Followers

Mighty Jacksparrow is an Earth-based sub-intergalactic blogger who enjoys writing and in the same time entertaining his ever-amusing will-kill-to-read fans with sensationally hilarious and at times dramatic musings. This blog offers endless ideas and results; they might be charming most of the times but could be offending in some others. Therefore, it is always noble to remind that if you enjoy the pieces, carry on reading, but if they upset you, do quietly leave like the evening breeze and not like exploding diarrhea, which exactly what you will look like if you ever lose it on me. Enjoy! :D

Wednesday, December 02, 2009

Aku Rindu


Another passerby came today to tell that I have been missing too many things with respect to having a special somebody.

She said that I have forgotten how to count my blessing, for neglecting all the attentions from various ladies I had been surprisingly getting since weeks back. Forget I did not, never, nor I did ever neglect.

This I suppose have been quite a discussion among many who visited this blog; those who have been reading my digital journal entries and had been too knowing down to every detail about my journey around what we occasionally refer to as the Venusians. For instance, many have speculated about the post before this from which I believe my behavior towards the kind lady depicted in the story was arguably necessary and merciful to be exact, and I being the person in the question of why - why did I do it?

"You do not have any reason to anymore reject such call, you," she said to me.

"I am sorry," I replied. "But I have every reason why I did it."

"Oh aren't you not one sorry boy," she sighed. "Disappointing."

"And how sorrowful it is to know that I am one of such in your eyes."

"Why, no. No, no darling," she again spoke to me upon hearing my tone. "My, I am sorry. I should have not spoken of this, for I believe you are at the clearest advantage to making such decision."

"Forgiven."

Moments passed in silence.

"You," she finally said something. "Tell me this one thing. Do you not anymore miss being in love?"

"I do," I replied in a halfway smile. "Of course I do."

"Then why do you not?"




I just smiled.


* * *

It is true that I have been missing a lot of things.

Somehow the wet weather that currently has been hitting this little mining town of Tronoh has sent me not only the sentimental effect of gloom but also hints of melancholy that at times beat without even a single act of mercy shown towards me. From every little drop of rain, the gloomy feeling it brings fills the gaps in between pieces of what is left of my heart. And for every strike of lightning and thunder, the melancholic affection pounds on me never ever fail, in the manner of a hammer to a helpless nail.

And all these contributes to this total feeling I have since ever experiencing, of missing something that all leads to love itself.

Oh how I miss being in love.

How I miss having someone by my side; the warm sensation I feel whenever her skin brushes against mine, the feelings I feel when I know she is there just physically a few inches from me, vulnerable enough for me to keep closing in to, the smell of her hair and the scent of her body that binds me forever to her quite too entirely, quite too intimately. The passionate, sensational feeling against the tip of my fingers as I run them gently over the soft facial skin of hers, as I feel her nose, her lips, her ears and her long lovely hair.

How I miss to see the look of her as she sleeps. The peaceful look she shows when she is deep in her rest - her beautiful eyelashes, her shapely lips and the small moves she makes when she breaths. How I miss playing with her hair and her nose while she sleeps just to mess with what she is dreaming about, to run one finger on the curves on her face tenderly and to adore the prettiness that lies before me.

How I miss to hug her, to kiss her forehead gently as she kisses the back of my hand each time we bid goodbye during every departure we go through.

And how I miss speaking to someone I am so fondly into, about this mix of burning emotions I have been entirely having, about the future with her I am very much looking forward to have, about all the things beautiful in this world we could possibly share together. How I miss to hear her lovely voice that strokes into my auditory tracts like flowing water, and her laughs that cheer me up and dry my saddening tears.

Oh how I miss to soothe one crying lass, to calm down a damsel in distress. To wipe her flowing tears, hugging her close to my body as she sobbed her sorrows out and away on my shoulder. How I miss talking soft, lovely words to make her feel better again, to stop her from weeping by doing every little thing just to see that bedevil smile I crave for once again.

And how I miss being touched. Being told that it is me she is in love with. That I am her man.

Never again my nights will be this difficult, nor my days being way too dark. Never again this emptiness fills even one bloody second of my time no matter how I try to occupy myself with chores and whatnot. Let alone those heartbreaking moments that hit when I wake up in the morning just to know that I do not have anyone from which I could wish good morning love to, and again hit as I land on the bed to bid farewell to the day still knowing that I still have nobody I could kiss goodnight and wish a brighter tomorrow with all the love I have in my heart to.

And all I go to sleep with every night is hope, a neverending hope, only to wake up the next day with it still, this time has already corroded badly from previous night's dream - a dream so lovely that I wish I could stay in for just a little bit longer. But I never did, for I never have could.

Because to the world, I am no one's man.


* * *


"Don't say that," she said. "I am sure she will be here one day."

"Well," I said as I tapped my cigarette, "whoever she is, she is late."

Almost as instantly her phone rang. She answered it.

"I am sorry that I have to excuse myself," she told me as she packed her things up. "My boyfriend is here to pick me up already."

"Well go on, now."

"Promise me you take care?"

"I do."

And there she went off leaving me on the cold, rusty metal chair on one rainy evening.

I looked at my watch and wondered, where was my girlfriend? Wasn't she coming to pick me up already? It's already late. I took a look around at the empty concourse area. There was no one else. And then it occurred to me.







I did not have any. And I still don't.


7 comments:

MayLin :: Melinda said...

she is late, but she will come. no worries :)

yan said...

i miss being in love too..

so now u don't like rainy days anymore?

:)

Mighty Jacksparrow said...

Melinda: I am not sure about this. wonder what took her so long.

yan: how could I, ever, hate something that has ever since stayed so loyally with me wherever I go? The rain. I could have never hated the rain, no matter how I did try to change what I feel towards it. people leave, but never the rain. never.

and still i wonder why does it always rain on me.

Fiza Falak said...

u cant still be bloody single?!?!!

Mighty Jacksparrow said...

neh. of course I can. btw hai fizaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa bile nak kopi kopi lagiiiiiiiiii

Aziyan said...

i love the rain too..i love walking in the rain, because no one will see me crying..

it always rain on me too. but it's good, nonetheless.

Mighty Jacksparrow said...

quite unfortunately i still doubt my love towards the rain.