Sunday, October 28, 2007

I Saw You

"I’ve had all that I can take
I'm not about to break
Cause I’m happy now
Are you happy now?"

Are You Happy Now (2003) by Michelle Branch

There is a person you don't want to see - someone you try not to think about at any time of the day. You suppress the thoughts and you suppress the emotions, and you sweep them all under a rug. And soon, a noticeable lump forms under that rug, pregnant with all the thoughts and all the emotions you try to ignore, but still you pretend not to see. When people point that out to you, saying "Hey, there's a lump under your rug," you reply, saying "What lump?" and change the subject. You continue to subconsciously press these feelings down, and you let that lump grew to abominable proportions. You don't care because you can't see them. There's only the rug and that's that. And one day, when you finally meet that person you don't want to see on the streets, or at a party, or in a cafe - or wherever that chance venue happens to be - you are pleasantly surprised to find that you aren't reacting to it. There's no upwelling of regret, sadness, disappointment or rage whatsoever. You feel glad. You feel lightened. You feel as if a ridiculously weighty burden have been lifted off your shoulders and for the first time in months, you straighten your back and take a liberating breath which inflates your insides which have shriveled up over all those time you spent being miserable.

Then you leave that street, that party, or that cafe congratulating yourself on having rid yourself of a terrible, protracted, self-imposed sentence of wretchedness. You're fucking pleased with yourself, and there's that shit-eating grin on your face that shows. You have forgiven yourself, and you're a newer man than before you ran into that person you most not want to run into.

Then, a prickly hotness pushes behind your eyeballs, and you blink once. A single drop of warmth run down your cheek to your smiling lips. You taste salt, and the wet trail that warmth left behind on your face feels cold against the evening breeze. You wipe that away with the back of your hand, feeling at once shocked and disbelieving. "This is not how I'm feeling," you say to yourself indignantly, but still you cry some more.

Something inside is hurting real bad, and you're not sure why.

Still smiling,
k0k s3n w4i