Maximus of Mine

Page 23 Smoke Around Us

"What are your plans for King's day?" Casper asked me as I lay on my bed, reading a haircare magazine.
"Read in my room? Wash my hair too. Are we supposed to have plans for Kingsday?"

"Well, I will go on a date with my girlfriend,"

"Casper?" I got up, "You have a girlfriend? And I don't know her?"
"Well, now's your chance to know her. Come to the party with me."

I hate parties. But he kept on insisting. So I accompanied him. And as I had imagined, everyone was either drunk or high. I felt so uncomfortable. I don't want to be there. Honestly, I don't think I want to anywhere right now. I don't know what triggered this, but I suddenly felt so lonely. 

Everyone was dancing and enjoying themselves, and here I was, clasping my hands in front of me, standing in a corner and looking at them. Usually, I liked being a spectator, but today it felt lonely. "Casper, I'm sorry, but I'll have to leave,"

"Why? It's so fun?" He looked at me and Femke smiled, "Are you okay?
"I feel sick. I think I need some air,"
"Want me to get you some water?"
"No, I'll be fine," I don't want to ruin your fun. At least one of us is enjoying it.

I went out and stood by myself in the bicycle lane, staring at the forest behind me while turning my head. The trees reached up so high and merged in the dark sky. 

"You're here to have fun, Daffine! Life is good! It's your decisions that make it otherwise,"

I know I'm here to have fun, Mom. But I'm not having fun at all. I feel so isolated in this country, all by myself. And my mind is my biggest prison where I hold myself tight to never allow myself to reach out for help. Because what if I reach out and there's no hand there waiting for me to pull me out of this prison? 

After all, it's quite impossible to love that which is gone without being able to...or wanting to love something which lives... It's finally sinking in...The fact that all my relationship have failed me, and I've wasted so long just loving things that would never love me back, I've wasted so much time trying to have someone wanting to have me, love me and...

"Hey curlhead!"

I turned head straight and looked at a familiar figure. I got up, "Oh, you again!" It was that hoodieboy..."Good evening! What are you doing here?" I asked him. I never thought I'd see him again. 

We stood under the same streetlight, the light was falling on his lashes, lightening them up to a colour that probably peace would look like. "That was what I was going to ask you," 

We had a short conversation, but it wasn't small talk. We talked a little of his past, and little of mine, though mine was more hidden between my words and his. Is it enough to reach him? I hope not. I don't want to reach this stranger. 

"It's not that deep, curlhead," I looked down, he loathed feeling things. I saw myself in him, except that he was disillusioned. And I was still keeping blind faith. If I am fire that burns, he's probably the ash that I too, will inevitably end up becoming. 

"Sex is real. Love is a sham," He said as he puffed in his smoke. His hate for love petrifies me... Because I never want to end up like him. To think that love is not something that deep. Because if it isn't...then why don't we understand it? If it isn't, then why do our mothers love us unconditionally? Why can't science explain love or call it religion and debunk it? 

Because probably love is that deep. Maybe not for you...Because you've only ever loved with your body. 

-To be continued