.

I glance at him sideways, and find his gaze fixed on the ground. I decide to continue.

"My whole life," I begin, "I have lived by . . . running away from pain, like most humans do. But unlike most humans, I didn't really run towards happiness either. As long as I could avoid the pain, it was fine with me. Neutrality is the best state of emotion, is what I concluded years ago. Whenever I became mildly happy, there would be a dread rising in me that this happiness is going to fade away soon. So I ran away from sorrow and stayed away from happiness, but in the end, I couldn't escape the hands of either."

I bring my knees to my chest, eyes firmly fixed on the ground. "I realized there is nothing I can do but to accept it. This is what it is to be a human. But though I told myself that I would accept it, I suppose a part of me still clung to the notion. One of the many ways I chose to run away from sadness is to tell lies to myself. I never lied to others, and I could tell when others lied to me. But neither of those are true when it comes to me with me. I lied, and lied, and lied- to the point I came to believe those lies, and any part of me that didn't, I buried them all down. I allowed the questions to come to me occassionally, but pretended I didn't know the answer. My whole life, I've just been fake to myself. My whole life . . . I've just been wronging myself, July.

"But ever since Dawn made that wish, I had to suddenly start changing this huge and significant aspect of my existence. I suddenly had to start facing my pain instead of turning away from it. And with you . . . with you beside me, I then suddenly found myself chasing happiness too, instead of keeping a safe distance from it. Both ends of my life principles started getting destroyed, July. I- I got scared. I got so scared. And whether knowingly or unknowingly, I let that fear consume me whole. I let it control me, my behavior, my actions, my decisions. I know that's not an excuse, and I'm not trying to give any- I just want you to understand why I did what I did."

"I understand," he says in a small voice.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and gulp the stone stuck behind my Adam's apple down. Then I open my eyes, a foreign surge of courage now swelling in my heart. And I say, "But not anymore."

Through my peripheral vision, I see him turn his face to me.

I continue, "But not anymore, July. Because I realized, that no matter what I do, I can't protect myself from being happy, nor can I protect myself from being sad. Maybe I could have, if I wasn't so honest. If I was more aloof to my emotions. But for people like me, it's impossible. It is simply a waste of time, a battle that would never end, a war that has no fruit nor purpose. God has given me two choices, both of which will lead me towards sadness."

He shifts slightly, as if in anticipation.

I take another deep breath. "But there is only one choice among the two, that will also gift me happiness."

I finally turn my face to him, and find his eyes glittering like twinkling stars in the pale moonlight.

I tell him, "You are that happiness, July. And I want to willingly run to you."