It is scorching hot but I am freezing cold. I feel excruciating but I manage to hurriedly run as fast as I
can to the nearest restroom. In a spur of the moment, I find myself inside my
chosen “escapade“ room locking the door knob gently. I want to be sure that no one could see me as
I begin to unravel the weaker side of me. I want nothing but silence and right
now, this place is the only haven that could offer me that.
There is
no water dripping in the sink but when I look down, I see a little spot in my
pink blouse that’s getting darker. Slowly, I raise my head and look at the
clear large mirror in front of me only to see a girl crying. She appears dreadful
whenever I see her in that state-watery eyes, shaking hands with lost composure
and grimace all over her face. She seems to be ruined and fragile more than
anything.
Here we go again. That girl is crying alone again like she used
to. She looks as weak as me, as pretentious as me. Well, she is me and in turn, I am her.
With shivering hands, I wipe the tears rolling
down her cheeks. I feel a stab in my chest whenever a tear hit her face. I feel
empathy, melancholy but most of all, hatred knowing of how weak she is. I
disgust her for always sacrificing her happiness and not voicing out her true
feelings. I loathe her for being a coward, a voiceless individual and a
poker-faced person. Oh how I want to slap her face to wake her up but I opt not
to for she is already hurting. And the fact that she is shattering into pieces
is breaking me into pieces, as well.
I eye her
as she softly strokes her fingers in her ruined hair. I stare at her as she
washes her face with soap and water. But you can still tell, she just cried.
Her cold eyes say it all. As I look into her frigid eyes through the mirror, I
feel absorbed by an unexplained force. And in a snap of a finger, I see the
things just happened awhile ago like flashbacks but not of memories but of
nightmares. I let her eyes fathom me and tell me the story that struck her
heart one more time.
Pause...Backward.. Play.. Yes, here we go again.
We were
eating a sumptuous dinner when suddenly, the topic of who will finally join the
contest (I want to stay unnamed) popped out. Those who haven’t joined the
Philippine Science Olympiad will surely join it, making me out of the option
for them. I insisted that I wanted to but they told me I already joined PSO. I
uttered no word. Silence was my answer but after a second, I nod as a sign of
defeat. If it only takes just one truth to let me down, at that moment it was
that truth that it was my cowardice that made my dream to join that contest
fade away.
I
have pride. If they don’t want me then don’t. I don’t insist myself to someone
who wants to be better off without me. But I knew wrong for I have never
thought that this was not actually about pride. This was about my chance-my
last chance in my whole life- to join that contest. This was about me and that
contest. I was dumb for not realizing it earlier. I lost that chance. I failed again.
The next morning,
the contest was held. In the afternoon,
the awarding ceremonies came into order. My heart was beating fast. My hands
were shivering. I know what to expect about the PSO- that we will not win. It
did happen but it’s not what my shivering hands are for. It’s for the
I-had-never-joined-this-never-like-ever contest.
The
problem is that I knew that they had a greater chance of winning. It may not
seem like a major problem but for me, it is. I was in a state of confusion. My
mind is battling on whether I should think of the school’s glory or my heart’s
emotions. I don’t know what to think anymore and I knew even I do, the final
laugh is still on fate. No matter how determined I am to pick the second less
hurtful way of dealing with the situation, the decision is not on my hands. I
was hopeless from the very start, wasn’t I?
“And the
results for the *insert name* contest are the following..” As a few names of school were called, my
heart raced faster.
“The
second place is…” Not again. My school was not yet called. Just wow. I never
thought their chance of this winning is great which makes the pain even
greater. They won’t lose, I knew that. I
hold onto myself for the final blow. Incoming pain of intensity of 100000000000
in 3…2…1…
“And the
first place for this year’s *name of
contest* is…” The announcement came just in time with my countdown. Subconsciously,
each word became bizarre for me. As if like a way of adaptation, I heard the
EMCEE spoke in Greek language. My brain processed again the information
received from the sensory nerves of my ears.
Putting an end to my self-denial, my brain finally realized the big
news. THEY WON. AS. CHAMPIONS. Just
great. NOT.
I gazed at
them while they went up the stage. I knew they would make it. They would get
the shining shimmering glittering golden Philippine Society of Youth Science
Clubbers (PSYSC) medals which are hanging on their neck right now. They were very proud of it.
With
shaking hands, I clapped softly pretending to be happy. I am always good at
self-deception because pretence happens to be my middle name. I smiled
awkwardly just to let them know that I am proud. Really, I am proud. But that
was a half-lie for I am partly proud, partly- jealous. I could have been more
proud if I don’t have this pang of jealousy right here in my heart. Well, who
would not be envious to them when you have always dreamed of joining that
contest but you can’t always join? Tell you what, for the second time I failed
to join that contest.
While I
stared at them while they were busy taking pictures of themselves, I cried a
cry of defeat. I cried of pain and of loss. I cried not of tears but unspoken
words. I cried loudly and roaring. I cried deep inside but with still that
poker face I am known to have.
Pause.. Forward.. Play.. Finally, Here We Go Again
Looking
back at the mirror, I saw her lips curving. She was trying to smile. Yet she
failed.
That girl, oh how she wants to be the wanted,
the needed. She wants to be important, to have value in the eyes of others. She
wants to be the source of admiration and of beauty. She wants people to search
for her and not the other way around. She wants to be like the sun that without
her, the galaxy is not on its constant balance. She wants people to need her
light that will make them live. She wants people to want her to light their
paths. She wants to be just like the sun- beautiful, enormous and needed. She
wants to and soon enough, she will.
With her
continuous losses, she can’t afford to see herself fall down again. She will
rise again and like the sun, she will shine dazzlingly up high. By
that time, whenever she speaks of here-we-go-again’s, she
speaks of sweet beautiful flashbacks of success and not nightmares of failures.
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