Confessions of a 5'1"

Is it weird that I read what you wrote the minute after you posted it up? The timing seems unreal.

I had a dream last night.

Like how most dreams turn out after you wake up, I don't remember the details or much of the surroundings. But I can remember a gist of what was happening.
I was semi-omniscient on the events in this dream and I shifted between the two main individuals in turn. They were good friends, possibly even lovers the boy and the girl. They were participating in this days long race; to where I wasn't sure. The two of them had passed preliminaries together and had promised each other that they would get through it together and their hopes were high. However, somewhere along the competition, the man ended up leaving the girl to go on ahead.

I remember, his running shoes were yellow.

He got further and further ahead without even a look back. The girl continued onwards as well, and she kept trying... trying so hard to catch up so they could finish this together. Eventually, reaching the end of the race wasn't what she was straining and destroying her body for. It became the man who had left her behind. All she wanted was to be at his side again and she cursed herself for being so weak-so slow. She didn't give up and I commend her for it. But what of the promise that continued to abrade every step he took away from her?

He finished the race alone, quite very alone. Did he feel pride in himself for doing so well? Was he proud of his strength and his stamina? What of the girl, did he think of her struggling days behind him or did he keep his sight forwards? His shoes were all but worn away, torn and beyond repair---just like that promise to make it to the finish. Together or never.

I had this dream last night and it broke my heart.

There's a cliff nearby where I live that overlooks the lake. The entrance is chained off and an invisible path leads further in past the arms of trees. It was the first time I saw someone there other than myself but I wasn't surprised. It was as if the girl was waiting for me. I didn't recognize her, but there are many things I don't recognize.

She had been crying, the tears dried by the wind on her flushed cheeks. Her eyes, however, were empty and hollow, her lips cracked and pressed closed tightly. I was tempted to whisper in her ear:
"Don't hold your breath, you'll miss the air."

But I held back as she exhaled delicately and drew in a stream of life like she knew what was dancing on my tongue. Instead, we sat there with our sides pressed against one another as we faced the bitter weather from both sides and looked out on infinity blue.

This? Why this is the loneliness of two.

Exactly 1,883 miles away, a door closes. When I laid there after you left, thinking about it, its pretty strange to be able to hear something that far away... its also pretty strange how much it hurts as well.

The sound of the hinges creaking wrenches something undefinable inside and the finale when its finally shut echoes away into silence . No applause, no standing ovation. Then there's afterwards. When I sit up and the emptiness; the loneliness embraces me and I am hollowed. There's a reason why I'm indecisive. Its simply my method of avoiding self-inflicted disappointment that coexists with any decision I make. I don't want to keep you from anything, but your company is also really nice. Does that make me selfish? My fault, my bad.

When I hear that door close between my dear friend and I?
My heart drops and I can't seem to find it again.
Maybe because its one thousand, eight hundred and eighty-three miles from me.

我想問你一個問題。。。


你愛我嗎？你真的愛不愛我。
你為什麼選擇我？


我不會滿足，如果你告訴我 "因為這是命中註定的"。
因為我不相信緣分。

I feel like if I stay around too much, there's bound to be a wreck soon.

I'm taking a break, and the next time you ask me why I'm crying or upset, I don't want to have to lie and tell you its allergies.

I'm getting away from this time bomb before it kills us both.

But I'm going to start from when I was two. That was when I had a set goal in mind every day when I woke up. When the only thing that could make me upset was being forced to eat vegetables at dinner.

Then I was five, when I thought my brother was the most miraculous being alive for being able to press this button on a children's book to make it talk when every time I tried, I failed.

Kindergarten was a short dream. I learned the most I ever would in a year there. How to tell the weather, communicating, sharing. I learned crafts, the importance of specific things, the joys of never being alone. But then again, that was a time when we were all clueless about reality.

In Grade 1 was when I first really became "shy". I finally had a vague realization that the words 'best friend' didn't apply to every person in my class. This was also when I began to be wary of my brother.

By the time Grade 2 ended, I had experienced my first big loss, not a missing barbie shoe, but a person. I also had my first incident of bullying and being an outcast.

Before Grade 3, I had purposely committed my first minor felony and realized I'm not a person who can stand the weight of guilt. After Grade 3, I found two new loves in the form of one person.

Grade 4 was a year of rest.

The summer before Grade 5 was when I had to leave my safety to a place of unknown. I participated in friendlessness that year.

Sometime in Grade 6 was when my brother deemed me "unworthy to have our family name" in front of both me and our parents, it was my introduction to low self esteem and the feeling of being valueless.

I experienced my first death in Grade 7. I spent months crying after he was gone.

Grade 8 is when I felt normal for the longest time in my life.

Somehow, Grade 9 became the year of most drama, but also the year I enjoyed and appreciated the most despite losing someone to time.

I was slowly losing my grip on the things most important in Grade 10, but I couldn't bring myself to hold on any tighter. I was accepted into a family this year that I am sometimes ashamed to admit felt closer than my own.

I tried to regain the things I lost the year right after in Grade 11, and I'm still not exactly sure how well I did, but it was the year I actually felt like someone who was capable of achieving notable things.

The two months before Grade 12 was when I was isolated from nearly everyone but surrounded by even more was when I felt true loneliness and had caught a fever that showed me what delirious was like. I wasn't sure what I was doing when the school year finally started, I had to give up a dream to reality. It was slowly slipping from me anyways, so it wasn't as painful as it would seem.

It's been 3 weeks since my graduation from high school and I'm the most lost and confused I have ever been. I'm going in circles and I'm tired of ending up in the same spot. I want to move but I don't know in what direction. I haven't decided what sort of person I am yet, maybe you know and could tell me.

This is my evaluation.

I'm a prisoner of war for nothing.

There's whole generations fighting out there. For success? For love? For life?
People have always said I'd never make it. I'm not meant for greatness, I'm not destined to become one of them. Guess you ought to get your armor before we clash.

Strange how when we're finally facing each other on that battlefield, neither of us can remember what we're fighting for.
I think I'll put down my sword and drop my shield.

In reality, we're just a couple of kids trying to stay alive.
In dreams, we are alive.