i've always insisted that i am the psychic and you are the lowly mortal. it appears i'm not and you've known all along... and you are a demi-god, and you never told me? hah.

when was the last time you've thought of me? i've so much wanted to know but am afraid to ask because i might not be able to bear the truth. i have always been "the pillar of strength" to those who know me--what would happen if i crumble right before your eyes?

i've walked alone for quite a long time already, and many have asked to walk me home--i preferred to be alone.

i say, i will never admit to your face that you are the patch of light in the darkness that i walk in. no. not in a million years. nor will i admit that the sound of my message alert tone makes me hold my breath and wish that you're the one who's there to "bother" me.

you taught me of the importance of waiting and being rational. what if the wait is in vain? still i wait.

i hate waiting. no, i abhor waiting.

tell me, are you worth the wait? or should i pick myself up and move on?

if i am psychic, i would know what to do right now... or where you are. are you having fun? do you think of me? or are you too busy again?

i sound pathetic. but even those who jeer at me for thinking this way could not honestly say they haven't asked that question too, so screw them, i'm asking it anyway.

i don't need superhero attempts. i just need a sign... a sign that you are worth the wait. or else, i'm gonna pack my things and go.

please don't make me wait too long.

here, i wait...

...but till then, i walk alone.

naked feet padded their way on the moist tiled floor. an occasional strand of stray hair tangles with the pinky toe, but remained ignored.

hanging the towel at the hook on the wall, i peered at the face that looked back at me on the wall mirror. gawd, you look awful, i thought.

shedding off the last pieces of clothing, manipulating the dials of the temperature of the shower, snatches of conversations with people flashed in and out of my head.

turning the knob, i felt the first few drops of lukewarm water jolt me from the remnants of sleep. then the warmth of the water covered me, and was my first source of comfort today.

mechanical rituals of lathering, then i thought of the day ahead. is there much to look forward to? gee, i dunno. when was the last time i hummed a tune just to get the task of showering done and be out there to meet the day? i didnt bother to answer... the question left my mind as the water rinsed out the last traces of shampoo from my hair.

i watched the white swirls dancing by my feet, then i noticed the tangled strand of hair, trying to move with the water but can't because it somehow was stuck at my pinky toe. i poured water on my feet and watch the strand move with the water, slowly, gracefully with the foamy swirls...

a piece of me has just went down the drain.