When Darkness Falls

on wednesday (my Pushing Daisies night!!! i missed my pie-maker serving pies for this outing) i went out for dinner with my friend, and after that a christian movie titled 'Fireproof'. the acting wasn't that great, if you go by Hollywood standards; but its ordinariness in itself is great because i can totally see the scenes unraveling in front of my eyes on an ordinary day in my life - and it wouldn't have been any different from the movie. if so, who am i to judge that it's not as good, right?! after all, movies are merely stories retold by people who portrayed them stories the way they (the directors) pictured it.

but anyway, that's not what i wanted to say. after movie, my friend's friends, my friend, and i went for boba at Tea Station (Ten Ren's sister branch). someone made a comment about this author who wrote that - and i quote - "small groups are meant to die" (small groups are a group of people getting together typically once a week, to discuss issues related to their faith), to which the other person took it so seriously and reacted as if something foul has befallen him that he exclaimed, "how can small groups be meant to die??? if so, then what's the point of having it then???" and he repeated that 5 or 6 times, no joke. at that point, i was getting rather irritated by his unrelenting meant-to-be-rhetorical question. and don't get me started on the scowl on his face! for a split second, i had an urge to spring across the table and strangle him as my way of telling him to shut up. i felt like snapping back at him, "well we are all meant to die one day, one way or another, so then why don't you ask - what's the point of living then?!!! what are you even doing here??!!" instead, i held my tongue and entertained myself by imagining his reaction: him to have choked on his own tongue and pretend to need to use the restroom, or be sipping his hot tea so loudly he missed what i said and went "huh, what, i'm sorry?". he should be thankful i was having a terrible headache and that my feet was hurting from playing frisbee in the afternoon, because if it weren't for the distraction from the pain, i'd have spat out those words, i would. but i guess it's a good thing i didn't. or else i'd have one less friend, and perhaps potentially be blacklisted. sometimes having a sharp tongue isn't quite a blessing (though a lot of times i find myself wishing i had one hell of an astute mind that can defend myself in times of trouble).

******

the saddest tears sting the most. like how it'd sting when you rub your eyes with fingers that have tampered with the spiciest green chilies. the only consolation one has is that these tears don't come often. for me, it's when the things i fear most felt a little too real - in fact, too real for my liking. and the things i fear most would be none other than having the people i love most depart. (not leaving a country or anywhere, but depart from this world that we know of). that would include my friends and family and everyone whom i care, but the ones that i worry most as of now are my grandparents (grandmothers to be exact), because, well, naturally it'd be easiest for senility to creep up on them in their beds like a thief into a house and switch them onto their deathbeds when they're fast asleep.

but back to the green chilies a.k.a. the tear-jerkers. it could be anything that invoke those fears, those strong emotions that get to the core of you. it could be a dream so vivid that you'd wake up finding pinch marks all over you because you've wanted so bad to wake up from the nightmare, which you did - eventually, yet it felt so real it hurt to the bones. or it could be a book that you've read, so good it brought the story to life; and with a little bit of imagination it wasn't hard to envisage that happening to yourself. i once read somewhere that "with imagination comes fear". it couldn't be any truer. my imagination, when gone amok, makes me cringe and shudder, especially at the thought of me losing some of the people closest to my heart forever, and ever, and ever, to 'it' (to Death). Fear itself is more fearful than the thing that causes Fear in the first place, yet i'm sitting here crippled by it. don't understand why i feel this way, or allowing it to eat me up inside. no, scratch that. i do know why. i know perfectly well why i'm mortified for that day to come, and why i cried so much: i'm not ready to let go. i refuse to accept that all this will happen one day, and i put off that thought for as long as i can.

deep down inside, i know, that i can only put it off for so long. and i know, i should learn to fight that fear of loss, learn to let go, and accept it before it happens. else i'm gonna have a tougher time coping with it. but for now, tonight, at this moment, i choose to tuck that horrid thought away under my pillow. tonight i shall only remember the good times and the laughter i shared with them and the love they showered me through their cooking and nagging.

post-note: gosh why do i always get so emotional at this hour?! tsk tsk.