On the first week of November, you saw a young lady going giddy to start her first day at work – well-dressed and painstakingly made up. She was talking about it but being careful not to look so boastful of the good news. It was a great start of November for her, she thought.
The following day you saw her smiling, but it was not the same as yesterday's or the last week's. You sense a different vibe surrounding her sunny persona – not the usual. What a great thing to start November, she thought.
You saw her crying on a Saturday night, at the secret garden. No, this is not what I wanted, she thought.
At night, probably 9 PM, you passed by a young lady walking the way to her dormitory. Slow paced, looking afar... holding her tears. No, the tears just rolled down her eyes. She weakly wiped it. She's been having the same thoughts since that night.
At a 7-Eleven store, you saw her choosing between two beverages. She looked troubled and no will at all. Look at her eyes, all puffed.
You saw her again. She's finally asleep at 2 AM. But her thoughts did not stop bothering her, hunting her even in her dreams.
At your favorite restaurant, and maybe other college students' favorite too, you were having fun with your friends then you saw a familiar lady walking in with her friends by her both sides. They chose to go upstairs and had their orders. They looked good, but it seemed like they were talking about something serious. She was okay, she thought, until she unexpectedly burst into tears. Her friends were hugging and comforting her.
The next day, you may have seen her, but... there's something different. Did she lose weight? No. Oh, it's the hair. She cut her hair! She looked satisfied with her new look but her eyes were speaking the same since that night. I believe I'm okay, she thought.
You're going out of the Capilla and you saw her coming in. You asked how she was, she flashed a smile and answered I'm totally fine. You hugged her and walked away, while she sat on the front seat and closed her eyes. Again, tears rolling down her cheeks. Deliver me from this pain, she prayed.
Finally, the last week of November. You were focused in the task assigned by your boss, suddenly she stood up and went outside. Few seconds after, you heard someone sobbing. You looked to your right – to your left. Everyone's just focused on their thing! Who could it be? Then she came back but her eyes were sadder. It intrigued you because you had no clue, yet she stayed quiet and acted normal. For you, it was never normal again.
At 22:11, you saw her at the computer shop. She's looking at the white screen of her PC, a clear Microsoft Word, probably a writer's block situation again. She looked down and breathed heavily. She bit her lower lip because of the mixed emotions welling up until she couldn't hold it anymore. She just let her tears out and wiped it just like how she was doing it for the past few weeks. That young lady you saw the other day or night is the young lady who wrote this.
In some part of my story, I wish that November didn't happen to me. It is the plot twist that I hated to happen in my story. Those days and nights having myself drowned in my cyclic thoughts and feelings, I wish I could just go back in time. I wish I could have said more. I wish I could have said less. I wish to not hear those words. I wish to know more. And it hurts that every time I try to move forward, I just find myself going backward.
Now it's December.
I am starting my December cold.
I am starting my December in pain.
I am starting my December with few regrets.
I am starting my December still full of hopes.
It is the last month of this year and it is what everyone is looking forward – cold weather, Christmas feels, vacation, reunion, parties, gift-giving, and more. December is so much having the vibes of excitement and joy, yet it also carries sadness for many people. Yes, including me.
So here I am, wishing that December will be a great one.