All the hands

Reflected upon my eyes were the gloomy clouds. The morning was quite dark and it did forced me to fight with my struggles upon repulsing on waking up very early in the morning.

It was raining outside. But it was a light one. All of the pathways, the walkways, the stairs and everything unshaded were wet by the drops.

It was just an unfortunate, that as I was on my feet heading towards the ground floor through the stairs, the sole of my shoes failed to grip me tight on my stands. It was slippery.

I thought it was enough for only one slide, but it summed up to be three steps I have skidded. Lucky enough, I didn't trip. I didn't fell. I still could hold on to my balance. It was only my feet.

The best part of the incident was all the hands that offered me their helps. Even the ones that I'm not close with, and the ones that I didn't even know. At least I know—the world is still safe.

He has found the answer

She heads through the door trembly.

There is something about her. It catches his attention straight away. It is a relieved that he is still with his mind. Unlike the days when he had to put in and top up caffeines into his favourite cup for several times. Apparently, the caffeine is not helping him to stay still in front of his desk to finish what he has started.

It is hard to see through the glass when the reflected lights win over his sight. It pains his eyes. He tries to find the right arm of his glass and lifts it up. As if he can make the pain any lesser, and it does, with a little bit of rubs on his right eye and a few pinches on the bridge of his nose.

The traffic is purely at ease that night. He observes the humans of his town crossing the road and passing by the street. There is something about the condition that simply makes him very pleased.

He turns around and grabs his jacket from his chair. He checks out himself on the mirror before he is devoured into the dark after he passes the door.

♠

The bell on the door amuses him, as if he is always welcomed to come over. He sees the familiar eyes on the counter and reaches over. He orders as what has he been ordering for the past few months and tries to find the best seat next to her.

♠

"I live upstairs."

"So you saw me."

"Quite a few times."

"This is my aunt's."

"Oh."

"I saw you too."

"You seems nothing but green."

"I just love green."

"And why is that?"

"It just happens."

♠

For the last time, he splashes the water onto his face and then stares at his reflection on the mirror. The same man, the same figure. For a few seconds, the mirror is accumulated and covered by his breath of sigh. He seems loosen.

It is a different night. He wonders if the caffeine can put him on relax just as how he is in the exact possession right now. The meet was brief. The talk was short. It taught him something, nonetheless. Voluntarily, he is slowly engulfed in his dream.

He has found the answer.

Nobody said it was easy

You know the feeling when the end doesn't feel like the end? Because you are too exhausted that you can hardly feel the exact moment that you live in at a time. The effect is still on. I remember it has been a long time since the last time I felt very empowered and highly enthusiastic over the feeling after answering the last paper of exams. And it's not anymore, as of my degree life.

Nobody said it was easy. 

Nothing is easy. 

I rarely say stuff or two about my study, if you realized. But this time, I'm on it. It's not that I want to rant over the fact that I'm having a very hard time to cope up with my study. No. But to state it clearly and honestly; it's not easy. And I'm not comparing my study with others'. 

Talking about comparing the scale of hardness of the things being studied. I would have a hard time to composed myself  with calming and positive thoughts to repress myself from voicing out my reply (which contains hurting elements) to some people's statement that I highly despise. It is something that I have to tell other people about how it triggers my inner other side, that I don't have the guts to show and praise it on the person who makes me feel like punching everyone in the room. 

I don't want to lose people in my circle. Because it's not easy to let them in. I have to protect and preserve the bonds. Losing is not okay.

Maybe it's not them, it's me.

Maybe the way I poured out my feeling has made them feel like I should have known about theirs and I should stop complaining.

Maybe I thought it was okay to express my feeling as I believe it could relieves me.

I remember all the biggest moments relating to this incident—peoples comparing my study to theirs; saying how harder theirs than ours; explaining how my study is way easier. And when one doesn't meet their expectation, they judge and state it out why one shouldn't—"it's easy".

In case you missed it; it hurts to hear all those proud comparison. Now I know how it likes being cruelly stabbed right in the heart, virtually. I'm fragile, even only all those statements could easily cracked me up. Little did I know it would stressed me out even up until the present. Man, it's not easy to remind yourself that you're not stupid.

No one has it easy.

That I hope people wouldn't make it any harder for others.