textbook exception; z.hao

six

"a discarded string, left unused"

huang hera

__________________
"
i kept holding onto everything we once had. i kept every single messages he sent. each one being tiny pieces of his being, a reminder in which he was there, in which he cared. but now as i here, surrounded by digital memories, the drawer of our moments has been wiped off from the data of my brain, i had realised, perhaps i was the only one who was holding on.
"
-journal of 2019
__________________

2018

watching his figure from afar, wishing i could be the reason for his happiness, knowing damn well we were doomed the moment our souls stumbled upon each other. every time, the corner of his smile lift up, painting a picture-perfect smile, my heart frolic, it felt like a knife twisting my bare chest, knowing i shouldn't be the person to paint the smile i longed for him to show because of me. i longed to reach out to him, hold him close to my heart, showered him with affirmation. however, my love kept inside a prison, pushing him further away inside the lonely walls of white-painted wallpaper.

every waking days of winter felt like slow torture in a mental asylums, seeing his façade of happily ever after, a complete opposite, all's well that ends well, they says, he's the epitome of complete opposite. i lingered through his shadows; invisible to him, after all i'm just a snotty poor girl who's slightly better at academic. his smile, acting like a dagger, piercing through every inch of my mundane body, painfully reminded of what couldn't be mine, what could've been.

every sunsets, i lay awake while the owl sings with its whole heart, tortured by the thoughts of what ifs. i find myself imagining a metaphorical life in which he looks at me with a feeling so profuse, he'd hold my hands for the whole world to see, conversations during midnight where we'd share our dreams and fear without any care, without reservations. but of course, reality always come crashing down, reminding me of the different world we lived in, he belongs in a world i wouldn't fit in.

so, i'll watch him from afar, memorising every detail of his face, every nuance of his laughter, every musical piece he ever played, knowing these moments are all i have of him, nothing more. he was the sky in my darkened sky, a sunshine lightning off the blue sky with its hue while i am the rainy weather during midnight. we resembled the sun&moon, always together never belonged with each other. heck, i wasn't even the moon to his sun, only a distant star shining weakly in the vast ocean of the expanses of his universe.

there were days which i hope to erase his existence from my life, to free my dying self from the agony of clandestine love. but deep down, i realised that, the pain of loving one i couldn't have was better than the emptiness of not having him at all. i tried to distract myself, to find solace in academic, in sports, but nothing compare to him. he was oblivious to the raging typhoon within me, unaware of tears i shed for a love that could never be. but i couldn't hate him, my pathetic understanding, and my eyes that easily catches people's emotions.

the inferiority and superiority complex fighting each other every day, self-loathing for a feeling i couldn't decipher properly.

"i'm sorry for loving you, hera."

those words, cuts down my skin, bruised and stitched back together multiple times. he's aware of the pain he's putting me in yet it seems so easy for him. i tried to hate him for the candy-covered bruised, yet the masochist in me romanticised the heartbreaks, hurting each other is our source of happiness and love, it's the only language we've ever been thought.

...

november of 2019

"
darling, i glorify you for all the wrong things. who cares if it's all a summer fling, a contraband meetings against all laws of your people. doesn't it makes me sound insane ? the story of us left unsaid, chapters unfinished, dust collecting on every page with your name plastered on. you were the subject of my thousands of eulogy. you'd always leave me hanging like the garden of babylon you once drew.

you must've been guilty of something, you'd turned our epiphany into a slaughterhouse, when you were the one i kept close to my heart while others simply reside in arm lengths. i'd knew, eventually you'd go back to safer things, but you were my achilles heels, i'd run back to you every single lifetime but i wasn't yours to claim, every single time. heck, was i even yours in this lifetime ?

you'd showered me with affections, knowing i'll crave for your warmth every winter approaching. how could you be so cruel to leave without a say ? oceans and tides away from the wavering soil you once stand on ? was i nothing but a chapter in your life, a past you'd joke to your friends about, an experiment while you were on vacation of your unknown feelings ?

"

"he, what ?" my head was in a messy state, heart beating uncontrollably. it has been days since i had heard from hao, however this was not the news i was expecting when i arrived at campus. "what do you mean he dropped out ?!" i took a deep breath as i compose myself, straightening my dress, eyes on the older man standing before me, the head of art in this university.

"i told you already. he came by a few days back and submitted this letter of withdrawal !" the man toss the enveloped letter on the table, horrific i swallow the taste of metal on the back of my throat, biting my lips until crimson coloured liquid was oozing out so freely like an albatross above water. i had been crawling on your feet, wishing you'd love me.

i opened the door to the gym of my suffering, sounds of colliding shoes and yelps of women risking their life to keep a mere ball on air. "huang hera, just because you're world renowned athlete, doesn't mean you can skip practice !" a female with shoulder-length hair screams, i'm convinced if she utter another word her vocal cord might explode because my eardrums almost burst from her sudden exclaim.

"i turned in my letter of medical check up to the head coach. did you think i'd skip without reasons ?" i remain a compose stance, a sarcastic smile made its way on the structure of my feature. walking towards the brunette with a tilt of head, whispering beside her ear, the tingling sensation of a horrific sight is amusing. "beside, wouldn't you know better than me on that matter ?" i rightfully scanned her terrified eyes, the way her hands was shaking and torn lips trembling on fear that one might've stumbled upon her secret she had kept inside a safe where no one could find, building a wall of aluminium hoping it'd be enough.

"why are you so pale, yi zuo ?" i let a chuckle slip away, clasping my hands together. i makes my way towards the locker room at the end of the gymnasium, as the head coach was slowly approaching, a sight from the installed windows on the entrance. the dirty smirk on his face, high and below— as if all the dirty deeds he had done was never recorded, how could someone be so confident, does he really not know of the footprints he left or is he plain stupid ?

another day had come to an end, my phone ringed up; i hated the sole control a man had over me, picking it up hurriedly incase he'd called— only to be met with disappointment luring over my whole existence. the imposter syndrome which was buried and forgotten long ago, i had forgotten why the diagnosis was even made, had came back risen from ashes, a guilty pleasure of hatred on the thoughts of failure. i had brought this upon myself, did i not ? so, why does it feel so goddamn terrible.

...

- i swore eyes were made to cry,
but you're the first person i've seen
whose proven that might be a lie.

— interlude;
i was reminiscing just the other day over coffee, sitting there all alone, and lord, it took me away. back to a first glance feeling during winter, back when you fit my poems like a perfect rhyme.