Dying is the Easiest Part

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Wrong Judgment

I sat on the sand as I listen to the waves crashing against the shore. I'm still trying to get the argument that I had with Gabriel out of my mind, but it sucks because I'm the type of person who couldn't just easily distract myself and stop thinking about things after being told, "Stop thinking about it."

Funny how my mind could be invaded by millions of thoughts and still, I suck at doing multiple things all at the same time.

I remember those times when I was still truly, madly, and deeply in love with writing that I refused to be in a relationship. I trained myself not to fall in love with guys and to let them sink under my skin because once my interest shift into something different... it is going to be impossible for me to write.

And now I think I'm kinda regretting those days where I hold myself back from exploring and enjoying other things instead of choosing to stay at home, sit in front of my laptop and write nonstop.

I should have said yes to those "Wanna hang out?" invitations coming from my friends. I should have allowed myself to feel what it's like to be in love with the world instead of confining myself in a world that didn't even love me back.

I sigh, looking at the ocean again. The sun is still there. I have seen the sun risen so many times, but lately it doesn't seem shining for me.

A presence of a man from my behind and the weight of his stares suddenly pulled me out from my trance. I look at him over my shoulder and I was surprised when I saw the guy with tantalizing blue eyes, standing two feet apart from me. His hands were shoved inside the pockets of his shorts and his blue eyes are staring deeply at the ocean.

If there's one thing that I find fascinating about this guy aside from how he appears— it's the way he looks at the ocean. It's so deep. Like he got a connection to it.

Now I want to believe that he is a mermaid.

Considering how weird everything's been happening lately, that's not impossible to happen.

A gasp almost escapes from my lips the second I his gaze suddenly shifted towards me. Our eyes meet and I clench my jaw at how intense it felt. I stare at him for a second and I realized that aside from his eyes, he's got a nice wavy hair, too. It's long, but not too long. Just enough for me to run my fingers through the strands.

It has a color of a darker shade of blonde and I wonder how many girls have had touched it, gripped it, or simply run their fingers through it.

I avoid his gaze after realizing that I've been staring at him for too long. I look back at the ocean, without saying anything— or signing anything. I just wait for him to leave, but it's been ten seconds and I can still feel him standing behind me.

"I hate my life..." I suddenly say, sharing that major sentence that has been running through my mind for the longest time. I know he can't hear me and this is the perfect time to get things off my chest without holding back with the fear of being not understood.

"Have you ever experienced being regretful? That's how I feel right now. I regret my past decisions that made me end up into a 20 year-old, miserable girl who got lost in so many places and now she can't even remember her way back home," I say, hugging my knees and then I start drawing circles on the sand before I keep ranting to a deaf guy who clearly dislike my presence.

"And in every place I get lost into, I tried digging every ground I see, trying to find my old self back but she's not there anymore."

"I can't even remember how I got here. I don't know when it started, I don't know how it started, but all I know is I do hate my life... passionately. And I hate everyone around me... I don't know why, I just hate them." I sigh, grabbing a fistful of white sand. It felt so powdery soft against my skin.