Twenty, Insomnia

Did the winter move away,
That pale, blue outline of melting snow,
That echo of all voices with dismay?
Or am I too late for such a show?

With a candle in hand, I took at remains,
At all traces, books, and the naked tree.
The shadow of candle flickers, oh, my pains!
In the depth of this hole, it is past and me.

My soul is exasperated by oblivion slightly,
And I carry a list of undreamed vision.
And there is a final, but visible halt in my nightly
Visits to insomnia, those ashes, the dull world of decision.
*
How Anna was asked to make a decision, an open and wise resolution! How she was asked to change everything with his choice! No, she did not have the courage to tell him: "No, I can't don't it." She did not have the dauntlessness to leave or stay; and she did not dare to tell him: "Exist, and be quiet. If this is your defense, It can't be mine." She told him, nevertheless.
"I have the impression that you use your inflexible purpose against what you can't fight."
There was this terrible destitution, scare, and dullness in his eyes from what he had experienced. His glance penetrated nowhere. He was disassociated from life which dishonored his body, all the organs in that body that once had been healthy. Savor that had lost his taste. He was a man that still physically alive but internally was long dead. He had faced the most painful punishment anyone could encounter. He was forgotten; or at least that was how he perceived it. Delight now was an attribute he freely considered hateful.
His soul had changed to be venomous against everything for this unfair disrespect to his body. While the world beyond his bed prospering in its worth, virile people flowering far from death. He foresaw his death; and that discernment exalted his unnatural life with perplexity, and disgust. He closed his eyes so as no one could see his expression of forbidden loathsomeness.
An indefatigable sympathy often grew in Anna when she looked at him or spoke to him, hoping for an answer. Those colorless moments of life seemed like a rare dream; nonetheless, it was a dream that Anna had to live with it with her dying husband, Joseph.
*
Steve knew that Anna meant well and hard it was for her to express herself; for her ritual had been to suppress her desires and not to speak of them. Anna wished she could find the courage to bring out the words which were hard to come out to satisfy him and herself. He wanted to wipe away her pain from that darkness of holding. When they were together, she unwillingly challenged him to run him away; and when they were apart, she missed him and wanted to be with him. Steve recognized all these; however, he had a hard time to change her or to make her understand that she needed to be honest with herself.
Stacy observed all of these; nonetheless, she was increasingly involved in her own life and a medical student she had recently met. When two friends talked about their dates, Anna recognized how Stacy was flowing with the current; and Stacy realized how Anna swimming against the flow. What frightened Stacy more than anything else was that Anna might cause her brother to run away from her for the second time. Stacy found Anna's behavior incredulous.
"What is it you want in your life? Don't you like my brother?"
Anna was not shy anymore to hide her feelings for Steve from Stacy.
"Yes, I like him a lot, but I also have my volition."
"Then, what is it that keeping you from having a free will?"
Anna thought for a moment. She did not know the answer. She was not sure why she behaved the way she did when she was with Steve. "I don't know, Stacy. I am puzzled myself."
"Do you want to lose him again?'
"No, but I am still torn between staying here or going back home. My parents expect me to go back since I'd already told them."
"People do change. You can tell them that you want to stay and finish your higher education which is not a lie. Tell them you need to get some more experience here. Give yourself a little more time. Don't rush things. Why everything with you have to be this way or that way, nothing else?"
Anna frowned. She did not have any answer to a very true statement of Stacy. Her silence was more deadly than any destructive talk. Stacy sighed and gazed at her, as though she wanted to bring out an answer out of her forcefully.
"It seems to me that you like a hard life. You like problems and you like to solve problems of others all the time; and if there isn't any, you look for one." Stacy talked with frustration.
"Is this how you think of me, Stacy? Someone that searches for problems?" She looked pale and gloomy. Then she continued: " I don't look for problems. I think my existence is about thinking and living for life. I don't turn my face away from it but I face it. This is the meaning of life for me. I don't justify life only in its problem."
"What is achieved by thoughts," Stacy retorted: "always stays with us. An idea that is attained by thought always remains, whether is a stable or a dangerous idea. Bad thoughts bring bad feelings. If you only think about bad ones, you will lose your strength to confront the good ones."
Anna's heat beat unnaturally fast. She thought that no one is ever given a life by choice. She knew that she was constantly creating new thoughts to avoid inevitable; and it was all these inescapable thinking that had consisted her life. Rivalry was turning to be virulent to her. Life around her seemed all wrong. She roamed frivolously the morning, the afternoon, and all the evening of the life until she could neither think nor feel; and lastly at night, when the sadness was at its highest point and peak, she would settle down in numbness or walk long distance until she would come to places that she did not know. She wished time moved faster for directing her to a resolution. Nevertheless, in her dreams she was easily overcoming all the obstacles on her way.

To Be Continued