POEM TWO: A DARE IN BETWEEN
(I should traverse the other path.
A different pot of gold is better than nothing. That is a lie that I kept.
I should make do with what I've been given.
Options are chances are well. That is questionable, I said to myself.
I should focus on what is going on.
Mistakes and opportunities only last a moment. That is a fact that I will soon learn.
I know but I can't. I should try but I may not.
I need to escape for now. In my realm, I am at peace.)
"Was that it? How cliché can you be, Peyg."
His friend said as she read the explanation of his poem.
It was in the heat of an afternoon. Classes were dismissed early in preparation for the clubs to set out their plans for the upcoming festival in two weeks.
Inside that room, Peyg was scolded by Lyrica, a fellow club member.
"Come on now. Peyg just needs more time. I trust that he can produce a good poetic novel at this upcoming festival. Just give him the time to finish it."
His ever-supportive best friend is always there to cheer him up. He even joined the same club as Peyg just so he can be by his side.
Peyg knows that deeply that is why he appreciates what his best friend does for him.
Lyrica let out a sigh. She closed her arms and looked at Vol.
She didn't want to continue arguing about it so she raised an eyebrow hinting at the door.
Vol also let out a sigh as he looked at Peyg.
"Wanna go eat, Peyg?"
He wanted to keep the cool between the two.
He is what you call an anchor between groups of friends.
The one who keeps the sanctuary of friendship stable.
Peyg stood up.
"I'm going to the library."
Peyg walked towards the door and opened it.
He didn't shut it close but instead left it open.
He left and went directly towards the library.
Lyrica looked at Vol with a disappointed face.
"Aren't you going with him?"
Vol responded quickly like he had the response ready.
"No, just let him be for now."
With a quick pause, he spoke again.
"I can't have you both disagreeing with each other every time. I won't be here for eternity."
Like in spite to say that he is a bit annoyed by the constant fight between the two, he blatantly said that. Although he wants the group to stay intact, he was well reminded that such words are needed to go through her.
Lyrica looked at the door and also walked out.
"I'm going out to the café myself to eat. We can continue the meeting tomorrow."
She left as she closed the door of the clubroom.
"Why the hell am I even continuing this farce play?"
Vol smiled and also walked out of the room a couple of minutes after Lyrica left.
Vol looked at the sign of the club room.
It reads: Literary Narrative Club
"This was supposed to be our haven two years ago. I guess you can't really control things as you grow up."
Vol closed the door and left.
Meanwhile, Peyg was in the library looking at his closed notebook.
He opened it and saw his messy paragraph of a poem.
Not wanting to reread it, he flipped the page to start a new one.
He closed his eyes and continued with his writing.
***
The boy went to the library, a place that he spends most of his time at.
After that discouraging scene from outside earlier, he couldn't help but run away.
After all, he was done. That was the thought that was left in his mind.
While sitting in the library, he overheard some people talking about a donut shop that was nearby.
The thought of the girl came back to his mind.
He knew how much she liked sweets, how much she liked going to café's with her friends, and how much she enjoyed those moments of bliss.
If he would tell all of this to other people, they would think he was a creep who stalks the girl that he likes.
Although he got all this information through small coincidences and repetitive actions that he notices once in a while, he would also think that he was a creep himself.
He thought that going to café's must be nice.
He only remembered it happening once but because of his nature, he refrained from going there anymore.
He lived most of his free time in the library.
He felt as if he was better off staying there than going out with some people in a random café.
Although that's what he felt, he still craved to experience more of the opposite.
He wanted to do so to get a glimpse of what she enjoyed doing.
Because of such wanting, he asked himself.
"Should I go there?"
That thought alone made him rethink if he still have a chance.
Maybe not a chance but more so of a random hope. The hope of being so close yet so far.
That kind that you cling to when you let go of the will and just pursue with nothing to lose.
"But she loves to go there."
He tends to be like this when he is thinking about her.
Nothing is for certain to be concluded from his actions. It always results in combat between his comfort and his wanting.
If there is something that he can conclude is that he continues with his actions without full conscience and control. Always struggling to think straight.
"No. Get yourself together."
Instead of diving in on the thought, for the first time, he kept himself away from the impending despair that was about to consume him.
Although that was the case, he still has the thought on the back of his mind.
Not too deep, but don't let go.
"A chance is my wild card. Something needs to change to this pathetic pattern that I've been going through."
He wrote:
-The silence in my mind is filled with crickets. The crickets annoy me but I think I cannot function well without their presence.-
And yet, after everything, he stayed.
He stayed writing in the library and kept doing so until he couldn't.
"I need to finish what I can to supplement what I did earlier."
In the end, he believed that he will never be good enough and that she won't notice him.
"But if this chance happens to work, would I take it?"
He paused and stopped writing. A drop of sweat suddenly hit his notebook as it broke the moment.
Right after that, he smiled and continued with his writing.
And as the last drops of ink from his pen faded, he finished.
The last statement ended:
-"The afternoon silence that was filled with crickets began to color his abode."-
***