We'll be taking chances, then.

It's floating, this insane feeling. It's floating, perhaps like a feather blown by the unintentional wind to nowhere. I don't know. I don't even know where it's going. It's that difficult.

Probably we'll be taking chances, on whatever that'll happen. It's that difficult.

Would it be a worth it choice? We'll never know. But yes, we'll be together along the way. And I hope it'll last until the very end. Oh just wishful thinking.

We'll take chances. We will.

Mutual I

She lies alone in her bed, reaching her pillows while staring at her phone. In it was a message - a message that a lot of people had been wanting to receive, had been dying to get. It was a message that caused her to smile for so long. She knew it. Finally. The feeling is mutual.

She touches herself, bit by bit. Nobody knew what was going on, what was between them, what they were doing on the night her parents left for Macau. She herself cannot confirm such feelings then. To her it was not odd, but rather it was peculiar. She was uncertain of what it really was, of why it was happening, of how it was occuring to her. She then feels her own lips with her fingers.

She pants slowly. She takes every breath, every part of that beautiful memory, into her as if nothing else would come next. She closes her eyes and tries to visualize that night.

It was dark in the room with only the light of the laptop screen flickering across the two faces that are in front of it, one staring closely at the screen and the other gazing at her.

"Stacey, what are you looking at? Something in my face?"

Stacey grips Anne's face with both hands. She brings it near hers. It was a combination of sudden and slow. They both look into each other's eyes until they close their eyelids at the same time. Stacey places her lips on Anne's. Anne for a second opens her eyes in surprise. She closes it again and savors the moment, as Stacey's fingers travel across Anne's body.

Suddenly, Anne pushes Stacey away from her. It was done. She realized it when it was late. She pushed Stacey even more, putting the latter in a state of shock, then she fled the room and fled the house.

Her fantasy ended when her phone rang. One message from Anne. She impatiently opens it.

"Oh, I'm sorry. The message wasn't for you. Please don't take it seriously. It'll never happen again."

It was wrong. The feeling was false. It wasn't mutual at all.

She gets up in bed. She grabs the blade that rested in her table.

The lights went off.

Terminal: a place where it starts, and where it stops.

Remembering the "then" times, I found my old notebook of fiction and then it made me miss writing stories. Perhaps I'll be back again into it when I get into it.

"We won't go together now. It's time to part ways, Empress," Dane took his bags and stood up. It was some other day, except that people are too busy going everywhere.

"I'm afraid," Empress said.

"Don't," he replied, "Please, don't."

"I'm afraid that you'll never tell me."

"That I love you," Dane stared into her eyes.

"You won't. You never did. You never will."

"I'm sorry. I'm leaving," he turned away, "Goodbye."

"How could you -"

"I'm sorry."

Empress was already sobbing. She watches Dane walk away slowly, slowly towards the departure area. The prince of time gripped the hourglass strongly, almost crushing the glass preventing the sands go down the next ventricle.

"You told me you'll never leave me!"

"That was," Dane said in a whisper, "when things haven't changed yet."

"You told me that you'll be with me when I needed you the most!" Empress shouted, kneeling on the floor, "Dane, I need you!"

"I'm sorry."

Dane stopped walking. He still took a good hold of his bags, not as the spectators in the terminal expect him to drop them. Tears came out of his eyes, which is very rare to happen, though.

Then he utters, "I'm sorry, Empress. I loved you."

It was too soft to hear. He continued on walking. It was a walk as if he was very tired, molto stanco. Someone ran to Empress and helped her stand up from crying hard.

"Daniel, if you won't be responsible for her, I will," James said, "From now on I won't be hesitant to take care of the one I love!"

In his mind, Dane says 'shut up.'

"What a fool are you? You can't just let her go like this. Don't you think you're lucky enough to be loved?"

"Shut up."

"Don't you realize that a lot of people weren't loved by the people they loved?"

"Shut up."

"I could have envied you, Daniel. I could have envied you!"

"Die, James. Die. Now."

"Go away! Leave!" Empress commanded.

"What?" Dane speaks, in his mind.

Daniel added more footsteps and more teardrops. James hugged Empress tight. "Don't cry, I'm here now."

Dane fades away from the glass door. Empress falls into James' shoulder, into slumber. She becomes a child, into the arms of someone she had constantly rejected, but of who she had no choice but to withstand and/or fall in love with.

Does this mean I'm not doing good at all?

There was no sign. Or I suppose there was, it was just that I wasn't paying attention to it much at all. Or maybe I didn't care. Whatever, whichever way, I do not know.

I do not know why most people prefer other people to be certain, dead point certain. What's with certainty that makes them satisfied, after all this commotion?

I don't like certainties, I guess. Or only most of the times, it is. Then maybe certainty hated me by then, giving me uncertainties to live by. There's no point at all. Who wants to know what is bound, what is changeable? What's the reason for attempting to straighten out things, to follow a plan, to obey rules? What is the absolute? What is not? What do we need? What do we not need?

Argh.

This is only an attempt to strike through philosophy. I know. I don't have that organized mind much. I need to improve my thinking.