Muse*

It’s the midst of the midnight and the coldness of the breeze was at its peak. The massive rain came to an abrupt stop, making way for bullfrogs to sing their songs and the wind to take over. Apart from that, the room was silent, but my fingers do a lot of talking with this. I hope the loud typing sound of my keyboard can not wake up my roommates as it’s the only thing that breaks the silence in this room. I must be sleeping but these thoughts haunt me before bedtime.

It’s been a week since I’ve last talked to you but it seems like months since that fortunate night happened. It’s weird that this would happen, that I miss someone not even that close to me before. We’ve had our online meetings but that does not signify to the personal touch of that one night even if it had its own dull moments. I’ve rather had a meeting with you on a fastfood restaurant without us talking a single word, than to interact with you every night on Facebook or Twitter for the rest of my college life.

Mia Wallace was right. That night on the resto was full of uncomfortable silences but I don’t have to “yak about bullshit in order to become comfortable”. It might be awkward for you to start almost all the conversations but the point is, that night was all about you. I wanted to know more about you, and you did open up to me. You were a quirky fella and at the same time, a melancholic, in-with-the-drama weirdo. Of course you are more than that, or as you’ve said, “You can not read me”. That makes more of my interest to you, without the creepy overtones of course. Your complexity makes me irk to solve the puzzle that is you. You have been my muse for a while, and actually in this piece.

You really put a spell on me. I’ve never felt this emotional hullabaloo since those strange, cheesy times on high school. They say it’s just simple hormonal mind control, but who cares, I am enjoying this feeling. You’ll never know how I freak out while keeping my cool when that block of you paints a green dot when you were online. You’ll never know how I grin when you fave my tweets or whatever I post. You’ll never know the struggle on how I kept composure that night when we ate at that resto like you’ve struggled to eat those sizzlers.

I liked your quirkiness. I like how our music tastes quite complemented unconventionally. I liked your simplicity in wearing shirts larger than your body size. I liked your apathy and how you used it to the trauma that your past brought you. I hope that have made you stronger in life’s future battles. I appreciate how you strongly faced all these instabilities that your past has muddled you. I liked how emotionally unstable you are at the moment. Not because everyone can have an advantage of you, but because it really needs appreciation.

Weird that I did not even used the word “love” don’t you?

Perhaps, I think of you as if you’re a fragile flower. You are filled with imperfections, but beautiful. I am still amazed despite your frailty. And if that flower will be picked, she will fade and lose her beauty and be used for others’ selfish happiness, not for hers. Those who truly loved her will be taken for granted because a lot more wanted to pick her and a lot more deserved her.

Well, you might read this. You are still my muse up to now, you interesting woman, and I am contented with that, even though sometimes my feelings argue otherwise. I may have failed better this time. But there is no failure, since I have appreciated a walk of life that is you. I hope you’ll conquer all your fears and get over your muddy past. I hope you’re happy, because you really deserve to be.

(*In an unrelated note, Drones, their recent album, was a really good one by Muse. You must listen especially to the song ‘Reapers’)