The Color Of Everything Two

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Cold air started to seep in through my skin as we drove up to the mountains. I was only in my t-shirt and white shorts, and she was in her white t-shirt and blue shorts, riding her motorcycle, together. It was cold, dark, the only light that emitted was the street lamps and the head lights of her motorcycle. There were other people in their motorcycles here and there, and a few countable cars. Trees aligning, those arrow signs that warns the driver that it was a curve, shining as the headlights of the motorcycle passed by it. I could see a glance of the city lights below, that enough, made a growing happiness and calmness engulf me through the ride. Happy that I was somewhere, out of the place called my suffocating home.

I hadn't imagined riding the night away without telling my mother where I was going. In short, I ran away for a few hours from home. It was too suffocating in the house, it began to feel like a bird cage, where you can see everything but can't go to where you sought. It was a feeling that came back to me again, the feeling of being trapped, being sad, being too loud inside my head that made it much more suffocating.

The cold night air didn't made me cold, but instead it felt like a cold air that brought happiness with it, the sound of the rustling leaves, the sound of the wind howling against my ears, the smell of the ground, the ground where the trees stood tall and big, the sounds that the nocturnal animals make, it made me feel the sense of peace within me. The raging chaos I had been feeling awhile, dissipated. This is what I liked, loved. The mountains, the peak, without anyone trying to tell you things of judgement. Without fear from the people who I feared, without the fear of time, free from fear and weird gazing looks.

As we ride through up the mountains, wind howling, I wanted to spread my arms so wide. But decided against it anyway because I did not want to get shy with her. Although I knew she wouldn't mind it. I just didn't, because. I held onto her waist not so much because I had experience with riding motorcycles before. I felt that she was cold, and I wanted to hug her for warmth, and for the other reason that I just really wanted to hug her. I saw other people on their motorcycles, couples, hugging their boyfriends from the back, but I was too shy. Me being me, the mellow and meek kind, I did not. This was our second time meeting. And this time around, I asked her to take me away from home.

At that time when she was talking, I remembered one of the nicest lines I heard from the The Perfect Date.

"You want to know how you can tell if you're meant to be with someone? Just sit and have a conversation. Some people when you talk to them, it's like trying to listen to classical music on a radio with no antenna. You can push that dial back and forth all you want, but you only get static. But when you're meant to be with someone, and they truly are the one, you just sit, start talking, and a Beethoven sonata will begin to play."

Love, at its finest, does not need to be all sweet and cheesy. Love, at its finest is when the person is just there with you, contented with their presence, just talking about random things, crazy things, even the silent types of conversations where we just look at the view, the city lights that seemed like stars on Earth. Love, is rendering each others presence but at the same time knowing that you both have your own lives to live and lives to live together. Having trust and faith on each other without fear of what she might be doing at that time, or simply, having to know that you are enough.

At that time when she was talking, I remembered one of the nicest lines I heard from the The Perfect Date.

"You want to know how you can tell if you're meant to be with someone? Just sit and have a conversation. Some people when you talk to them, it's like trying to listen to classical music on a radio with no antenna. You can push that dial back and forth all you want, but you only get static. But when you're meant to be with someone, and they truly are the one, you just sit, start talking, and a Beethoven sonata will begin to play."

I realized, staring at the city lights below, as she talked about her life experiences, her exes, the joys, the crazy things they did, I did not want to end my life after all. I still wanted to find that person that would suddenly make a Beethoven sonata play when we talk.

I did not want to waste my time mourning over some sad thoughts I had. I did not want to waste my life always worrying, having fears. I realized, I wanted more, I wanted to see the world, not just from the window of my phone, but through the window of my own eyes. I wanted adventure, memories worth living, a time worth having, love worth finding and a life worth living happily. It would sound selfish to others, it would sound so egocentric. But, opinions are opinions. It's just a matter of choosing whether you want the words to affect you or not, because, truth be told, words don't define who we are. I want to live my life to the fullest, full of memories, things that a computer storage couldn't save, things that makes my life worthwhile.

We die at some point of our lives someday anyway. We can't guess when, we can't say how, and there's a lot of things that life has in store, for us to just end our lives. And we don't want to wait for the end of our own story.

At some point in life, there's always good things in bad things. Some of us might thrive to see the light, some of us might not, and give up. I admit, it's got difficult roads and obstacles. It might be there the second time around to strike you back, but then there's you.

A few lot of people once told me, "You can only fix and find yourself. No one else can, because you know you better than anyone else."

I've always ignored those words. But I still end up with that line at the end of my hook when I find myself looking for my self. Things are difficult, but it's you that matters.

I chose to be happy.

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