Tags Posts tagged with "wallflower"


0 1478

Written by Wallflower

When there is a hole in a sock, your toes would crinkle to hide it in embarrassment. That’s how she felt at his sight; to her, he was tall in his splendour as he walks with his broad shoulders like a knight in shining armour. She wasn’t the damsel in distress in this story though, she was the character who never appeared, remained hidden underneath the stairs.

He entered into her life, and made a mess of it. He did nothing, he was just present, he laid his head on the table and by chance she glanced, and to her, it was the most peaceful face she had bestowed her eyes upon. There were many things she wanted in life and she gave them all up knowing there was no good in waiting. Yet, with him, she wanted him, with every fibre of her being.

Then, it started. The compulsive need to see him, to look at him from afar as if he was one of those sculptures only meant to be looked at. His name was scribbled all over her lecture notes, as her feet were anxious to run, run to places he would frequent. Suddenly, to her happiness is glancing at the door and at the very moment he entered with a bewildered face. She scavenged for every little detail she could find of him.  The name, Nicholas did not roll off her tongue so easily, yet it became like a secret she would like to keep all to herself, masquerading him with a nickname. He left her in puzzlement, a set of jigsaw puzzles that she was struggling to complete.

He was worth writing about, a character that only gave her questions, never providing any answers. A mystery she would like to spend her lifetime solving, from how many t-shirts he owned to ‘is their meeting a play of fate or was it merely timing’? Every time she turned her head, he was there standing with one of his many varsity t-shirts with his compulsory neutral expression. His mere existence fascinated her.

There is something about him, it isn’t his looks. Well, not entirely. His slacken jawline, coffee coloured skin tone, and of course those black orbs glinting with mischief. He had this air of arrogance, of wanting to be admired, the recipient of wrath of the male population. Perhaps, it was self-assuredness, knowing he deserved only the best, and simplicity does not cut it. It couldn’t be the deep rumble of his voice, or even that slight twist of his lips; a boyish grin. She became greedy, hiding away was tiring.  Yet, when she approaches, he pushes away.

Even when there’s another, one who is better and warmer than him, her thoughts and her feelings would waver like the wild grasses and drift back towards him again. Her tongue tied into a knot, at the sight of him. So, she stood farther. That slight smile he had, the one he rarely showed, the one the world had not been given the privilege to view – it made her lips lift upwards in the greyest of her days.538173

When sleep didn’t inch closer, she would lay in bed, thinking of the empty coffee cups, of filling in the blanks all those unanswered questions. She thinks of the swivelling doors, mocking as they open and close but he never appeared. She imagined how warm his fingers would feel clasped with hers as the both of them strolled along the shady gravel pathways. Perhaps, there would be a little skip and a giggle or two and smiles stretched a little too widely. Then she wondered how long she will have to endure the rain alone, with her constant disdain of the weather forecast, she would stand drenched at the train station. She thought of the days when her umbrella would fit two occupants, and their Wellington boots sloshing down the puddles. He would have a pair of blue ones, and she would wear canary yellow ones. The days when she knows her tomorrow would begin again, knowing someone would be waiting anxiously the way she always does, biting the edge of her pencil. Perhaps, she wouldn’t have to lip-sync her favourite songs. Instead she would shout it out loud without shame, both of them laughing and collapsing to the floor with tears at the corner of their eyes, clutching their stomach. Then, both of them would dance, a haphazard affair, she would step on his foot and he would wince exaggeratedly. Car rides in the middle of the night with no particular destination, only her and him and the endless road.

He’s a risk that she would like to take, and to be harmed, something that she couldn’t fight with, something that in time she would only flee from.

She wrote letters, inks bleeding on pieces of paper – her genuine feelings, words that she couldn’t muster to say to him, the ones which died at her throat. She sealed each with determination, walking up to him that one day, with an envelope in her hand.

He walked away and she stood there watching his broad shoulders fade away. She wouldn’t know if he turned to look back because she has already taken many steps away from him

She couldn’t do it, he who was always under the spotlight deserves a leading lady and she didn’t see herself as that. The letters were ripped apart with angry tears rolling down her cheeks, her time was up as he took the airplane leading him to his dreams. She could only smile at the thought of him, his smile, his boisterous laughter when he met his friends, how he would always walk around with his eyes focused on his mobile phone, how in those limited seconds she had in hand she could tell him apart from the crowd and even in the years to come, she could separate him from the rest; this was her consolation, of a story unwritten, of unsaid words.

To him, maybe she is no one, but to her, he was someone who mattered.

0 1453

Written by Wallflower

I like the morning
When the rest of the world is still sleeping
Oblivious to the sun rising
Deaf to the sound of kettle whistling
Or the smell of toast burning
It was time for pondering
Lips gently lifting
At the sound of kettle screeching.
Some mornings
The rain would be pouring
And the rest of the world would still be curling
I would be yawning
Watching the smoke from my coffee mug drifting
Laundry would still be hanging
Window panes witnessing the raindrops running.
During the morning
I wouldn’t be mourning
I wouldn’t be crying
There were no toxic musings
Or even words leaving my head aching
There is just me sitting
On a leather couch smiling
Gently sipping
My warm cup of coffee with its smoke wafting.

0 617

Written by Wallflower


Find your equal,
The one who will appear in the sequel,
Never leaving you to mull.
Find your equal,
The one who would wait at the end of the tunnel,
With a lantern standing still.
Never settle for those who are lesser than you are,
You and your sharp wit and sharper tongue,
God knows your worth is more
Than those small talks and lame jokes.


If only he knew how much he means to me,
Each passing moment I would steal a glance,
Hoping that the wind wouldn’t take him away from me,
But time ticks fast and soon I would be left alone.
Maybe that is why I am mean to him one too many times,
Void of sympathy and kindness
So it would hurt less when the time arrives
So I wouldn’t shed tears
When he leaves.
Even if I stop all the clocks from ticking,
Even if I pray a little more,
Even if I resort to begging,
He is the one that I dare not hope to be mine.


We walk aimlessly on a path few are brave enough to choose,
We watch as the lines of the past sever and deteriorate,
We met a little too late in our life
At least it seemed so for me,
Yet, the moments we share
I would treasure
And cling to until the very end of my breath.

0 790

by Wallflower

This may sound like a bunch of baloney or even incomprehensible rubbish. Well, if you’re not ready for your thoughts to be challenged and your world to be tipped upside down and inside out – go ahead and stop reading this.

You know when something happens and the likelihood for you to blame another person is high? Because it makes us feel better. Guess what, mistake happens as it is; it’s never planned. Like those careless errors you made on your exam paper, they just slipped. Let’s face it, it is a solution for a short amount of time. Slowly, you’ll wallow in your despair, and you realize it was you after all and it wasn’t them, and how ashamed would you be.

Your feelings and your thoughts are influenced by the way you perceive an event. The intensity of a heartbreak is not damaging unless you perceive it to be so. Your level of anger wouldn’t be as high as the skyscrapers, if you did not perceive it likewise. Why does the word ‘perceive’ pop out one too often on this article? Four times in this paragraph alone. Get ready for the fifth and counting, perceive or perception by definition is the ‘process of becoming aware of something through the senses.’ In a layman’s term, it’s when an event happens and you look at it either in a negative or a positive light.

I shall disclose an experience which I went through, it was a typical scene of a 21st century young adult drama. You know when you have that one person, and you thought he or she is the ‘one’ and everything was rainbow and things were going fine; you hung out often, he finishes your sentences, he laughs at your lame jokes, but well, sarcasm wasn’t really his thing yet I came to love his flaws, the funny way he pronounced my name or even the grammatical errors (when I was known as a Grammar Nazi among my friends), and I thought perhaps this is why it didn’t work out with the others before him. Our friends were happy for us, and I sat there and daydreamed, planning for adventures that we would embark on. I was indecisive on many things, I had to sleep on everything before taking any risks, but falling for him just happened and genuinely I have never been happier, even if I was, I couldn’t remember when.

prideandperceptionWell, let’s be honest, human beings never settle for less, we have something great but we always strive for more, it is something innate, it is a drive, a purpose in which without it life would be dull and pointless. Thus, I tested the waters because the uncertainty was killing me, I wanted a label because being in someone’s life without knowing your role is a discomfort. What am I? Are we dating? Are we just hanging out to cure our boredom? Those questions were my 11 pm thoughts. So, I did the unthinkable and took the plunge but in a safer, more grounded way. This is where I employed my crew of good friends to ask the guy where we stand. The answer wasn’t really music to my ears, I was friend-zoned. Rejected and dejected, I was speechless for a while. The thing about being rejected is that, especially by someone you like, is that it harms your self-esteem. You sought for their approval, some people would actually go to the extent of lying about their interests for this (but please don’t do that), thus, being cast aside by this one person has a major impact on you as a person. Because this one person was the world to you. You question yourself, nit-picking, perhaps it was your shoes. Maybe it’s the way you’re too sarcastic for him. Or he has someone else.

I dropped into a slump because I didn’t choose to be in that state, no one did and will. We all want to be happy like Joy in “Inside Out.” That is the one month that I won’t forget, especially when the inflicted wound kept bleeding and the memories kept bleeding. And both of you are all smiles as if nothing had happened. The world spins around and time never stops for anyone. I felt the utmost anger when he asked me out again, when he cares for my well-being, when he asked about my day – giving me hope that things would escalate from this position, perhaps, he was uncertain about his feelings just as much as I was. And, we would get the happy ending that we very much deserve so I would stop second-guessing myself. When he does those little things that makes me feel appreciated, the anger bubbles up again. I did come to a point where, if there’s no such thing as consequences, I would actually stand in front of him and sing Justin Bieber’s “What Do You Mean?” Yes, I would resort to that method if there’s no such thing as shame as well.

Well, I have digressed too much, it was supposed to be about perception, but my life story is up there. Even when I was typing this, I realize something that is very crucial. The way I see it, he broke my heart, so I have every single reason to be angry and he is just a clueless lad that needs a broken nose. But I have been looking through this whole situation with a fogged up glass, and I was unwilling to wipe away the fog that is the feeling of disappointment which has been clouding up my thoughts. Of course he wasn’t the wrong here, he shouldn’t be apologetic either, remember, I have never told him how I felt about him, and perhaps I had miscalculated his attention as affection when it was purely platonic.

The bottom line is I have deluded myself into it, I have read all the signs wrongly and that’s why I have been directed to despair. From the start, when someone is paying attention to you in the midst of the crowd, it does wonders to your self –worth. It’s all blooming daisies and there’s a skipping gait on your steps because finally you matter to someone else (other than your family members). The anger after the rejection is a completely natural human feeling; you have been tossed asunder, and suddenly you’re left alone once more. Yet, the lesson I have learnt is – never let another person define you, never let your emotions be your ultimate compass. Take good care of your heart (metaphorically speaking) never let it be swayed so easily.