Bend down, the resentful Mr. Love, lifting his head just enough to show disappointment through glazy eyes.
Looking at me, the masochist of the year since I decided to leave you.
I could hear voices coming from Mr. Love’s mouth even though his lips did not show any movement. Spells and glamor, incantation of unhappiness uttering that he would cease to guide me in finding the one.
While I, still mortified out of last week’s war, could do nothing but to moor on the wall by his side. I tried to sit still with Mr. Love, blinded by hope that such intimate gesture could actually mend his anger.
He was still mad; not that I need to see it more from his intimidating pair of eyeballs to know. So what I did was stare at the empty room in front of us.
She was yours, she who understands. You realize that you are not the simplest man on earth don’t you?
Unable to hold his dwindling mutters no more, he finally decided to exempt it through words. Way too humane for him, I thought.
So you talk?
You did not answer me.
‘I know’. That’s the best answer I could give.
He remained still. I never knew if there is such thing as level of stillness, yet Mr. Love looked even more still than before.
What is wrong with her?
A rhetorical question, really? You know she is perfect.
So what is wrong?
You actually doubt your own sense of Judgment?
Such aberrant for something like me.
He reached into even higher level of stillness. Then silence.
Nothing is wrong. Really.
Yes. And you know I loathe you, so I have no intention to make you feel better.
So why did you do that?
You left her.
No. I left you.
I could see all of Mr. Love’s resentment slowly washed away by my foolish answer. His bending body glared at me compassionately, as if he is a mother who listened to the dream of a boy who wants to fly when he finally grew his pair of wings. She needed to tell her boy that humans are not meant to fly.
Oh you poor little thing. Here’s what I want to tell you: ‘you cannot leave Love’, dear boy.
Well, I’m trying.
By throwing away the only ticket to your happiness?
He sprawled his leg, filled the room with an overflowing scent of disappointment. The flood came with such force; the very scent stroke me away just after I realized that his bending position is meant to hold this brute force all along.
I’m just tired with romance. Promises too much pain.
And loneliness seems tantalizing?
To ask more out of her is no choice at all.
I could feel Mr. Love’s understanding. He didn’t agree, but he understands. I stood up, getting ready to leave him be, locked in this room for an indefinite amount of time, even forever.
Yet just before I leave, something within told me to oblige him with truth.
It’s the least that I could give.
The time may come when she would seek something from me, something that I could never convey. That is why I left.
He smiled. Followed by a sudden burst of warmth, caused the room that I made especially for him bloomed so bright, giving a calm yet destructive atmosphere in his thousand corners. I saw every inch of the walls went mad, begged to perish themselves out of Love’s storming beauty: all out of a single acceptance smile from the almighty Mr. Love.
Still, I am going to leave Mr. Love. A decision I would surely regret especially with his last words that still lingers until today.
When the time comes, my boy, Love would show you that nothing is beyond saving.