I loudly sigh, leaning my head on the red worn-out couch—my eyes met the harsh fluorescent light bulb, I could hear the occasional cackling sound of the electricity coursing the light bulb, making its light waver. There was an old smell of moss mixed with a faint cleaning detergent, and from a smoke lit earlier in the room, but it was bearable enough for people to stay. I could see the ceiling decaying—its brownish color giving away.
I sat there for a while, waiting for a friend. It had been like this every Saturday night—gathering and just getting high like no care in the world at all.
The knob on the room rattled, I listened to the door open and footsteps rustling in. I closed my eyes and sighed. "What took you so long?", I raised my head and looked at my friend and someone behind her.
"Sorry, had to drag her out of her room.", she points at the woman behind her.
Blonde dyed hair, plump limps, slim figure, tattooed faces of celebrities on both her arm, black shirt, brown leather jacket, her almond eyes. My heart ached. Of course, I knew her. Her whole figure. Her.
I leaned my head back again on the red worn-out couch, closing my eyes, and biting my tongue. I don't think she knows me at all. We haven't met in real life after all since today.
I rested my left arm on the arm of the red worn-out couch, I sighed once again and patted the empty space on the couch beside me. "Sit. Let's just get on with it."
I could feel the space beside me being occupied. "Hey,", I heard her familiar voice. I had no plan in talking to her.
I lay silently with my eyes close. The harshness of the light hurt my eyes. I just want to escape this. Away from this world even for a while.
"That's so unfriendly of you.", my friend said across, rolling a joint.
I scoffed. "And?"
"I could feel the chill around.", she replied. "Make her feel at home will you?"
I opened my eyes, meeting the brown decaying ceiling. I pushed myself a little onto the couch and sat properly, facing the woman who I once loved, to who I poured my poetries and emotions, and the one who I gave all my time to her.
I looked at her emotionless, and cold. "Make yourself at home.", I forced a smile, but it came out like a sassy smile.
My friend who was rolling a joint laughed. "Has the world been cruel to you this week?"
I glanced at her. "I hate this woman beside me." I loved her.
She raised her brows, confused, her eyes darting back and forth between me and the woman beside me.
"Uhm...", I heard the tattooed woman say.
I leaned back again to my position earlier, crossing my arms, sighing, and leaning my head back again on the couch—eyes up on the ceiling. "We meet at last."
"Huh?", I could hear the confusion in her voice.
I smiled sadly. "Nevermind."
My heart ached. There was nothing between us. But my heart loves. And I wish I hadn't met you, I wish my heart was the same as it was now when I did. Cold, uncaring, manipulative. That way I could have taken something from you.
But I was also glad that I met you. I'm glad because if it wasn't for you, my heart would have still been the same—warm, naive.
I'm glad I met you because you made my heart cold the way I wanted it.
I didn't know what came over me, but I blurted out the words that meant to me that night.
"I loved you." But you didn't care.