We are no longer in love


We are no longer in love. Something I have come to realise since we got sick of each other’s movements and scents. His scent became too familiar that it seemed my nose needed the presence of fresh coffee beans, it’s almost always ridiculous––when I think of it. Guess that’s just the way it is. When reality starts to bite, you will absolutely feel it, and ache for it. I wish I could think of romantic thoughts as I stare at him while he sleeps but hell I couldn’t.

We are no longer in love. But we choose to stay, nonetheless. The honeymoon stage was over, no more spice, no more thrill, no more extra hot scenes, no more remarkable positions to discover. Notwithstanding the death of excitement, I never regret choosing to stay with him. Despite the plateau of cycle under the same roof we’re in, I never thought of leaving him. And in spite of the thousands of fights and arguments and disagreements, I never imagined living life without him. For even if we are no longer in love, it didn’t mean I don’t love him.

He turned around and faced me, still with his eyes closed, he moaned a sensual moan perhaps due to a wet dream. He subconsciously pulled me from my waist, towards him and moaned yet again, in a whisper form this time that triggered some of my buried wild emotions. It’s been a while since he held me this close. Though his scent, like I said, was too familiar, the warmth of his breath was quite tantalising. The lines on his face was too vivid, being only a few inches away from his face, yet it made me smile. I couldn’t remember the last time I looked at him the way I am looking at him now. He’s still looking good, after all these years of a rollercoaster of marriage.

I wanted to kiss him. I wonder how those dry lips taste and if it will bring back nostalgic memories in my head. I have forgotten how his kisses taste but never the way they made me feel. It would only take me half a second to do it, but I stopped myself from doing so. The idea of it makes me overthink––what if he awakes and find it disgusting? We’re old and ageing. Like I told you, being married for so long was to blame for the absence of spice and thrill. What if the way I look at him now and the way he used to look at me when we were younger, was something he has already forgotten?

He moved his hand down from my waist to my hips and then stopped in my legs. He leaned a bit closer that the tip of his nose touched mine, I got a little claustrophobic. I got trapped in his dreamy self with no space to breathe but I didn’t want to leave. Guess his body’s telling to stop overthinking and just do it.

And so I did. I kissed him and put his hand in between my legs and closed my eyes. I began feeling his fingers gently penetrating me, bringing old hot memories back to life. I felt embarrassed with the roughness of my skin and the saggy baggy belly I carry with me but he owned me anyway. He owned me, touched me, and felt my bones crack in play. With his eyes open, he made love to me as tears start rolling down my face. We are no longer in love, but love still remained.






The Psychoweirdo’s charm

Ben was bewildered by the silent scene he just witnessed right before his very eyes. It almost felt like he’s in a movie wherein two girls are about to fight over him, which made him feel a bit proud of himself, that added some dose of pride and confidence in his Alpha soul. He scratched the daydreaming after realising that this ain’t a movie at all, it was real life. His wife Abby is standing right next to his mistress who happened to be a sin he would never regret of committing. Ash has exceeded the definition of perfection—who is gifted with such undeniably seducing soul, with those brown eyes that speaks of lust, a body that shouts of warmth and home, hair that smells of lilies in full bloom and a sweet voice that mimics of Jazz on a sad solitary night. He must be crazy, he thought. Whatever it is, he knows for a fact that a woman like this is almost impossible to even exist, like a gem that can only be found in the dark abyss of ocean and seas.

“What is going on in here? Abby, let’s go home now, I’ll explain everything…” said Ben, who suddenly dropped the paperbag of Japanese food he bought at Yabu Restaurant as he rapidly reached out for his wife’s hands so he can escort her out of the house. But he reckoned it’s not possible, with Abby’s face that threatens of a quick death, by the way her features instantly transformed in mere seconds. A pair of fire emojis replaced her once angelic eyes, at least to his imagination, that made him sweat like he just lifted a 300 lbs of weights, non-stop.

Abby slightly moved back from her standing position as she peered at Ben with sheer rage, then she shoo him away in the most brutal way possible, as he attempts to hold her and lead her out of the house.

“No, i need explanation NOW!!! You fuckin’ tell me what’s going on and why the fuck are you cheating with me and how long has this been going on?!??! Fuckin’ tell me ’cause I fuckin’ deserve to know!!!!!” she stated hysterically, losing all the poise a legal wife should have. She just lost it, she couldn’t help it.

Ash nonchalantly held and opened up her tiny jar by the coffee table that contains sweets and gums and grabbed a strawberry flavored gum she calmly put into her mouth, as she watches this familiar boring movie that’s making her nearly sleepy. She crossed her arms in front of her and leaned her back against the wall as she chews and pops the gum in her mouth, in a sexy manner every man would absolutely get turned on, even just on the chewing act alone. The Psychoweirdo didn’t say a word—her presence is enough to overrule the heated ambiance these overly dramatic Asian people created in her place. Fuck off, she thought.

Ben tried to carry his petite wife like a child, regardless of her violent protest with the act, scandalous cussing and crazy shouting. Notwithstanding Abby’s size, she was able to get off of him as she scratched him hard with her witch-like long nails and as she bit his arm that left a mark that is almost about to bleed. She didn’t wanna lose, no matter how ridiculous the scene she’s creating, she didn’t mind. She needs an answer, Ben needs to choose between her and this whore.

“OK! I will leave this filthy house, but you have to choose between me or your mistress. Tell me, who would you pick? Your wife who have loved you for years or this bitch you barely know?! Tell me! Fuckin’ decide NOW!” she threatened Ben, whilst pointing to Ash, confident enough that he’s going to choose her, ’cause she’s the legal wife, the right owner of Ben.

Ash wasn’t bothered by the wife’s threat, she cared less about losing Ben, but she knows she was the best in bed, by far. She’s thinking hard as she looks at Ben, trying to send a captivating message through her eyes—to stay and choose her. She’s not sure yet, but she wants to be chosen, perhaps it was her ego or maybe it was also because she was truly hooked by this guy’s inexplicable hotness.

Ben didn’t know how to reply, he’s both shocked and frightened. What is he supposed to do now?

To be continued…

Things I shouldn’t be sorry for but I’m sorry anyway

I’m sorry I left. Sorry if I told you I wouldn’t, but I did anyway. Sorry if each time we have lunch or dinner together and I didn’t like the food i ordered, you would exchange yours when it tastes better—you could sacrifice your own taste buds’ craving for my mouth’s neediness for greatness. Sorry if I always demand for neatness, as I would ask you to shave and you would, so frequently as if your hair roots are endless—but you never whined. You always wanted to look good in my eyes, is this because you didn’t want me to look elsewhere? Well if that’s a yes, then you succeeded. I never liked and loved someone apart from you but I’m sorry if that ain’t enough for me to stay. Sorry if I’m always anxious even at the tiniest of issues, at the pettiest of problems and at the shallowest of reasons to be anxious to begin with. But you stayed, you were there, when I was so down, when I thought I couldn’t rise up bravely enough. You listened patiently to my rants, gave me thought provoking advices about life, comforted me each time I cry. You never left, I’m sure you even wondered—’how come she did?’

I’m sorry I gave up in a snap. Sorry if I wasn’t strong enough to fight, if in this race I have to yield and vanish in your sight. I didn’t expect you would understand but you did anyway. You said it was your fault though I never blamed you. You said you should have been more, but I think you are wrong. I think you were more than the true meaning of “more”, perhaps “most” fits you best or a “too much” all along. You’re too much of a decent man it nearly killed me. It scared the devils inside me so I pushed you away. It wasn’t your fault, it was the fears I created that knows no origin. I’m sorry if commitments are still foreign to me. I’m sorry if ‘trust issues’ are tattooed in my skin — I’ve been trying to remove them, but they keep coming back like cancer cells that deteriorate, no matter how hard you try to get rid of it. You were the best man every girl should have. But my brokenness doesn’t match to your wholeness, and if we continue this, you might catch this disease. And I couldn’t afford to drag you along in this bloody hell of anguish. So I’m sorry, if I have to cut this off and finish our book with a dreadful ending. I’m sorry for being me, even though they say that’s something you shouldn’t be sorry for, but I reckon you deserve to hear my apology.

One day, I’ll show up in your doorstep and maybe beg for another chance. I promise to figure out this mess and put things on their proper place. But right now allow me to fix my broken pieces and find out how to be whole again—all by myself. I want to be right for you, and I will only be… if I get to love the reflection in the mirror that in every single day, I see.

(Photo credit to the owner)

Love and Loss, Truth and the End (2)

img_3689He shrieked like a hungry baby. He knows it ain’t manly to do so but he knows no other strategy to make her feel a little bit of guilt and maybe just maybe, through his sobbing, she gets to realize that she couldn’t live without him—that his love is genuine, that he’s the one for her.

“Tell me, how can things have a meaning, if you’re not beside me all the time? I can’t picture you with another guy, no ugh I just can’t. Please just please, this time I’ll make things work. I promise you, I’ll be better. I’ll do everything to revive the love that died when I foolishly neglected you. Would you please give me another chance?”

She looked at him whilst he wept, waiting for a message from her heart, thinking maybe the act will somehow awaken the feelings that withered but there was nothing — all she felt was utter pity. He was pressing her hands, kissing the back of it. Like a puppy who finds a way so his owner won’t go to work and they could play all day, like a salesman who desperately asks a customer to buy his product. But it ain’t effective. Too much of emotions seems like a flood of disaster for her. She’s a strong independent woman who barely relied her happiness over someone. And this strategy of begging is just a huge turn-off. She allowed him to say please as many times as he wants, but it’s lucid to her that the word won’t change her mind.

“Everyone deserves a second chance. Even a man of infidelity could be given another chance by the woman who truly loves her. I want to follow this common notion but when I look at you now and I ask myself — is this the person I want to spend the rest of my life with? The answer is a NO. I’m not saying this to hurt you even more but sometimes we need to get smashed in the face by the truth than to forever suffer with a lie. Truth deepens the pain but a lie prolongs it. What do you prefer?”

He stopped crying when each word that came out of her lips stabbed him with no warning. Her confidence numbed his muscles he couldn’t seem to move. Some words got tattooed in his skin: love and loss, truth and the end. He knows that he won’t be able to get rid of these words just as much as he won’t be able to move on from her. He knew he took her for granted, because he thought it was okay for her — she never complained that much anyway. He lacked the initiative to communicate with her, he ignored the signs to feed her needs in the relationship. He was a fool to keep on takin’ but rarely givin’. He was stupid to think love is enough to keep her happy.

What do you think should the boy do? Should he insist and keep on saying please? Or should he let her go despite the fact that a life without her is a puzzle with a huge missing piece?