The piece that started it all...
I just can’t help but stare at it.
Not that I have nothing else to do but I just love staring at this picture. There’s nothing special about it, really. Nothing even colorful nor attractive about it. But I look at it like it is the most colorful portrait I have ever seen.
It is just a black and white portrait of a young couple about to share a very intimate moment together. The achromatic portrait spoke a thousand colors before my very eyes. The couple are caught up in a tight, seductive embrace and about to lock themselves in a passionate kiss. The guy’s hands lovingly and delicately cup the girl’s head, her tendrils of hair entwining on his fingers and fleeting on his cheek. His eyes, they are the sweetest thing to look at in the picture. They are tender, yet heavy-lidded with love and passion, especially intended for his beloved. The girl’s eyes mirror the guy’s emotion. She looks assured and secure with the guy intimately near her.
Unearthing these emotions from the couple, I feel like an intruder to their intimate moment together. I should not be looking and observing them that way. But I can’t help it. I feel warm all over. I feel a tingle in my spine and on my skin. I know I looked flushed, I can feel my cheek turn warm and pink. And my eyes, they look like…they feel like…
Her eyes.
I suddenly feel his hands caressing my cheek, his warm body against mine, the intensity of his love and passion. I see..
See what? See who?
I feel my eyes widen with realization. I am not familiar with these emotions. There is no one to share this intimate moment with. The warm, tingling feeling burn me. My pink, flushed cheeks bewilder me. My smoldering eyes scare me. I haven’t been like this before. Strange. Perhaps because I hear my friends talk about this often. They usually say to me that falling in love and to be loved in return is one of the greatest things in life. Having someone to cuddle and cling on to is ideal.
I see them smile and sigh dreamily. I see their eyes sparkle with delight. I even see them exchange moony-eyed gazes with their special someone. They seem to float while walking. They seem to stare at nothing when they are alone. They seem to live life like it is colorful and way beyond routines and habits.
But not me. I don’t see what makes their lives colorful and why having someone to love makes their lives colorful and worth cherishing. I don’t get the point of their being that way. For me, life is nothing without routine. Habits lead our lives. Spontaneity is not my cup of tea. Life is a two-way process and incorporating other emotions from it could ruin it. Everything is just black and white for me.
I look again at the picture. I feel those funny emotions again. But this time, I am no longer scared by it. In fact, it feels good. I am beginning to like this warm feeling hovering all over me while looking at this couple!
Is this what they could possibly feel for each other should they be alive and real like me? Would it be more intense if the girl was me? Would I give in and savor the feeling if the girl was me?
I sigh. I am motionless. My eyes are no longer blinking. I am staring through the picture. But I just plainly stare at them and relish this newfound sensation. The warmth of his hand against my cheek, the pounding of his heart against my hand, the intensity of his stare…everything, not minding the inner voice mocking inside me.
But she is not you! They are unreal!
I know. I am aware of that. I know that they are not real. I know that there’s no such thing as what these two people share. My friends are just disillusioned with love that’s why they feel that way. I know not of the thing they call love—especially the love they are talking about. Who would learn to love at a time like this? When all that people could think of are lust and greed?
But I am still infront of the picture. I do not crumple it, or tear it to pieces. Instead, I leave it where it was the whole time, lying around my desk.
And I continue to stare at it anyway.
[*Lilinaon vol. 3 # 1]
28 May 2007
08 May 2007
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)