Out Of Reach
"Pumpkin!"
"Pumpkin!", Liam called me from his desk, tried to call as loud as he could, but turned out as low as a hiss. I turned over. He smiled. The curvy line that his lips made when he smiled was somewhat tantalizing - that you really wanted to hate it but you couldn't because it spelled some charm into your mind by only a glance of his face. The island of four tables that I sat in was empty. Each of them fled somewhere else, perhaps to some urgent meetings, or to the field, preparing templates before setting up the new benzene tank. If he really wanted to say something, that was probably the best time to talk without any intervention from other people, or at least it would save him some explanation to explain to the other lot.
The laptop screen was full with numbers and parameters. The question Gianni asked me the day before whether to proceed turbine shaft balancing with 6.3G or 2.5G was left unanswered. The hissing amplified. I looked at him again, and his fingers made a semblance of a rough wave, asking me to go to his place. Hesitating, I walked to his desk and stood still beside him. There was a silence, but in every silence that we endured, there was always a smile. And that's the case again.
He reached his hands to his second drawer, slid it open, and took out a box. A wooden box. And brown in color. The box was pretty with a carving of an unknown font at the top of the lid. The wordings that were carved on it were unreadable, but it was beautiful nonetheless. He reached out for my hand, brought it over close to him, asked me to flat out my palm, and he put that box onto it. He grabbed my fingers and closed it over. His fingers were warm, and I haven't touched them in weeks, and when it hit mine, I knew that I missed him so much. The wood veins were fantastic, spiral at the four-wall, and a gallery of almost straight deep black lines at the lid. The smell was between oak or imperial.
I smiled at him. It was the hardest thing by far that I had done on that day. Trying to smile to someone that I tried to forget.
"Thank you", and I walked away.
When I told Nina later that day of what happened, she said he did that perhaps just to make up the silent treatment that I had been giving him in the past few days. Because, she said, if he really really wanted to give me the brownish little box, he should've given me right the day after, not a few days late. I tried to reason with her explanation, and I saw where she's going with that. She was right. Or she was right until then.
"Have you opened the box?", the words she made was mumbled along with the beef lasagna that I brought over.
"No. I don't think I am going to open it"
After all what he did to me, this was not another episode of me going into the same pool of shits all over again. When all the numbness started to subside, the pain now emerged again. Nina quick to intervene and told me to take it with a grain of salt. I told Nina that I refused to dwell in the same old memories all over again, so I was thinking to move on. She was happy, and so did I. But who we are to lie to ourselves when the real happiness that we are looking for is never exist?
Later that day, I whispered something to Aaron. Something that I thought the whole day. Something that made me happy.
"It is okay if one person makes you feel sad, when there will be another ten persons that will make you feel happy"
Aaron quickly baffled and asked me whether he heard it right, and I told him that he heard me right.
"I think you are wrong. You got the sentence all wrong", Aaron looked at me in my eyes.
"Then what's the right one?", I looked him back in his eyes. His hair was a mess.
"It should be okay if ten people make you feel sad, when there will be one person that is going to make you feel happy", he smiled.
"But I don't have that one person, unfortunately", my heart sank.
"Oh honey. You have me right?", he grinned and laughed.
I turned my head to Liam, and saw him stared at me. His stares deep with jealousy.
At that time, I knew that my heart floated all over again.
ZA
"Pumpkin!", Liam called me from his desk, tried to call as loud as he could, but turned out as low as a hiss. I turned over. He smiled. The curvy line that his lips made when he smiled was somewhat tantalizing - that you really wanted to hate it but you couldn't because it spelled some charm into your mind by only a glance of his face. The island of four tables that I sat in was empty. Each of them fled somewhere else, perhaps to some urgent meetings, or to the field, preparing templates before setting up the new benzene tank. If he really wanted to say something, that was probably the best time to talk without any intervention from other people, or at least it would save him some explanation to explain to the other lot.
The laptop screen was full with numbers and parameters. The question Gianni asked me the day before whether to proceed turbine shaft balancing with 6.3G or 2.5G was left unanswered. The hissing amplified. I looked at him again, and his fingers made a semblance of a rough wave, asking me to go to his place. Hesitating, I walked to his desk and stood still beside him. There was a silence, but in every silence that we endured, there was always a smile. And that's the case again.
He reached his hands to his second drawer, slid it open, and took out a box. A wooden box. And brown in color. The box was pretty with a carving of an unknown font at the top of the lid. The wordings that were carved on it were unreadable, but it was beautiful nonetheless. He reached out for my hand, brought it over close to him, asked me to flat out my palm, and he put that box onto it. He grabbed my fingers and closed it over. His fingers were warm, and I haven't touched them in weeks, and when it hit mine, I knew that I missed him so much. The wood veins were fantastic, spiral at the four-wall, and a gallery of almost straight deep black lines at the lid. The smell was between oak or imperial.
I smiled at him. It was the hardest thing by far that I had done on that day. Trying to smile to someone that I tried to forget.
"Thank you", and I walked away.
When I told Nina later that day of what happened, she said he did that perhaps just to make up the silent treatment that I had been giving him in the past few days. Because, she said, if he really really wanted to give me the brownish little box, he should've given me right the day after, not a few days late. I tried to reason with her explanation, and I saw where she's going with that. She was right. Or she was right until then.
"Have you opened the box?", the words she made was mumbled along with the beef lasagna that I brought over.
"No. I don't think I am going to open it"
After all what he did to me, this was not another episode of me going into the same pool of shits all over again. When all the numbness started to subside, the pain now emerged again. Nina quick to intervene and told me to take it with a grain of salt. I told Nina that I refused to dwell in the same old memories all over again, so I was thinking to move on. She was happy, and so did I. But who we are to lie to ourselves when the real happiness that we are looking for is never exist?
Later that day, I whispered something to Aaron. Something that I thought the whole day. Something that made me happy.
"It is okay if one person makes you feel sad, when there will be another ten persons that will make you feel happy"
Aaron quickly baffled and asked me whether he heard it right, and I told him that he heard me right.
"I think you are wrong. You got the sentence all wrong", Aaron looked at me in my eyes.
"Then what's the right one?", I looked him back in his eyes. His hair was a mess.
"It should be okay if ten people make you feel sad, when there will be one person that is going to make you feel happy", he smiled.
"But I don't have that one person, unfortunately", my heart sank.
"Oh honey. You have me right?", he grinned and laughed.
I turned my head to Liam, and saw him stared at me. His stares deep with jealousy.
At that time, I knew that my heart floated all over again.
ZA
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