Everything started in grey at that night. The cloud wasn't fading, sunny moon didn't even rised a clue of the lame vision. The mosquitos drift through, follow the wind flow into the thread of the door's gap. In the room of million-hundred pixels, I centered sat in bed with the heat that gave me no idea of living.
A fan was truly friend for me that night, it was accompany me to rape my smoke twice faster until the last pack feel like second. Made a dilematic analogy in the concept of waste; whether it is a good thing to make those smokes fastly raped by the wind that keep my heart healty or it is a worst act to rape the pack fastly and have no respect to money? Feel kinda same as my living concept was now. Did I did wrong? Everything wasn't turning wistful-black nor whiteful-bright. It was absolutely grey.
....
At the first, my phone was ringing but I believe not for me exactly. In a mobile-app-group people were chating, sharing ideas, throwing cheesy jokes to make every minute feels better and far from a bluelyness. Some deep inside heart cured, some the past story accrued. Ignoring them and stay in the blue is kind my habbit that was. It was kind a machosist enjoying the hurt situation until its get rusted. Heart in my case.
At the second, my silly-never-be-smart-phone was ringing. And my heart had a different respond upon that. Something come to the surface of my black- touch-screen -android phone. The number that I had been deleted appeared like an oil in the water, every digit was contrastly remain, flies in my mind from nescience.
I took that call and heard a gently voice that I never forget. How can I forget the voice that always bring me sleep in the older days. Word by word designed to touch the fragilest part of my chest. It was directly pointed about a honest feeling of person's mind, and very-well knitted into my personal perception.
At that time my heart was exploding like a new year beacon and my brain was wizzling like the dizzieness never been cured by a distance as my current life-time. I wasn't sure about my feeling, but my real shape was keep moving. The grey was turning into wobbly saturation, unstablely.
Exactly in that night, my emotion gave me drive through the blury path of destination. My instinct feel like crap but that was sharp enough to draw a right line. I keep go through in that land of blind, in the summer that really-trully dry. Once a sec who gonna guess that soon rain will fall cover the street with reflection? I told you, that was summer-fucking-summer but the rain never fell that hard as the older night, I don't know why. It feel like the heat of this city was fading down by rain. The traffic straight clear into destination. Like realm was playing with my emotion.
I noted this. That night I was driving like hell to go there. With no option in mind, no need second opinion. Even still blurry, that night feel so bold, the realm quite made the impression up. I hadn't felt romantic for all these years, it was very close to the epic feeling in my experience.
Finally I drop there, met there by the complicated things right in the front of the door. Heart was beating, the door getting bigger, I felt so small as bean in the my morning meal. Here me, standing infront of the undefined future that just limited by a single gap of the door. A hand moved make a sound, door opened, met by an inch toward her nose. The hearts were calmly beating in the quiet night. That sopping wet robe, the pimples wasn't a big deal. My body just slide into the wall and lazy posture seems like me was trying to make a denial impression, the soul like calmly out of my grip.
It was her face that I missed, I looked own heart sparkling toward it up. Covering the weakness perception of logical's me and changed it into fully emotion. Ground started to be rose's red. Those nails into the texture of the wodden brown door. White dots into the pink of her cloth. Shiny orange was the ambience that mix all the colors up that night. The grey washed-out, bright into color of warm. Harmless.
....
That was raining summer night. I feel like thousand day burned into this night, it was all just for that one day of confession. Kiss never be leapt as love as it be, but the cry as hard as that rain's drop that summer - touching to the heart, of our mind. Even my heart still the same and was never feel sure, we were trying together. Another day again.
The end was started in of summer's rain when the ash washed-out.
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