Longings for a one-way ticket

by ale

Dear friend,

as my day draws to an end, yours is just beginning. Do you wake up in your square room at the break of day and gaze outside to see purple flowers in the spindly shrubs, showered in golden rays. Do you wave or wink a smile at the early birds in the courtyard. And if so do they smile back, or blow you a flirting kiss before walking back to the dorm. Do you trace faces on your window dew, recalling the friends you met in your dreams. And if so, I hope you still remember the shape of my face, and the perpetual glumness in my eyes, and hopefully you’re wondering how I’m coping with what you left behind.

It has been a horrible past few weeks. The demons that you left, have never been more alive. We both felt the weight of this irreversible social struggle. But only you had the clarity of mind to pack your bags, and leave everything behind. Two years on and I’m still pressing, still trying to put up a fight. Against a beast whom I knew was inescapable, yet I’m gritting my teeth, asking why. Why I am here and what to do now.

I have only curled up, masked myself behind a darkness, and shaded out the light. But as I try to step out of childhood ignorance, I am at a loss without my self-built bliss. You were smarter than I thought I was and took an escape, even though you blended somewhat evenly with your cheerful smiles. They didn’t and don’t know that lips don’t sync with impulse, and you made a swift flight, leaving no trace of unhappiness.

I continue blundering about this maze, of rejection, superficiality and invisible stares. Wishing I had that same one-way ticket you clutched tightly in your hands. Wish I was with you, in the countryside, running a new race. Or even the opportunity, to sneak a peak and breathe in a new future. I’d give anything to be in your place.

As you paint your mascara and draw your brows, slip into your boots and put on your checkered coat, I hope you have not forgotten or discarded me with bad memories. But I hope that as you walk through the garden to the hall for breakfast, you will remember this unyielding soul. Say a little prayer at the back of your head, before you tuck into warm bacon and perfectly poached eggs, for this friend who is still struggling, in the virtual and physical rat race.

Don’t forget,
your friend.