Till the end

Even when all is lost, please hang on, Benevolent one. Oh to be you, forgotten long ago, marked as someone who was never much besides the quiet one who stays in the shade. All has taken a break now, for today, no hands will reach out to you.

Now we all live in the pit, at the mercy of how things end up. Stay safe, for safety is the one thing we must all look after now. Oh is she really safe? How will she be safe when her thoughts have lost interest? How will she be safe when she was once with people, yet now alone? But she loves home, and maybe home will learn to love her more…

Desperation to find it again, to find the drive and motivation after hearing things. Telling yourself that you can't help it, you can't help but be hopeless. When you wake up the next day and the next and it's still the same thing you see.

Wondering why you can't give your trust to people, not even the people you knew. So long as how long you waited, sitting in bed and contemplating, worried. Worried about how things will go from here, that maybe you might lose people to this disaster.

Will you embrace this part of you? The part you wish the world would never see, the part that feels alone at night even when it's with people. The part that feels whole when it's alone., dazed by the mesmerizing. It feels suffocating, where time changes, yet things still feel relevant.

They feel the same yet distant again. You'd think being at home for months now would feel like a dream. Plagued by the very thing that could linger outside your door at any moment, but it really was a plague. That as lovely as the day is, you can't go out and breathe the same way. But you walk the road anyway, reminiscing the days, even if the realistic approach to living was to make sure you were okay, and you were.

Straight up ahead, someone was waiting for you, and he came back asking if you wanna play. For once, a hand that reached out to you didn't duck out at the last minute. Bright, it was bright seeing the daylight again. The days of missing out on everything, but you're okay. Asking you the same things we used to say like nothing ever happened.

"Would you like to play a game? It'll be fun, we have the eye of all-seeing, the boy from the skies and so the numb one, come!"

"I am glad to see you again.." That was the only word I could say. Outside of being nervous, shakey, and full of anxiety knowing how long it's been.

Rain falls, back to its minimal level, back to the level manageable for you. Just enough to trickle at the edges of your umbrella, yet never flooding above the heels of your shoe. It still splashed around but it's the fun of it all, sometimes staying up late again.

Listening to music, it was a simplistic form of enjoyment. Beginning worlds, letting the imagination take over in the meantime. Oh, how unlikely it was that you'd begin to speak with your heart. No longer as silent as before, shrinking the gap between your thoughts and your words.

Floating out of chaos' reach. For every conversation, a little part of me marveled. The once quietly daunting woman was soft-spoken, well mannered. Another layer of you and your charming personality. Desired the silence, the feeling of being alone because it was peaceful.

The inner beauty you possessed, of how lucky it came naturally to witness the moment. Such a rich character, a personality full of ideas that put literacy first, having belief unmatched. Being different from everyone, nonsense questions, and seeing how your viewpoint felt like looking into the lens of a microscope.

Oh such tiny details, tiny tiny details that make up quite the person. Putting up a fight against the idiosyncrasies of man. Profound as it was, being equally sentimental. That 3 years ago, I could only dream, I could only dream of this moment. Yet again I was interested in you, but I know the platonic sense it had.

Would never let it be, it would break us per se. Knowing how my interest for you, was only born from the regret of bygone days. But it was unexpected, that seemingly the summer was longer, as it was hard to go out, we built the world at our fingertips. Making a community over what came before., scarce people yet we hang on to it.

Like a lantern that swung, but swung it did, never falling. Carrying the weight of people that relied on it for good circumstances. But tell me why, tell me why you're the same, that you break all means of changing, only improving. Only when things become a lost game, do you move out of your comfort zone.

Has it given you enough moments over the years? Now that you have settled, you never need to let go when we're no longer in need of umbrellas. Reaching the roof this time, but then it's sunny out and we go back to the field. Running around in circles, we play only in virtual leaves.

Convincingly caring about the things you say just because it came from you, understanding the faith of what others feel but you still shrug it off. Sometimes you wake up to find that all the things born about your childhood, begin to make less and less sense. That speaking has come a long way from being misleading to comforting.

Plans knowing you must think about the future now, that you can't spend days anymore just enjoying them yet here we are wasting them away. They say it's not a waste if you enjoy what you do, but how can it not be? Ah, Nobody cares, we'll be missed by the ones who love us, so continue.

The summer still finds its way to end, garnering you the nickname that lasted. And everyone who heard it laughed. Becoming one of the many new forms of entertainment we ended up finding. Oh for once it felt right, that it felt right to not think about the endless drama and instead laugh at it.

Laugh at how innocuous it was, that trauma became the backbone of our humor. And connections are what broke the camel's back. Hearing the news that school would still prevail, was different this time. Different in a way we won't see the physical form, these laptops we got used to playing with, are now a tool for our education.

For once, staying at home no longer felt like solitude. Quarantine, and irresistible routines, worried about the things that are missing. For a while it's fun. and you live like that, the conversations stop. However times go, patiently still listening to you, our gaming eventually enters a halt and all things grow distant again.

For what can you blame the innocent mind for thinking it's the end again? But nothing will change, nothing can ever change this, not now at a time things have gone north exclusively. So I forget, I return to the people I left long ago, to discover they've been there all along. It's weird, it's weird returning to that god-forsaken place, with you no longer around. Forgetting about how we played, and so it began to grow distant.

But painless, a painless gap, where the bottom of the pit was no longer found, where our explorations had led us to places we never thought we would find. Changes, changes of frequencies between your voice and ours, so long.

False alarm.

Foolish, it was foolish to think that was the last. A mistake at least, an assumption to get ahead of one's self. Sorry, but things don't get away like that so easily, seeing how it did, how you never forgot. Even if the summer is over, it still feels like it goes on. Likely a product of never leaving the house, exploring indoors, trying to create meaning from the little eye sores.

Adjusting to what we all call the new normal, you feel nice about it, seemingly like it was a time to rest. The few welcome changes in your life, wherein travel wasn't part of the equation. Staying in the confines of your own home as you entered browsers trying to see where the next class will be, listening, bored?

Yeah, you can't help but try to stay awake, fatigued by staring blankly at radiant light. We invited you again, and to our surprise, we instantly got the agreement hearing "I thought you guys were gone". Sunk deep within, but aside stemmed permanence. Things reversed, when you invited us instead, oh how the turn-tables.

Rewinding to that moment, it almost seemed meant to happen, why wouldn't it be when you've been manifesting it for years? Learning that you found people, one's that you held permanently, or at least at that point in time it was. A niche place, it felt like going into the ethereal garden with how fantastical its aura was, a feeling I had never felt before.

The invitation of friendship, oh how lacking it was, but now it's here. As if everything they say was true, yet this trust wasn't dependent on circumstance, this is something you did alone…. Leading you there, with her and her, and her and him and him. All of them, counting from a-top the list of people, knowing you knew them to equal lengths. They're the people you let in, and now we're here too. Him and him, him and him and her.

The same people you took with you to run with. ALL OF THEM! How does it feel abducting them, bringing them with you on your journey? That this time you sail with your ship, sure it wasn't your sea but it might as well be. But why the name? Such a weird name, like a recreational activity for men…

"Manscaping", do you not ask yourself and wonder who came up with such a name?

Such a conclusive, recluse of a name that means maintaining hygiene for men's purposes A name for an entire group of people who were just barely okay, a fitting name for sure labeling so many fools that borderline feel all hope is lost. But when news is filled with tumultuous things, you can't help but develop a level of concern for how things are.

Panic, widespread panic, to all of us that know a cure does not exist. Such an unlikely time to be at peak happiness really, out of all the setting stones in time, you're happiest was during a pandemic's notice. That may be, for the first of many among the paragraphs that bear witness to your time here, that for a short while, it was happy. Where worry became minimal, and the thoughts were all at bay.

For every step you took, it made more sense that the rain completely stopped. Jumping with joy, sound asleep for the first of many nights. Watching movies in the dark, studying with a group that always saw you for who you were. Goofy as it was, it was living. Maybe smiles were made to go with you, fitting you much better on the days you sat quietly frowning. Snuck out of the room, just to continue the times you hang out with them.

Oh, so many times you woke up to class just to sleep again., mumbling all those little words you say during the times you could barely open your eyes. Cold mornings, sure, but you'll get used to it. It's weird, isn't it?

That you no longer wake up and directly go to the bath, that breakfast can be eaten during class, that everything can be done behind that monitor. Always shunning the desire of going out again, complaining about how you can learn better when you were there, sitting in class.

Sometimes forgetting about class entirely, we'd play around, asking those friends of ours to come along. It's surreal right? When was the last time you heard that much laughter with you in the middle? Inevitably elongating the days, just speaking broadly, that sometimes the silence was comforting knowing you didn't sit there alone.

Breathing and reading old messages, releasing the stress built up by constantly needing to navigate a website you now consider the class. Activities, fresh of understanding, all that needed to be done was to ask for answers. Exchanging insults, small little offensive words, and feeling passive-aggressive over the thought of losing pride.

Where'd you'd watch and think to yourself, "I hope this lasts"? How did it feel, for once not having that doubt? Or so how enjoyable was it, petting dinosaurs on a video game when you should be taking notes, how does it feel to skip the lectures just to have more time to play? Helping us build that digital world of ours, where dreams were limitless.

Everything was possible, to die and return, to make the rain fall on demand, just watch the scenery of digital creation, and listen to the sounds of leaves, oh they rustled. Could it match the real world, well, it would. How impressive was it, that you can make your dream house in a dream place that no one else can replace?

Slandering those teachers that wouldn't be up to par with your attendance, yet still placing block for block in that digital world while pretending to listen. Oh, how did it feel? being on those calls with him. He was the rational one after all, it's nice to see how happy it made you both. Like a comfort zone for you, conversations that brewed from common interests, that hobby after hobby, you shared with him. Don't you see?

It's how interest feels. Look closer, it's your interest. Isn't it obvious that you like him? Come on, don't worry, it'll be fine, nothing will change after you both finally express yourself. As awkward as things get, you'll be fine, Benevolent one. It's always hard to admit you like somebody, whether that's someone you see every day or an acquaintance you can't get out of your mind, it feels like butterflies now.

Butterflies, finally taking flight after the rain. As if the cocoons bloomed when the moisture was at perfect levels. Who knows, maybe, maybe he likes you too. As we played and spoke about it, we spoke about how things might go along, that finally you'll get a taste of what people call romance. It is such a fantasy, back when you and you were younger, we'd see them as nothing more than puppy love now.

Vaguely do I remember, smiling at the thought of you two. Evenings spent just listening to both of you speak, minding my own business. The compatibility you two had, checks out, helping each other reach the end of the notes just so a shot to exceed passing scores, results in sore minds.

Don't let it get to your head, the more we think, the more we doubt the consequences. And by then, it would be nothing more than an afterthought. Yet maybe it's worth doubting sometimes…

Was it conflicting, settling for the feelings you had? Yet you couldn't dig your nails in to keep them. That finding someone unsure of you, yet showing them your support, felt lonely? Yet you persisted and insisted you knew what you were doing, that you stopped to think whether you should and resent those thoughts by doing it anyway.

A night to realize you confessed, only stargazed by messages sent in blue. To see, and hear about it. This was the same person that couldn't utter a word years back. Only being able to do it in secret, uncertain of whether what you felt is just infatuation.

Adoration may just so end in rejection, but do you fear rejection more than the thought of things never being the same again? Yet he returned the feelings, he returned, with what intent? With what motivation was it to take in something so heavy in such a short period? Yet I told you, I told you about it. I told you that he liked you too.

As to why he never told you, I'll never know. Demolishing the timing he had planned for my own. To see you contemplate, to see it all in the grand scheme of things. I know, know what I said.

Maybe he "likes" you too, yet you cling to that thought. Brushing it off the side of your black hair. Awoken one afternoon, to the noise of someone asking if it was okay in that sacred digital world. Fantasizing how it felt to like him, to be with him, to share your thoughts.

How sure can you be? That from here, you are eligible for the things he ends up feeling. You are not ready, you were never ready, and no one is ever ready to take in a relationship. That observation from what others have found before, will not save you.

Benevolent one, please think it through! That when all else fails, it never goes back. Look, how will you make him happy if you fail to do it for yourself? That you still see yourself as temporary? So what if he rethinks everything, what if you rethink everything? What if you become the cause of the collapse? That these questions may never get answered!

There's no returning from this point onwards...

Yet you won and answered through. It was okay, you talk to him for quite a while and get to know more of his interests and plans. Somedays spending the afternoon daydreaming about what moments are ahead. Were they delusions, projections of how your mind was coping with the newfound responsibility?

Dreams and dreams of him, you have a soulmate now, who would've thought? That most music you listen to is now tied to that graceful moment, that every day you look forward to every conversation that transpires, wasn't it the very thing you always wanted to feel? To never be taken for granted, being able to lean on someone.

You never really felt like that most of the time didn't you? That usually it was the same bleak empty feeling, as a void had formed inside your body. Anxiety, it's always beside you, and even if you can laugh with your friends, the worry is still there.

Your soul is brittle, yet still mendable. Nevertheless, you're still happy. I yet again awoke, somewhere in the evening, where hours are tender and I feel as if sleep is the first thing I wanna get done before the morning.

"Please come, she needs help, she's crying right now for some reason. You're the only one who knows these things!" clueless, simply clueless, that barely a week has passed, and yet here you lay down crying.

More alone, surrounded by people. Very little could describe how transit it felt, sure it was rocky before anything even began. A week, seven days, seven days were all it took for such an event to happen. It's hard, it's hard to break to people the reality of some things, it's burdensome.

The rain pours, just the two of you, under the cumulonimbus clouds. Hoping to get a taste of what comfort feels like in a wavy friendship, could you call it that anymore? Relationship, but he looks with good intentions, yet you sob here. Because you love him…

You do, and whether we don't like to admit it, we get hurt. That ignorance of what it might cause is the reason we still love people even if we're hurt. It's not a game, it's not just a feeling, it's a commitment to that person.

And things went well anyways, they did. As much as you say it's fine, that it's fine to spend the days crying over something he did, or something you did for him. Don't lose sight of it, Benevolent one. Love is a trap, full of labyrinths…

It still kept on, sometimes hearing him cry about things. Nonsensical late-night conversations, advice, and things that can make sure you both. That we'd speak about how hard it was to form conversations, that he found misunderstandings on what you believed. That he'd blame himself because of how you acted and what you became.

That you were confused, that he loved you, he loved you so much that it hurts him to see those things you say to yourself. Yet what? He doesn't console it, yet breeds sadness towards it, things that you otherwise saw normal become irregular. You hurt him, did you?

You hurt him good when you said you were temporary, how many times do you beat yourself up because of it? Things were already looking good, things were already turning for the better and now there's distance. How provocative, talking for hours while doing something yet the next minute being unable to utter a single word.

That silence filled the air when only the two of you remained. More often than not, the whole crowd goes silent whenever you share the air. It's dead! It's dead! and all it took was the mistake of answering someone-

No, you were doing well. Some days passed and nothing happened, yet you still played with him. Sometimes there's a distance between you and his presence that feels wider than anything you've ever done But all is well right? It's all well, it can't be changed like this.

Not when you've gone so far to be happy again, when's the last time you felt the same? 2 months ago? A year? A decade of being in this world yet still questioning why things had to go the way they did? Unmatched was the smile you had being young, where nothing much mattered.

Sure it was still battered with traumatic outcomes, but it was fine, you never had someone to hold on to those days. And now you do, so don't waste it. Don't waste the opportunity, you'll both feel appreciated, yet no! Speaking like you were never friends, always lovers. Maybe it was better that way, than if it never happened.

See?! Look in the damn mirror, and If you're still free! Free from the thoughts you call responsibility! I followed in your footsteps, to express how I felt. And seeing this, it makes me question it. Why did I do it, I know it wouldn't end like this for me.

How does it feel? Being a shell of your former self because of being human. All you wanted to do was tell him that. Yet weekly called to console him, that he'd cry in someone else's presence because he knows you'd feel bad. That you could never tell him how much agony was above you, piling up on your mind was a stack of cards, cards that determined whether you would last.

Pick a card, you pick one and it goes on for the next week. He picks a card, yet the wrong card. The card that makes you endlessly feel hopeless in the presence of someone, is because he never really liked you. That he liked you all because you liked him. How does that feel? Lying in a bed of needles, lying, lying to yourself about how much more you can take just so he doesn't whine and cry again.

A loop, as if you went back to the hole you dug for yourself and tried to climb out of it. But every time, the dirt just slides, the ground just falls. Rocks hit, and your hands are calloused and tired. But you can't turn it back, life is not a crank, it just goes forwards. So how, how will you restore everything when it's stuck the way it is?

It's flooding, storming again, yet the downpour is windy, tearing the electric posts down. That your umbrella that you so worked hard to hold and keep sane, is now bent, inside out. Unable to keep you dry, unable to hold your own. Yet he was still there, just in the shade. With everyone else, you saw them as friends. With your thoughts, on full display yet aspirations feel crooked and twisted.

But that's okay, isn't it? It's sweet, affectionately craving your time, out of place, and misguided by the severity. You always picked the right card, but it's been months yet it still happens. Held tight, not even the strongest of manhandlers can pry your hands open from it.

That in his eyes, held a future that didn't have you in it. Were you part of the equation, or just part of the journey to his lesson? That he, himself, was the lesson. Who will dry your tears when things go south? You deserve better than this, he deserves better than this.

A few more months pass and the moments get farther and farther apart. That the timeline had run away to safety, abandoning what was left of the situation. With no warnings, it was fading away. The same seat someone had occupied in your life, is now vacant. You decide to end up for good, to save yourself from the mess.

To go back to clarity, countless days it took just to knock sense back into place. I understood you, but how far could my understanding go for both of you? When I split into two, to read two books, drowning in the Flood, yet unable to understand how the word love gets thrown around more than the word "Sorry", that the word love gets thrown around more than the word "Understood".

And only then the words get thrown, to replace the feeling of a moment. To replace sorrow with guilt, that it was an apology for you, yet you should feel bad about it. That being you felt bad because no one understood you. Rest easy now, the flood has drained, sure things aren't the same and happiness was colorless.

But it won't flood, not for a while, you did well. Handling it all on your own, because you knew people didn't need to see. Rest easy now, for you did your best. Bringing a boat to the once great place, seeing it seem like a graveyard of memories.

The flood remained, with all drains clogged with the debris left behind by yet again circumstances. Sailing by in a boat, you held your lantern a few meters in front of its bow. Late at night, just cruising, reminiscing about all that has gone by. It took a while to make you smile now. It took a while to hear that same laughter you always did.

Believing, believing that things had finally gone for the better. Christmas nights playing games, the festive songs we always played on a bot that just wanted to do its job. Peace at last, nothing can ever ruin this. Not after how long you came to get here. Like things have gone back to how they were.

Yet turmoil still prevails at the precipice of a friendship ending. New Year's Eve passes by, and all seem normal. The calls, the talks and conversations. It was nothing new, yet always a welcome addition. The festive vibes continue to fester in our energy. One night, I spoke to your friend. We were merely exchanging the regular things we'd say, insults, and so on.

Yet, it had felt real for her. That I'd rather speak with a wall than her. It hit, killing two birds with one stone. As if things had just gone alright, they've gone awry again. But it was nothing more than a petty fight.

Yet weeks come, and our distance grows as I spend more time with other people. Relating better, having the time of my life. But it felt wrong, knowing you weren't there. Yet we had our last conversation, at the edge of February. A night just recalling things, of your origins, of what your friends were like.

Of how things were like when times were easier. It felt nice, knowing you, you were going to remain. That even then, if all was last, you'd be there. Enchanted by the crater made by the passing of time, I tried yet again. To no avail was the friendship I had, was finally losing itself. That she had gone far, to get better plans. You never spiraled, knowing we'd all be separated the following year felt unreal. That is 4 years, just wrapped in a ball of memories. Ready to leave. Unknowingly the next time I'd see you was months after.

We met yet again, after a heinous decision to play a horror game. Like in the old days, nostalgia flooded the air, with us was my partner. And the troublemaker that had come along. Yet, from your words, it was simply the last thing we'd ever do together again. My heart had sunk, falling beneath floor after floor of fragile plywood. it had to be a joke. It had to be nothing more than a temporary feeling. Oh, benevolent one, how could losing you, when I've already gone far still feel the same?

That finally things were going for the better, permanently., even with learning our lessons from the past, we still choose to believe that things go that way. Why? But I understood anyway, never being able to shake the feeling of knowing it was the last of many things we'd do. Respectfully so, it was simply beautiful. Gratitude for you to give me a chance to even have that one last moment, thank you.

Through circumstances, we were asked to go out. See? Being indoors for the better half of the last 2 and a quarter years. I saw you again, but I was unable to speak to you. I couldn't utter a word whenever I saw you.

That practice, even when we'd spend hours in proximity to each other, we'd still ignore it. That even when we were with friends we knew so well, mutually, virtually our bond had faded. That approaching you was walking through burning charcoal.

Product of being different now, but hey look! We changed, finally. After so many years, who would've thought that nature will prove us wrong yet again? That change truly is and always will be the only constant.

Staring at you, as you went to the Korean shop, that we ate together with the community we've learned to grow with when the disaster had first struck. That despite it all, time still finds the lucky number to get the feeling in again. Sure, it was outcasted, but look. We made it through, finally moving up to the next level of what life has to offer.

Tomorrow we still have the same practice, so that you can wake up early and go back to the place again. To see the corridors you grew up with your whole high school life. Wasn't it the perfect time to end all things there? Realistically speaking, the final moments spent with you? That the archive had ended simply there. On the final day of practice, where we'd never see each other again.

Just the mere husks of what we were., that maybe time could push it a little further backward and maybe increase the days that were left. It did, in only 2 days. To see yourself projected in the theater, knowing all your sacrifices are no longer in vain. For once, a new chapter in your life will begin undisturbed by the presence of those who seek your attention. Goodbye, Benevolent one. I will always cherish those moments. always…

One lonely evening, through reminders and hellos. From asking how you've been on an occasion. To ask how your friends have been since then. Was something that rekindled all moments that have long been turned to ashes. The flood no longer exists, the society around is rebuilt.

Yet so with the playful power of circumstance, you utter these words. One foolish sentence that would rebuild everything we had lost, that would recreate the past yet different, that would finally bring peace and order back. That balance had restored itself in the form of a benevolent woman who knew what she was doing.

A woman strong enough to face reality as it is, even so wishing to end it all yet still living to make a mark on the lives of people without needing to leave. That made the worthwhile ever so inking the very letters placed upon each moment.

You were the change, falling back into place, falling back into place again. For you did, that these words would reboot all the moments we had lost. That even if apart, it lives, it plans and it states how life can change over time. And so the words you say…

"We can play again, maybe tomorrow, or the next day."

The end.