Fear to love

Dear God my listener,

Today’s PA, again it was terribly boring. I slept through the whole period.

Towards the end of the class, I jumped awake and ran off. Jude came by and asked me a question:" Why are boys so ego?" I smiled and replied:"Because God created girls too!"

Ego? Am I? Perhaps I am. How much would anyone else know, behind those smiles has a hidden silence, deadly lonesome? No one, I think. How long has it been, I really mean it when I said “I love you”? 1 and a half years ago, probably. Oh ya, hehe, I’ve never really told my second girl friend “I love you”

Yet, how much do I love? I’m confused.

Every lonely night that I flip through my phonebook, and find no one that I would call, no one that can listen to the every tear that drip from the very edge of my eyes.

I’m confused. Note that I’m lonely, yet could not seem to find anyone, any girl to be specific, that would be intimate to me. I know every girl in school, I can put on a smile on every girl, yet no one I found would draw herself near and come into my heart.

Perhaps it’s not that they would not come into my heart. Perhaps it is my heart that is closed and would not allow anyone to come in. It’s a havoc in there. Memories, photos, poems, music and…blood thrown all over my heart. The only thing that is shining brightly is the cross hanging on the wall of my living heart, the only living part of me.

2 thieves came into my heart, stole every spirit out of me, and left me scars and scratches all over the wall. I, living in such room, open up my heart that would comfort me, but came the thieves who hurt me so much, that I would not dare to open my heart anymore. I don’t want to get hurt, I don’t want to weep, I don’t like crying.

A farmer came, with her seeds and water, on the day that again open up my heart after my first theft, inviting any guest would bring her heart close enough to let me feel her heart beating. She sowed the seeds in my living room, and said: “The seeds will grow into a shining cross, and the shining cross will spring up living water that you will not be thirsty again.” I loved the farmer, because every time she came into my heart, she lay her heart in my treasure box, that I hear every beating of her heart.

But perhaps she’s a farmer with her family, she never told me about it. And one day she left to South part of my country, and never again came back. I kept waiting, but the empty heart starts to grow old and slowing tearing apart. And a bulldozer came, ripped my heart apart.

The pain in there, is beyond what I can hold, beyond what I thought I could hold. My door is shut and locked, locking myself in there, shivering.

Perhaps they were visitors, coming into my heart, eat and drink up my spirit, snapping photos and left them all over my floor, pick up their shoes and go. I’m looking for a Mistress of my House. But no one wants to be.

Hey there! The short haired girl with a sweet voice outside the window. Slow down a bit, will ya? I’m inviting ya, to be the Mistress of my house. Would you hold my hand and come? That you and I will feel each other’s heartbeat and kiss each other’s tear.