Make Me Feel

I always meet her in a bus stop near my apartment.

She and I were those types of people who never stood out - it seems to me that we have sunk in the sea of monochrome, blending in our routines and many other people who came and went in this big city. With watches around our wrists and a constant habit of checking the time, we never stray from the stiff daily life we have set for ourselves. And because of that, we always end up in the bus stop together. It's funny how close the physical distance between people can be, yet their souls feel so distant. Before you know it, the bus comes, and it was over for the day.

Or maybe it's just me.

Her bus comes after mine. It occurred to me that I do examine her while waiting for the bus. She has auburn hair which she ties in a quick bun, and her usual beige coat that she wears no matter what weather it is. A while later, my bus arrives, and I go off to work.

I'm nothing much, really. I'm just a man in his mid twenties who has no intention of living his life to the fullest.

This morning, I wake up five minutes before my alarm goes off, like I always do. I take a shower and prepare myself. I only make myself coffee, since I really can't be bothered to have full breakfast. I eat lunch outside, and I only cook for dinner when I'm in the mood. Even with unhealthy eating habits, I have no history of passing out at work.

I make my way down the apartment building once I'm done with my morning rituals. This morning is really damp - it must have rained all night. It comes off with this particular scent, and to be honest, it is quite pleasant. It reminds me of nature and trees and all, and it puts a bit of peace in my mind. I wonder why I noticed this. It's strange enough for myself. Maybe this only happens once in a while, I don't know. It hasn't rained for so long.

I walk to the bus stop that's only two minutes away. The scent still exists as I stand under the bus stop, and I assumed that it has rained all over the area. She's already there waiting for the bus before I come, and we're usually the only people around in this hour, so we stand side by side in dead silence.

I breathe slowly and deeply, trying to get my mind to fully wake up as I consume the pleasant smell that lingers in the morning air.

"Isn't this a great morning?"

A voice breaks me off my trance, and it took me a few seconds to realize that it was her voice. I turn to look at her awkwardly. "I guess so. It smells nice."
"It's called petrichor." She tells me as she looks straight ahead.
I only nodded. I'm not quite the social type, and I thought that we're going to end up in silence again, but she saved it. "It comes from the ground. It's been dry for so long, and now the rain comes..."
"Ah," I nodded again. I'm ashamed to have forgotten that fact, or I have been so ignorant all the time. "I see."
She laughed a little. "I'm sorry to be so random."
"Oh, no, there's no problem at all," I say. "I'll be glad to have a conversation."
"Really? I'm relieved," she smiles.
There's a small silence before I speak again. "To be honest, it's the first time I noticed this petrichor."
She agrees, keeping her polite smile. "Sometimes, the best way to make your day better is to pay attention to the little pleasant details around you."

What she just said hits me in the face.

From that second, something feels different. A spark of life lights up within me, even though it's small.

This woman isn't what I thought she is.

I want to talk to her more, but her bus arrives right after she said it. She excuses herself, and I stand alone in the bus stop again.



Because of that morning, my day became more interesting. I began to examine my co-workers, the life in the street, the big events of a person's life that nobody ever notices.

As I ride a bus on my way home, I keep myself glued to the window. A lady is walking down the street in black clothes. A man declares his love for a woman. I never knew that there's so much of the world to see, only if I don't get busy with my phone every time.

I get off the bus when it arrives and walk back home. As I end my day, I feel fascinated on how her words influenced me so much. Heck, I haven't even asked her name.

I have to talk to her again tomorrow.



From that day, we began to have conversations every morning. In a few weeks we became friends, and on free time we meet up in a small comfortable cafe. We agreed that we'd meet up again because it's the only thing that separates us from the stress in our lives.

I learned that her name is Alice, and she works as a teacher.

It went on for a few months before I confessed to her.

We've been happier ever since.



It's already been nearly a year since Alice became my girlfriend.

We build our lives for the better. Because of her, I gradually became more alive. I wasn't afraid anymore to break the rules I have made for myself. I have more courage to speak to people. I began to feel that my life is worth living up to, and there's just so many things to do before it's too late. Especially because there's her by my side now.

She is the reason I feel alive. It's like as if she gave me a part of her spirit, and I came back to life almost immediately. She is the reason I can enjoy the gloomy days of pouring rain, or the strong wind that messes up the pages of the book I'm reading. I cherish the good days and get over the bad ones. I know I'm exaggerating. But I know I'm happy because of that. I haven't been this well since childhood.

Alice is my reason to live.



It is a warm Friday afternoon. I walk with her side by side as we go down the crowded lit up streets, preparing themselves for the night where the lights of the city fight off the upcoming darkness. We are searching for a good restaurant to have dinner in, since both of us have spare time for today.

We pass by a small park when I notice that she's breathing heavily. "Are you alright?"
"I'm... fine." She gave me a weak smile.

How can she be fine? Her face is incredibly pale. Fortunately, there's a bench nearby, and I tell her to sit down. She refuses, insisting that she's fine, but of course I don't believe her. I gently hold her shoulders and lead her to sit down on the bench, but suddenly I feel her getting heavier until I realize that she'd fainted.

I almost burst out in panic, so I tell myself to calm down and call an ambulance as a reaction to the panic (I'm weird like that). There's nothing I can do for now, so that's the best idea to do. Soon enough, I arrive in the hospital, my heart beating fast.

Is everything going to be okay?



No matter how many times I've been through it, waiting is the only thing I hate in the world. Especially waiting with uncertainty.

I sit on a chair in an uncomfortable position, shifting every minute, waiting for the news that never seem to come. Finally I am told that I can see her, and I am led to the room where Alice is resting.

I stand in silence as the doctor explains to me. Alice had a serious illness all along, but attacks happen to her less frequent until it only happens once in a while. I only nod to his explanation and say a quiet thank you when he decides to leave. And not long after, we are alone in her room.

"Hey..." I hear her voice weakly calling me.
I turn and sit beside her, caressing her hair. "How do you feel?"
"I'm hungry."
"I'll go out to buy you dinner... I know hospital food sucks," I say. And then I remember that I need to be worried - because I really am worried. "Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?"
"I'm... sorry." She says, quietly. "I'm really sorry. Now I'm getting you worried. I thought I didn't have to tell you because I thought it's nothing too serious and I felt like I'm getting better and suddenly-"
"Alice, calm down. It's okay. I'm not angry." I really am not. It's strange. All I feel is worry and insecurity, but not anger.
She buries her face in her free hand. "This is all my fault."
"Don't blame yourself," I say. "Now you should stop worrying about me. Worry about yourself. I'm sure you'll get better and get out of here and we'll continue our lives like we usually do. I believe in you."

I think I said that last bit not only to support her, but to support myself, too.

She nods sadly. "Thanks... I'm so happy to have you."
"Me too," I rise from the chair and kiss her forehead. "I'll go and buy some food. See you."
"See you."

I walk out of the room and into the long white corridors, worry and hope both clinging on my shoulders.



I'm allowed stay with her until she gets discharged, since she has nobody else close enough other than me nearby.

Alice fell asleep fast and a while after I realize that I have insomnia. It's been ages since I found it hard to fall asleep. I end up listening to the footsteps from the corridor outside, the nonstop ticking of the clock, and other little background sounds that you might never notice unless in total silence. Since her words on our first conversation in the bus stop, I developed a habit of noticing details. I sort of get distracted that way.

A machine beeps steadily and monotonically, telling me that her heart still beats, but I feel like I shouldn't really mind because there's no way in hell it will stop.

Yeah. I can't wait until she's discharged.



"Good morning."

I wake up to her voice, and I find myself sleeping on my own crossed arms, bending over to rest on the side of her bed. "Good morning."
"Don't tell me you didn't sleep well," she tilts her head at me.
"I can't lie to you," I say with a half smile.
"Now you should stop worrying about me," she says, repeating the words I told her the night before. "Worry about yourself."
"Alice, that's childish."

She laughs. It's relieving.

"Hey, can you please get me some water?" She asks.
"Sure," I say. "Well, we ran out of water, so I'll get more outside. I'll be right back."
"Hang on." She says when I stand up, holding my wrist gently.
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
"Why, all of a sudden?"
"Come on, don't tell me you're more shy than me?"
"I love you too." I say as I hold her hand.

We stay like that for a few more seconds, and then she let go and I walk out through the door.

When I come back, I see her sleeping again in her bed. I put down what I bought on a small table. Everything looks normal, and I feel fine...

...except that there's this kind of ringing in the air.

It's a single never ending beep.

"Alice?" I call out as I approach her bed, getting louder and louder each time I call her name. "Alice? I got water. Alice?"

I keep my back against the door, even when lots of people come in and start crowding over her. I don't know what I'm exactly doing after that, because they have to drag me away, and I just find myself screaming out her name. Why do I have to scream out? It doesn't make sense. Nothing seems real, and everything feels like it's going too quick. The next second I find myself freezing like a statue, unable to decipher what's going on.

It doesn't make sense.



I can't even answer an obvious question I keep repeating to myself.

If she's the most lively person I've ever known, then why did her heart stop beating?



It's been three days after her funeral.

For three days, I felt nothing. I feel numb all over except for the deep aching inside my chest every time I wake up in the morning. I don't care what weather or day it is. I don't care on what my friends tell me anymore. Everything feels so distant, as if I'm looking at my surroundings from a thick fog. I can't even bother to try and feel again. I run my daily activities like an emotionless android - precise, on time, but with no feelings at all.

I have lost my reason to live.

Today I follow my old routines. I go to work, distract myself with my tasks, and zoning out with an empty mind when I have nothing left to do.

I still have a tiny a part of me who supports living life to the fullest, but it couldn't lift me up anymore. Instead, it pities me. People who gave up living could turn to things that they thought can stop the sadness, but I just end up getting even more dissolved in my work. I'm slowly disappearing by grief. It's worse than anything at all. Now I'm just an empty, hollow shell without anything to live for.

"This is no way to live," I say as I walk out of my workplace. I don't even care if someone hears it.

That's why I plan to walk home without taking any public transportation for today.

I walk down the evening street, passing that small park that we passed days ago. Something smells extremely familiar, and I realize that it is the scent of rain on dry earth - petrichor. Nostalgia hits my brain, and I breathe in and out several times, trying to relive the memories where everything changed. I stop when it starts to hurt so much.

What a fortunate day. Everything is perfect.

I turn to look at the other side of the road. It's far away since the road is really wide, but I see shops and thousands of people walking one way and the other. Between me and the side across me, runs a very busy and noisy traffic. So many cars pass by so fast, it's really impossible to cross without a proper zebra cross. It's really dangerous. People should be careful.

I place one foot ahead of me, stepping out of the pavements. I continue walking across calmly and normally. There's no need to rush.

I don't stop walking.