Fall Not

EPISODE 6

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Claire already finished cooking after we discussed a bit of her issue earlier, we’re both quietly enjoying our lunch, sitting beside each other on our favorite sofa. The house is quite silent today is it because this lady beside me is still being chased by her thoughts about her unpublished book? She keeps on sighing, frowning and her eyebrows are bridging the little gap between them.

Is she able to swallow down her food properly in that situation?

If only it was already midnight, she would again be crying inside her room drowning herself with negativities. She doesn’t even care if her anxiety gets worse.

I tapped her shoulder as she spaced out, looking at spaces. “It’ll be okay, Claire. It will be,” said I in a soft, comforting voice. I’m not good at giving advice but when it comes to Claire, suddenly I’d utter words of comfort unexpectedly. No clue at all.

“I’m not okay.”

“I know,” I agreed. “…and you don’t need to pretend to be okay in front of me if you are not. You can always pour it out, just then you’ll feel the lightness in your chest that has been pulling you down. Every author like you knows how heavy a small burden is, but that, too, shall pass away.”

I looked at her and forced a sincere smile, she just let her head slowly lean on my shoulder. Then, a second after, I can hear her sobbing. She is in pain. I just closed my eyes and let the time fly. I’m always open arms for this soft-hearted lady, I can see that she’s always been tough, and that’s why she carries such heavy thoughts with her.

Slowly, I grabbed my laptop beside me, with just my right hand not to interrupt her, and opened the mailbox to read one of her entries. Most of her poems are sorrowful, and few were written with happy sentiments, for her, writing is a comfort zone to let her thoughts be spoken through rhyming words.

BITTER-SWEET LIFE.

Almost wasted my energy, should I refuel at a near station?

Numerous times have I assumed, that maturity would fill me instantly,

Even if I never ask for it, it’ll consume me unexpectedly.

Curiously I wrote things about myself, will I ever understand me?

Reality has hit me hard; I almost lost my memory.

A different me was activated, I needed to be on guard, or else.

The crowd will suffocate my lungs, it blocks the air I’m wanting to inhale.

Enough time for me to live, and to leave, should I choose between the two.

The world is turning its back on me, but never the back of this lady.

She has been a comfort and a sweet perfume at times life offers me bitterly.

Though things are pulling me down, whether they be light or heavy

Her hand keeps on pulling me back, to where she knew I belong.

When will I ever thank her, for being my hopeful song?

Written by: C.M.

I couldn’t help but smile, this is the treasure I always wanted her to see inside her. This talent is not just a mere talent any Publishing Company can find along the highway, they need Claire.

After reading her poem, it makes me rethink what I have done to this woman that she can mention a bitter and rude friend like me in her poem, so sweet, though I hate sweet gestures like this.

“maybe the person mentioned wasn’t—”

“That’s you of course, who else?” I haven't noticed that Claire is also reading the poem and is now probably glaring at me but when my eyes landed on her stares, the sadness within is powerful.

“You can also be an actress, Claire. Sadness suits you well,” said I, teasing her, those words do make her laugh for a second. That is her, she may be consumed by sadness for an hour but in just a minute, all eventually fades.

“Life has given me this kind of power, to make sadness dwell long enough within me that it makes me even prettier, right?” said Claire with her sweet-sarcastic smile, look who’s bragging about her own wasted tears.

This time I need to give her a cold smile for that pride, “Yeah, you’re pretty but not quite when you cry. You look like a broken-hearted college student—”

“Never mind, whatever,” said Claire rolling her eyes and leaning again her head on my shoulder.

When will this lady beside me ever feel that her existence is enough to see herself as a masterpiece along with her poems that are so heartfelt, I don’t even know how on earth she put her whole sincerity between those stanzas and rhyming words. It makes me cringe every time I read her poems, but it’s always worth reading. Yet I will not join Claire in her sobbing today, I mean ever.

I will let her always have the stage.

“You know what Claire, I have read some statement somewhere on social media, that says, it’s okay to cry,” said I and look at her calm eyes. “because they concluded that even at the beginning of our life just after we were born, crying is a wonderful sign that proves we are alive,” I added and let out a deep sigh.

“Maybe the dream of being an author is supposed to be yours, it fits you well.” She responded.

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please refer to the next episode for the continuance of the story. Thank you for reading.