Their Days of Nights

23 : Mood

Kimberly

It started yesterday. This mood.

Everything was fine and normal in the beginning, and then it wasn't.

I ignored Nick's Facebook message. I laughed with my friends. And I tried as much as I could to act neutral around Goofy or just avoid him. It was next to improbable because we're in the same team sharing the same pod, and we have the same set of office friends, but it wasn't that bad.

Then my mother called.

"Can't it wait?" I asked.

I was at home already and about to go to bed. I was tired.

"No. I need it tomorrow," she said. And she sounded like the world will end if I refuse to do what she asked.

"Okay, alright," I mumbled.

It was nine a.m. on a cloudy Friday.

I got up and got dressed. I went down and out to the nearest bank; to mine first, then to theirs. And it happened to be one of those days when people thought of the same thing and flocked to the same bank.

Needless to say, this errand took a chunk of my time.

My mother said she needed to pay someone she owes a loan to, and that she's borrowing this money from me. But I know from experience that she never pays me back.

I got home fifteen minutes before noon, and it was raining.

I don't like the rain, but it almost always pours on my bad days.

I couldn't sleep after. I find it hard to do so whenever I'm feeling too much.

I went to work last night with a grey cloud above my head.

I'm still cranky at present.

I try watching The Big Bang Theory episodes to somehow lift my spirit up as it did before, but it's not working. I lie back and blink at the boring white ceiling instead.

This mood started yesterday with my mother's voice, and it's taking over the rest of me right now. I feel like I'm morphing into folds upon folds of everything wrong in my life. The worst part is I'm here by myself, and I've never felt this alone before.

First, I hate my job. If not for the most basic motivation for survival, I would have quit a long time ago.

Second, I feel sorry for Goofy, though I shouldn't be. It's not my fault that he likes me. But I can't, for the life of me, just tell him I don't share what he feels. I don't know, I think it has something to do with my issues with rejection. I know I have to tell him one way or another, or I'll just hurt that boy even more, and I'd feel even worse.

Third, I'm unsure of what to do with Benjamin. It doesn't need an expert to tell me that he never wanted us to be just friends. For a minute, I'd think that's great, but then I'd also consider what happened between us, and why we even reached this chapter in our story. What's harder is now I know there are other guys out there, who'll probably also offer the world to me. The good thing there is they haven't hurt me yet, or never made a promise they'd later break. Sometimes, I'd long for this euphoria I never had. But at the end of every freaking day, I still end up thinking about Benjie; end up texting him, dreaming about him even. Then I'm reminded of things.

How my heart flutters with furious beats when his eyes meet mine, even when he's far away in a room. Or when he's walking to or away from me. Or the way he carries his body like he's so sure of himself—confident, but doesn't give a damn about it. Or the simplest gesture when he runs his fingers through his hair. More so when he smiles and laughs, even though they look and sound a little sad.