He Wants To Run

4:20 AM

(Today's post is a short story inspired by all the things happening around me this week. As usual, I like to write short stories that are filled with love. Nothing naughty here though. :P)

Run. Run. Run.

All I can hear is these 3 words inside my head.

It's all coming to an end.

"What does it mean when all things are not the way it seems?"

Run. Run. Run.

"What does it mean when your life shows such a monotonous tone that you start to hate it admist all the comfort that you can have?"

Comfort doesn't equate to happiness.

"One should plan beforehand. It's like banging your head to a tree with no helmet on!"

You don't understand.

As a kid, I always remember that I love Disney's version of "The Jungle Book" very much. My grandma bought me the VHS tape and the storybook that comes with it. I love Baloo. Baloo doesn't have to go to school, Baloo doesn't have to do homework, Baloo doesn't need baths!

Baloo only needs the bare necessities.

Now, I stood at the edge of my apartment's roof top. The twin towers are glimmering in the distance. The other tower too. The man made landscape of never ending street lights snakes it's way through all the condominiums and houses that littered the landscape. It looks amazing, as it stretches so far, as far as my eyes can see. I do know it all stops at that very vast stretch of the distant hills, but how far it is I really do not know.

The chill air of the night blew a refreshing breeze. As it starts to get stronger, the wind was lifting up my hair, tugging at my shirt, and making me sneeze.

"You're cold?"

He was just standing behind me. It did frighten me a little. His footsteps were never this light. He usually stomps around like an elephant, announcing his arrival like a haughty little prince.

"No, I'm so warm that I can actually stand here without a thread on." My mind just blurted out these words. Oh my.

"Then you don't need me, I guess."

"I didn't mean what I've said."

"But you always mean what you say."

"Not this time."

I sat down, taking up my beer bottle and having a big swig from it. Shit, soda water seems like nectar when compared to this.

He walks to the left of me and sat down beside me. In his hand was a glass of whiskey on the rocks. His drink, and the only one that he favours.

"Hey, I know what's going on in your mind."

"What is?"

"Well, I know your work sucks to the max right now."

"Thanks for reminding me."

I took another swig of that beer. How horrible it tastes, but I just want to get drunk. Nothing else matters right now.

"I also know that your work performance lately isn't up to the company standards."

"I don't give a damn anymore. I'm submitting that letter tomorrow."


"Why? Do you know how horrible it feels after that incident? To know that you're not doing anything wrong, but got reprimanded instead, being the sacrificial goat? It just destroyed my reputation. All in the name of doing good. And it almost landed me some heavy fine or a fine stay at the prison."

"But you are doing good. And doing good is something we rarely see these days."

"You think so?"

"Yes. And if you leave, it's going to reaffirm other people thoughts that you are really the one who did it."

"But I don't see a reason to stay. I've lost all my passion after that day. The workplace seems like a jail, my thoughts all muddled and grey when I'm there. Even if I'm getting paid as we speak to feel the way I am right now, even if the price of having all the comforts that I can have is to be the sacrificial goat, I don't want to have it.

They just don't see me like they used to, ever again."

I look away from him, into the far distance where the twin towers rise up from the ground like two ears of corn. Ah, the lights have dimmed. It is now after midnight.

His voice breaks the silence.

"I'm sorry I blurted out the words yesterday without actually understanding about the situation."

"What? About the plan thingy? About me not having a plan and banging my head into a tree?"

"Yes. I talked to your aunt just now and she told me that you keep this away from me for quite some time. I know that you don't want me to worry, but look, we're married now. Look at this."

He took out his ring. It's no Tiffany's, just a simple gold band with inscriptions in Italic on the inside of the ring.

HUGO & ALEX 16/08

"You're wearing one too. And this is our token of love, reminding us everyday that we shall weather each storm that comes our way together, each burden shall be shared, each tear shall be wiped dry. For no matter what comes our way, you know I still love you.

I know that my patience yesterday was at its limits and burst suddenly, raising my voice and belittling your dreams that you have hold on for so long. I shouldn't have hurt my man that way. And to know that all these while he's been keeping something from me for fearing that I'll be worried to death, that is another reason why I shouldn't do what I did yesterday."

Tears start to well up from deep inside. I sobbed.

From a sob, it progresses to a cry. From a cry, it progresses to a flood of emotions, pouring, gushing like the monsoon drain. I hugged him so tight, so tight that I feel that if I ever lose my grip, I'll lose him.

Therefore dawned on me there is hope at that end of the horizon.

And I thank God for gifting such a man who is full of compassion in understanding me.

I love you Hugo. Forever and ever, husband and husband.

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