FIX YOU

Midnight falls and your Winamp still plays the same song. You enjoy it in silence, neither the lyrics nor the melodies verbalized in your lips. We exchange a glimpse but it explains much. The way we look each other, the way this stillness emerges.

“I will try to fix you,” said Coldplay in the Winamp. Thirty minutes with the same sequence of tones and that ‘I will try to fix you’ suddenly becomes a mantra. I’ve been getting used to read metaphors in your eyes, in your gestures.  I believe – instead of, directly tell me what you feel – you set it up in purpose, didn’t you?

I muse on what’s been happening with us. Six months, started with an unexpected occasion. There you were, tricked me with a very sanguine smile. I don’t know you did that to merely impress me or you were showing the other side of you. Six months, and I eventually found you more phlegmatic-melancholic.

This hush is getting stiller and the “I will try to fix you” sounds more intimidating. Being accused for unknown mistakes, feeling guilty for something I don’t even realize. And you choose silence to explain it.

“Lights will guide you home and ignite your bones…” I dig more into the lyrics and find it is more encouraging rather than teasing. Feeling, I went nowhere. It was you who live your own world, creating boundaries so there’s no way for me to enter. But even if you assume I go somewhere else, I see no lights you ignite to guide me home. Or perhaps, I am already color blind as you inflamed green light but I saw it blue.

We exchange another glimpse and there’s a flash in your eyes. It bewitches me to stay still, steals alphabets out of my head, and fulfills me with ‘I will try to fix you’. For God sake, don’t lead me into resentment. But there you are, acting like a judge for any mistakes I don’t even know.

Tracing the last six months and I find everything’s just fine, I guess. I don’t intend to blame you for choosing metaphors to articulate your hearts as I see nothing’s wrong on them, perhaps. And blaming the universe of providing a space for us to be together is negligible. The only thing I know is we were there, at the same space and time, exchanging same senses I falsely interpreted as love.

I think… I will try to fix myself by listening ‘I will try fix you’ more frequently.