The sound of the fax machine woke me from a trance. I was daydreaming again. It wouldn't be the first. I've been daydreaming a lot the past few days. I looked out the window. Dark clouds are forming. It's going to rain soon. The world is starting to turn grey. It's the kind of weather I like the most. I like how everything seem to grow dull, somewhat monochromatic, before it starts raining. I rose from my chair and walk toward the window. I like observing the people below. They look like tiny ants in a colony, though ants are probably more organized and synchronized. Some are already holding up their umbrellas. Others are basically running around to get to their destinations before this rain hits. A few are just casually strolling, not caring about the weather at all. Everybody is minding their own business, doing their own thing. They are all doing something different. It was chaotic. The one thing they all have in common is they have a purpose, a goal. One person was running so she wouldn't be late to work. A student was holding her umbrella up because her books might get wet. A couple was just casually strolling, probably enjoying the very little time they have together. They are all doing something. Everybody seemed busy. Not like me.
I turned to look around the office. I have a job. I have something to do. I am busy, most of the time. But is this really my purpose in life? Could life have gone differently if I made the other choice? These questions keep haunting me. I always have food to eat and a roof above my head, but is this all there is to it? To life? Am I happy? Even I don't know for sure. I've never really asked myself this. I was afraid of the answer I've always known for a long time. If I could turn back time, will I be able to grab his hand and never let go? Will I? I know these "what ifs" are not something I can answer, simply because they're "what ifs". We can never know how things turn out to something that has never happened. It's like giving an answer without learning the equation.
I walked back to my desk and gave a sigh sitting down. I looked at my reflection in the small desk mirror. I've got a couple of wrinkles and my eyebags look like they're bigger than my eyes. After giving another sigh, I went back to my unfinished work for the day. My hands hurt a lot. I've been working too much today I feel like my muscles are torn. Then, I incidentally caught a glimpse of the string bracelets from a long time ago. They were from him. I've been hanging them on my desk lamp all this time. I reached for them and held them gently in my hands. They're special to me. The only things to remind me of my younger and peaceful years. I could not resist wearing them. They still fit. They didn't change. But I have. I have changed in so many ways. I took them off and put them in the drawer. They remind me too much of all the beautiful memories. And I hate it. I hate those.
It has started raining. I didn't even notice it.
Good night RC.