White Lies-Muted Pain Pt.1

07-22-2009 Wednesday

12:20am

One of the hardest thing I have to endure in the kind of job I have is that no matter how fucked up or broken I feel inside, I still have to act as if I'm completely fine, worse, I have to sound so lively over the phone when all I wanna do is sit alone, hug my knee so I can rest my chin on it and just bawl. This is one of those days when I wear this translucent mask over my face here at work, not because I want to, but because I have to.

In spite of being here, physically at work, taking everlasting calls, my mind is completely elsewhere. What happened yesterday and the day before kept on repeating inside my head, God, the thoughts are so vivid I could've sworn it's like watching a movie in front of the big screen. I don't know how I'll start to explain everything because honestly, I'm still consumed with those thoughts I can't put into words. Oh Jeez, I need to at least try, maybe it'll lessen the weight of these things on my chest.

OK..

Monday:07-20

'He should be here by now..' I thought to myself as I stood in front of 7-11 in Zabarte where I'm supposed to meet Alex. I kept on checking my cellphone. No message. I reviewed the message he sent earlier, he said he's already in Sauyo when it started to rain hard so he has to stop for awhile. It's no longer raining and Sauyo is like 10 minutes away with a motorcycle so I was wondering what's keeping him.

I looked around me, trying to ignore the group of street kids that huddle on the corner, busy with God-knows-what. I'm not usually cautious nor bothered with dirty little kids high on cheap drugs but the way these street kids look at me made me feel uneasy. I was just wondering if they're considering to rob me or what but I'm not scared at all, thanks to the Police car parked just across the street. Where the hell are the parents of these kids anyway? Fuck, I don't really care, what I care about is where the hell is my boyfriend because I'm running late for work.

8:15.Shit. My shift starts at 9. I'm already sweating inside my favorite pink shirt. I'm also starting to get pissed. 8:25. I'm on the verge of crying. What if something happened to him? It's dark, it rained, the roads are slippery, the motorcycle..Oh God please not that. Don't let that happen. What's gonna happen to me if he's gone? The thought of it alone was so heartbreaking that I started to feel tears welling up in the corners of my eyes.

I started to pace around, thinking if I should just go to work but what will I do with this heavy helmet wrapped in my jacket? I thought of calling work to say I can't make it today then go home but if I do that, I'll never find out what happened to Alex. If I stay here and wait for him, what now?

The answer finally came. The moment I saw him pulled up beside the street, I ran up to him, climbed behind him on the motorcycle and cried. He looked alarmed, he kept on asking me why but I didn't answer his question. 'I'm done, take me home I want to go home, and leave that motorcycle.' I said, still crying out loud. 'No you're going to work.' was all he said and we sped away. Away from the 7-11 store and away from the grubby looking street kids whom I believe that their future has ended even before it even begin.



2:15 am

One call after the other. The peak hours of my shift has arrived and with these Americans nagging, whining, complaining and all those childish things you can think of just to get what they want from their wireless carrier, it'll be hard for me to concentrate on what I'm writing so I better save the rest of my story for tomorrows post.

Goodbye blog.
Hello Hello Sprint world. [You can click the hyperlink so you can see the web page I usually view when I'm at work.]

Labels: alex, americans, motorcycle, pink crimson, sprint, work

posted by Monica-Lynne @ 5:27 AM