bittersweet
She looked at her watch, and picked up her pace. Time was running out. If she didn't hurry, she'd miss it.
The climb up was difficult. It was still dark, and the high hill was steep and rocky. She'd mistakenly chosen to wear slippers that morning, forgoing practicality in her haste. Every slip and slight fall she experienced gave her a little horror, but she steeled her resolve and continued her climb.
The air was cold and crisp, the sharp tinge of winter was still in the air. Flowers were blooming again; tiny buds of beauty peeking shyly out of the ground. In a few weeks this place would be absolutely stunning, she thought. But in a few weeks she wouldn't want to be there to enjoy it.
To her, there were no such thing as true beauty anymore.
She was almost there. She could see the lightening sky framing the tree-covered summit of the hill and growing slightly more excited, she walked faster.
Suddenly, she winced when she lost her balance, cutting her delicate hands in the process as she desperately tried to cushion her fall. Small pangs of pain shot through her.
Pain similar to those striking her heart, she thought airily.
Are all pain the same?
Standing up, she brushed herself off and was slightly dismayed to find out that she had smeared a little blood on her clean, white shirt. She looked at her hands. Her left hand had a cut; small, almost imperceptible, but it was there. Thick red blood was flowing furiously even with her using a tissue to apply pressure. After awhile she gave up, wrapping the tissue around her hand to discourage the bleeding.
Why persist, if you know you can't make a difference?
She was there. Here, and barely on time. The sun was rising, the brilliant streaks of yellow and orange painting the sky, setting up what she felt was a wistful, heavily romanticised scene. She usually came here when she felt her worst. She felt that with every sunrise, her mistakes and foolish naivety was slowly but surely being erased off. The beauty of the scene took her breath away, making her feel that even with every obstacles and shit she went through everyday, there were always bigger, more beautiful things. At least she thought there were.
Nothing is beautiful and true.
She pushed away plants and trodded ahead, carefully perching on her favourite spot: a small, flat rock that served as her stool. The first tentative rays of light began shining, but she still felt cold. She shivered slightly, wrapping her arms around herself and tried to ignore it. Was it from the breeze or from the bitterness in her chest, so strong that she could feel the unpleasant sensation in her mouth?
The sun was still rising, lazily making its way up to the clouds. The yellow and orange streaks spread, splashing the sky with the magnificent light. She could hear the first few notes of the singing birds, oblivious to the intruder that sat in their midst. She stared at the beautiful scene, struck with amazement and sadness. How could something be so beautiful, when everything else wasn't?
Was this beauty fake and temporary too? Like the rest of the beauty she'd known?
How is it that love and beauty were related, when love was destructive and beauty wasn't?
Why is it that love damages? Like the cut on her hand, the bleeding in her heart, the pain in her chest?
Can you ever feel beauty and be in love at the same time?
Can you ever love someone too much and not be hurt by it?
Why sadness? Why is it that everything ends with sadnesses?
Love just isn't.
She peered up at the sky, shielding her eyes from the now-blinding sunlight. She's always related sunrises and sunsets to life. There were the beautiful moments, the moments you take for granted, the moment where it was beautiful again, and the end of it all. She thought the cycle was the same: for love, for friendships, for emotions. For the pain that you go through, the fleeting joy you experience and the neverending crossroads. For the laughter, tears and heartbreak.
To her, it felt like pain was more meaningful. Happiness; no matter how happy you are, it never lasts. But pain lingers, striking the depth of your emotions that runs deep through the very core of you makes you hurt, hurt, hurt. Funny, she thought bitterly, how beautiful and lovely things were supposed to make you happy and yet can cause equal pain. When happiness and pain were equal, pain wins the day because it simply lasts longer.
Will it ever end?
The sun was fully up now, shining brightly against the cloudless sky.
She stood up.
Today was another day. New, but still so similar to yesterday.
It never ends.
The climb up was difficult. It was still dark, and the high hill was steep and rocky. She'd mistakenly chosen to wear slippers that morning, forgoing practicality in her haste. Every slip and slight fall she experienced gave her a little horror, but she steeled her resolve and continued her climb.
The air was cold and crisp, the sharp tinge of winter was still in the air. Flowers were blooming again; tiny buds of beauty peeking shyly out of the ground. In a few weeks this place would be absolutely stunning, she thought. But in a few weeks she wouldn't want to be there to enjoy it.
To her, there were no such thing as true beauty anymore.
She was almost there. She could see the lightening sky framing the tree-covered summit of the hill and growing slightly more excited, she walked faster.
Suddenly, she winced when she lost her balance, cutting her delicate hands in the process as she desperately tried to cushion her fall. Small pangs of pain shot through her.
Pain similar to those striking her heart, she thought airily.
Are all pain the same?
Standing up, she brushed herself off and was slightly dismayed to find out that she had smeared a little blood on her clean, white shirt. She looked at her hands. Her left hand had a cut; small, almost imperceptible, but it was there. Thick red blood was flowing furiously even with her using a tissue to apply pressure. After awhile she gave up, wrapping the tissue around her hand to discourage the bleeding.
Why persist, if you know you can't make a difference?
She was there. Here, and barely on time. The sun was rising, the brilliant streaks of yellow and orange painting the sky, setting up what she felt was a wistful, heavily romanticised scene. She usually came here when she felt her worst. She felt that with every sunrise, her mistakes and foolish naivety was slowly but surely being erased off. The beauty of the scene took her breath away, making her feel that even with every obstacles and shit she went through everyday, there were always bigger, more beautiful things. At least she thought there were.
Nothing is beautiful and true.
She pushed away plants and trodded ahead, carefully perching on her favourite spot: a small, flat rock that served as her stool. The first tentative rays of light began shining, but she still felt cold. She shivered slightly, wrapping her arms around herself and tried to ignore it. Was it from the breeze or from the bitterness in her chest, so strong that she could feel the unpleasant sensation in her mouth?
The sun was still rising, lazily making its way up to the clouds. The yellow and orange streaks spread, splashing the sky with the magnificent light. She could hear the first few notes of the singing birds, oblivious to the intruder that sat in their midst. She stared at the beautiful scene, struck with amazement and sadness. How could something be so beautiful, when everything else wasn't?
Was this beauty fake and temporary too? Like the rest of the beauty she'd known?
How is it that love and beauty were related, when love was destructive and beauty wasn't?
Why is it that love damages? Like the cut on her hand, the bleeding in her heart, the pain in her chest?
Can you ever feel beauty and be in love at the same time?
Can you ever love someone too much and not be hurt by it?
Why sadness? Why is it that everything ends with sadnesses?
Love just isn't.
She peered up at the sky, shielding her eyes from the now-blinding sunlight. She's always related sunrises and sunsets to life. There were the beautiful moments, the moments you take for granted, the moment where it was beautiful again, and the end of it all. She thought the cycle was the same: for love, for friendships, for emotions. For the pain that you go through, the fleeting joy you experience and the neverending crossroads. For the laughter, tears and heartbreak.
To her, it felt like pain was more meaningful. Happiness; no matter how happy you are, it never lasts. But pain lingers, striking the depth of your emotions that runs deep through the very core of you makes you hurt, hurt, hurt. Funny, she thought bitterly, how beautiful and lovely things were supposed to make you happy and yet can cause equal pain. When happiness and pain were equal, pain wins the day because it simply lasts longer.
Will it ever end?
The sun was fully up now, shining brightly against the cloudless sky.
She stood up.
Today was another day. New, but still so similar to yesterday.
It never ends.
Labels: fiction - life experience