I could feel my heartbeat taking me down
And for the moment, I would sleep alright
Invading with a selfish fear
To keep me up another restless night
Another restless night

The blood was dry, it was sober
The feeling of audible cracks
And I could tell it was over
From the curtains that hung from your neck

And I realized that then you were perfect
And my teeth ripping out of my head
And it looked like a painting I once knew
Back when my thoughts weren’t entirely intact

To pray for what I thought were angels
Ended up being ambulances
And the Lord showed me dreams of my daughter
She was crying inside your stomach

And I felt love again

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Skating rink, I love them, I hate them.

It was one of those days when I was at Pyramid Ice. I captured this picture with my iPhone, and thought the guy was pretty good looking.

I don’t know, but I have been always in the liking for someone that is younger than me. My friends say that I like them you, I guess.

I had always loved the skating rink. It was my second time on the rink, I think. It looked so easy when you see people young and old gliding on the ice gracefully. My first time, it was slippery, nevermind that. The grooves that those people make on the ice, felt right to my legs. Why can’t people build softer skating shoes? Perhaps that way, I don’t feel the grooves on the ice?

It was a weird feeling, a feeling that I did not remember from my first time skating at Pyramid Ice.

I still remember the first time, after so many times of persuading that the boy need to do, that I went over to the rink, with him and another friend. The boy gave the excuse that we can finally hold hands in public, which is a very much given excuse, ever since my fondness of public display of affection.

After that much persuasion I finally gave in, and with another friend, we went to the skating rink.

The stinky shoes, the chill from the ice, the soggy gloves.

I finally did it. I was on the ice. The boy hold me by my hand, slowly dragging me. I tried to slide on the ice myself, and to no avail, I felt like my world been shaking too much, I can’t stand still on my feet.

There it was, the fall. Right smack center of that 2 butt cheeks. I felt the ice cracking until the skin of my pants, I really did.

I sat there on the ice, unspoken. Still traumatized from the fall. The fear that I feared the most.

It was those feeling where you wanted to shout out loud, but there’s something that is blocking your vocal cords. It was the same feeling that I had last time, when I fell down from the bicycle on the way to school.

I do admire people that can skate very well. I admire that they do not have the phobia of falling down like I did. I know damn well that, without this falling sensation, I too can be very good at it. I love the carefree movements, I love the speed and I love the sensation of wind rubbing against the hair.

Of course, the boy picked me up after that. He was worried. He kept on asking me if I was alright, but I can’t answer him. Just kept on nodding to him, and he then took me the the bench.

He hold me tight, worried about what had happened. I can see it from his eyes that he had regret dragging me to the skating rink despite my protest. I wish I could tell him it was alright, and that I do not blame him.

We hugged, for once at the bench at the skating rink compound, in the public eyes, we hugged.

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One of the nice things in a relationship is holding hands.

I like to hold the boy’s hands. Whether is it in the car, or just generally giving him that brisk hug that he deserves.

Holding hands to me is the kind of physical intimacy that is the kind of expression of feelings that I have for the boy. It gives the means of being present in that someone’s personal space. I hold hands with the boy, is because I want to share the things that he has, the personal space.

Holding hands significates the affection that I have to the boy.

Of recent, the boy has been avoiding holding my hand. Not to say totally avoid, but rather, with little response when I try to hold his hand…

I am confused with the kind of relationship that we are having now. We are in a relationship that no one, and not even ourself could explain or put a name to it. We are not boy friends, but we do things that other couple do together. We are not friends, because the amount of intimacy, and care, and attention that we give each others already warrant it to be otherwise.

Then again, it is hard for anyone to explain what kind of relationship we are in. As much as I would want the boy to get back to me, he is reluctant because I kept on hurting him, subconsiously.

It is common for couple with a wider age gap to share a different opinions over certain things or situation. It happened for generally quite a number of times, and most of the times each of us would debate on what is for the better.

I however, do not believe that the age difference is a permanent damage to our relationship. I believe that things will work out fine, but the amount of hurt feelings keep on coming, and pouring to our already sore hearts, will it ever stop?

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