The Truth About Winning

"What's with you? Always with that blank stare and vacant smile," said David. 

Ro looked down from the sky, her smile unwashed by the snarky remark. "I'm just reacting to what I see."

"You're not seeing. You're dreaming." David laughed. 

"Aren't dreams good? Dreams are ideals. The best of the best." 

David smirked. "No. I always thought dreamers are losers, y'know? They don't fight for what they want. I mean, I would rather step out of the house, run for the things that matter most." 

"And what are those?" Ro asked, interested. 

"I don't know," David mumbled. "Prolly that girl I've known since kindie. Or that $1000 grand piano. Or my dream job." 

"Your dream job?" Ro giggled. "Then what differs between you and I?" 

"I strive for what I want. You just sit there and dream." 

Ro smiled again. So that's where we differ, she thought. My dreams are enough for me.

cure-iosity

I was staring blankly to the sky.

Until he chimed in.

"Apa yang sedang dalam fikiran awak?"

I turned my stare towards him. It's weird 'cause he never asked such question. It was me who asked him, all this while. 

And then I remembered. I used to ask him that whenever I saw him lost in thought. I was curious, I was wondering; heck, I was hoping my name was in that little fragment of his thinking. Even more, I was looking at the sweetest thing in the world, wanting to share his dreams.

And that's when I knew what to answer.

Idiocy

This silly heart will always root for the same guy.

Raindrops: The End

The cat died yesterday afternoon.

After struggling for days, I've managed to not shed a single tear when I carried his dead body to his grave. There was a large gaping hole where his right cheek should have been. I was quite relieved when he finally died, because no creature ever should survive with such pain, unattended.

Talk about crying, I've had my fair share of crying just a day before he left. I took some time to stroke him, whispered I love him. And he purred despite how weak he had become -- he could not even stand up by then. I wonder if his purring was effortless. I sure hope it was. I would hate it if he wasted whatever energy he had left just to show he loved us.

Damn. Now I'm crying again. Haha.

Have a safe trip to Heaven, sweetheart.

Raindrops

I actually don't want to write about this, because I'm such a weakling. Writing this will only bring me to tears. But I need to. I need to straighten out everything that's been cluttering inside my head. I need to because I need closure.

So a few days ago, I found out my sweetheart was injured, rather badly, on his right cheek. There was a big gash just under his mouth; you could see the red flesh and the pink jaw as clear as day. Fuck. The moment I saw it, I felt so enraged I felt like throwing things around the house. I was so heartbroken.

[inhale, exhale]

I already cried for ten minutes when I told someone about him. Most of the time, I just didn't want to acknowledge anything. Since then, the only thing I managed to do, without crying, is to care for him. I bathe him every day. He scratched my arm, but I don't care. His wound smells bad it attracts flies, but I don't care. He can no longer eat as much, but I don't care I still pour food for him.

He's such a stubborn little fella, too. He knows he's sick, but he still struggles to munch at least one or two pieces of the cereal I pour for him -- if I am there to see him through it. He still runs to me, with all his heart, whenever I call him. He refuses to believe his injury is a bad one, because he still is the same ol' playful kitty.

I don't know how much longer he can pull through. There's a part of me that believes he can make it, but another part just wants to succumb to the fact that he's dying. I don't know. I'm not strong enough to even think about it. If this ends, I just want him to be happy. And I'll do whatever I can to ensure that.