It's not about the words that we share anymore.It's about those that we don't.

Your silence frightens me.I fear of it creating a deep,black hole between us.

You are on the verge of breaking down,and I am constrained to be the spectator standing on the sideline,a witness of your collapse.

You assume that you are on this alone,but don't you know that I have let myself collapse with you?Take a quick glimpse at the sidelines if you don't believe me,and you will see a quiet disintegration.

My heart weeps with you.It sheds tears of regret in an unpenetrable silence.

I wish I could fix the damage somehow,but I have not been bestowed that kind of capability.Thus,I am reduced to being the spectator.On the sideline.Sharing,fearing what you go through,the burden that you've been compressed down to.

I shall paint my face with a clown's sadness.Black tears trickle across my powder-white face.My eyes are flaccid as they become reflections of your exhaustion,and the crimson frown painted on my lips is the blood thumping within your mind,coarsing down your neck.

If this is a Broadway production,I'd be singing along to the poignant tune of "Send in the Clowns",and the audience shall weep for their hearts shall be squeezed by a mournful feeling.You will be whom I sing to.

Don't you love farce?My fault,I fear.

The morning is a light shade of blue and smells like churning soil.Our house is an echo of the buzzing CPU as well as the fervent,vivid voice of your prayers.Intimate.Steady.Unlike another story within this abode.

I know those prayers are for me.Fragments of words inbetween the intervals of loud music coming from my earphones confirmed this surmise.

Shamed,shamed.I am shamed.

I cannot hate you,and I do not want to let myself hate.It's just that,perhaps,that hatred is reserved for myself.Yes,that is it.

Why are we so different?Flesh and blood link us together and render unchosen responsibilities,yet beneath the skin is another story.Do you know how humiliated I was to show you a different reflection of what you are?A terrible reflection,a heinous one.I grit my teeth from seeing that horrible visage looking back at me,its eyes full of pain and anguish.There is no plea.There is nothing commendable about it.Nothing like you wish for me to be...out of good intentions.I'm sorry.

Beneath my skin is destruction,a soft destruction of the most silent sort.Yet I shall please you and not disappoint.For you are simple,you are certain.You are what I am not.You have what I yearn for.But you won't,you can't,ever know that.

I tuck the mess neatly in my closet,to be taken out when you're not around and,with hope,sort it out by myself.Yet,not without pain.Not without the pain of solitude.

So pray,pray hard that your intentions will materialise for I have no hope for them now.

You.haunt.Me.

Like the Angel of Music.The Opera Ghost.

You.Haunt.Me.

Like the inhuman melody of a Moonlight Sonata.

You.Haunt.Me.

Like a shadow.Never releasing.

You.Haunt.Me.

1.You will develop a desire to spend a huge sum of money from your ATM to purchase extravagant gifts for your significant other.

2.You will start to become not unlike a police searchdog,hot on the trail of your lover's scent which has earlier been programmed into the scent-storing part of your memory.

3.You will become grateful to have an excuse to listen to love songs on the radio when you're in the car.

4.You will begin to develop a weird tendency to smile and talk to yourself even when other people are around(and your excuse for your questionable actions will be:"Hey,give me a break.I'm in love right now.It tends to mess up your head,alright?!"

5.Sometimes,during the night,you will find that your heart will begin to spill overwhelming emotions all over the bedsheet,and,therefore,making a big,sloppy mess of everything.Then you'll grumble to yourself and say:"Oh great.How will I clean all this in the morning?"

6.Your brain will involuntarily become infested with sappy love tunes that are only BEFITTING to be performed in banal wedding ceremonies,and that would be more APPROPRIATELY hummed by dreamy,jealous bridesmaids in awful purple frocks.

7.Most of your diary entries will be filled with fancy stories of your romantic adventures,and,basically,anything pertaining to the lovesick phase that you're in right now(which includes this one,then).Ugh.

Love is a funny thing.

Nothing matters,nothing matters.

Everything has dissolved into our own remote kingdom of downpour.We transcend the physical realm and reach a land where fairy tales turn into reality and bedtime stories materialise.

The streets are aglow with enchantment.The tall,wise trees are smiling,ever so subtly,at two lovesick figures,striding(so carelessly!) under the falling,traslucent beads.

Curious eyes follow us with every step we take together(let them look),and passing vehicles honk and raid us with their headlights.Too late.We are no longer conscious,our feet are not touching the rain-soaked ground anymore.

We are flying without wings.No one can reach us.We disappear like Peter and Wendy...off to Neverland.

PS:Will be back from the land of fairy tales(instead of lunch) not anytime soon.Have a good day!

One day,Heart asks Logic,"Why do you hate me so?What have I done to propel you to drive me into such a dark state of anguish?"

Logic sneers at Heart and answers,"I think you very well know the reason for that.I think you know what it is that you have which I cannot ever attain(as much as I yearn for it),so do not play dumb with me."

To such a cold and inimical reply,Heart becomes slightly shocked and alarmed.He then responds,"I do not know what you mean.We are suppose to be friends.This isn't suppose to be happening because God has made us to suffice each other."

Logic can feel his temper rising as those words escaped from Heart's lips.He detests his friend's earnesty,making him feel condemnable in his own eyes.

"Did not I tell you to stop playing dumb with me?!!You very well know that you have what I do not!You have what it is that I yearn for--the only thing that I ever truly want : a connection with God,that is what!"

There is a pause,but once those sentences fly,Logic cannot stop himself.

"I have always been envious of that relationship you so deeply possess with your Maker,heck,our Maker!I know it is of such a painstakingly beautiful and incomprehensively deep propensity,but I cannot ever feel what you feel for I have not been granted the privilege to experience that!It is only YOU that can have it,never I!!Do you not get that?!!"

What were once alarm and shock reflected in Heart's eyes is now a gentle sadness as he discerns his friend's outburst of rage and contempt.

As a coup de grace to their present interaction,Logic delivers his final speech with a bitter and cold demeanour.

"Just so you know,I've made a  vow to myself to destroy that which you have that I do not.For if I cannot have it,then that ought to go the same for you."

With that,Logic fulfills what he has set for himself to execute,hence,propelling Heart to plunge deeper and deeper in a state of turmoil.Thus,the clutch of Envy has taken hold of their relationship and shatters it gradually so that,one day,all that will be left is not a trace of what once was.

So many stereotypes,so many cliches--I'd like to think that ours is not what theirs are.This is a different world,a different story.Never again will it be once it's unravelled.

My hand in yours,your fingers between mine--interweaving just like our lives and our stories.We share,we dream,we hope.We paint a different picture together.

Solitude is our secret.We find it seeping in once the city sleeps.The night bears witness to all we are,all we've come to be...and I wish for us to share a dance together under the moonlit sky.I wish,just like our fingers,that the inner child inside of us may interweave,and concoct something precious,something many have lost long past.

Let it rain,let it pour.Let the heavenly showers dissipate all that is unclean.Let there be a silent music to be shared between ourselves and no one else,just like it should be.

It is past bedtime,past children's sleeping curfew,but I am still awake.The soreness of my eyes signals me to submit to slumber,to plunge slowly into the illusive realms of dreams.

My dreams are like ghosts and bubbles-no matter how persistent I am to seize them with my outstretched palms,I will always be left empty-handed.

They are ephemeral creatures,dreams are,surrounded by myriad motes of soft light.My dreams float like a toy boat and contort like the body of a fish in the ocean.There is no structure,no rigidity.All are moving incessantly,never ending.And I,too,flutter like the pages of a newspaper caught in the wind.

"Last time they had a concert,the line of fans waiting for tickets was huge,"he told me.

"You mean long,not huge,"I corrected.

"That's what I meant,"he chuckled.We sat side by side,having just noticed each other's presence in our little circle of barely-close friends.We were having italian meals in a done-up restaurant,shielded by glass windows.He ordered pizza smothered with cheese and bean sprouts(like,yuck),and puffed Marlboro cigarettes.The deepness of his laughter became a lingering residue of our conversation,just like the ashes on his tray.That was such a novelty.

We talked on the phone about nothing and about everything.I would listen to him speaking in that unmistakable voice,black and heavy like the lyrics he'd compose.He shared his world and I shared mine,piece by piece.The more he unravelled himself,the more drawn in I was to him.The grounds on which I stood became shaky when matched with the certainty of his creeds,and I felt pathetic,like the losing team in a debate competition.

On valentine's day,he gave me chocolates wrapped in pink.On it was a tiny Post-It note with the word "love" written in black ink.I felt giddy,trying so hard to compose myself because something within was warning me to be wary of his not-so-subtle advances.After all,we were from totally different worlds(as the cliche goes).

One day,he asked me this question:"Do you wish you have someone to whom you can care about and can care about you back?"Red sirens set off in my mind,and I knew he was trying to set me up.

"No,I'm happy just being by myself.After all,being single doesn't have to suck."Immediately,something between us crumbled,disintegrated like shattered bricks.I knew I had destroyed something fragile,but there were no regrets.I was resolute in the path I've chosen.

After that,the gap between us grew and grew until,one day,he was no more the friend but the stranger.Now all that's there is his ghost,haunting me as a shadow in the land of illusions.

Where do I begin?Where do I begin to describe a miracle,a phenomenon?Should I start with Your whispers and how they are etched deeply and lucidly right in the center of my heart?Or maybe in the little trinkets You'd leave for me everyday,subtle surprises so stunning and delicate for the eyes to discern.

Maybe I ought to begin with how You are the only one capable of nourishing my soul,drenching my heart with love like nothing else I've known.From a wanderer-a roving vagabond,to having a purpose to exist,You pave my rock-occluded path and show me light when no one else can.

Praises of love and adoration are lavished at Your presence,yet I falter to truly describe Your incomprehensible being.You are the everything of me,You are my life.