The cold breeze blew right at me as I was walking on the pavement of the train station, messing up my unkempt hazel brown hair. It was excruciatingly painful. I felt as if a thousand if not a million of needle like ice fragments pierced through my chest. I pulled up the zipper of my red and black checkered Converse jacket to warm myself. I brought my palms up to my face and blew hard at them before rubbing them at my cheeks. I was exhausted; I had just attended the most woefully beautiful wedding reception. Yours, that is. It’s ironic, how I was the first one to receive an invitation. At first, I tried convincing myself that it was some kind of sick joke that you were merely trying to pull my leg. However, no matter what I did or said to pacify myself, the truth remained the same. You were getting married and I’m not the groom-to-be.
To be honest, I was in two minds, fidgeting whether or not I should show up at your wedding. Part of me felt somewhat obliged to show my pathetic face to you. Simply because it was only natural for the ‘best friend’ to be there to cheer you on as your daddy handed you in the hands of the man who’s going to share his last name with you. On the other hand, as the guy who thought he was your lover whom in reality was a victim of unrequited love, I might actually clench my fist real hard and punch your “hubby’s” face with utmost pressure the moment he uttered the word ‘I do’. In the end, I came to a conclusion. I would come, drop my gift and disappear.
Here, I am now pulling off my Houdini like act. I had already bought a train ticket to get out of this place. Where to? That remains a mystery. I was running away….from you, from reality and hopefully from this pain. All I wanted to do now was to get onto the train into my reserved compartment and get a good forty winks. Upon reaching my $299 ‘box’, I stuffed my Nike backpack into the allocated space. Before, I sat down; I reached for my IPod in my jeans pocket, popped the earphones in my ears and hit the next button till it reached ‘August Serenade’. Somehow, I had a yearning to listen to it, probably because it me in my current situation. The song was about what would happen if you were gone….but you really were. I reduced the volume and closed my eyes, trying to get some sleep.
Just as I was about to drift into my not so illusory dreams, the loud slamming of the compartment door woke me up. Even so, I pretended to be fast asleep. I was reluctant to engage in any sort of ice-breaking conversations. Despite my futile attempt to stay quiet, I yelped out in pain as someone stepped on my right foot. I was purple with rage now. I jumped to my feet and reached for the culprits’ collar. However, instead of giving brat a piece of my mind with some verbal lashing, I released my forceful clutch.
It was you, in blue jeans and a white tank top. You were panting heavily, shivering and your hair was all messed up. “What are you doing here?!” I asked confused. You just gave me a smile and sunk your face in my chest.