Tangled Thoughts in Midnight Blue

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DEDICATED TO SOMEONE WHO’LL NEVER BE OURS.

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Tangled Thoughts in Midnight Blue

by Jericho Tan

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Prologue I have dreamt about you many times.

The moment I wake up, I say a prayer for you.

I murmured lines and rehearsed verses I thought we would share.

I fantasised every moment being with you.

Memories are alive.

They are dynamic.

But there are connections we can’t force.

So I would rather be standing here than losing you in a crowd-filled auditorium.

- 1 -

2:30 pm.

T

he afternoon is bleak.

Zephyrous northward winds are sweeping through the alleys and rivers of the neighborhood.

Hailed a cab. Thanked him for his service.

A coffee shop.

Fragments of untold memories and bittersweet happiness linger in the air.

His eyes cry for help and sadness.

Head rested on my shoulders, and mine to his, fingers spread out with a half-smile behind.

- 2 -

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Flashes of darts, like the speed of light take aim at my melancholy heart when he utters each time the name of someone else.

Knowing that my name wasn't engraved in his mind and body, that it belonged to someone else, brings a deeper ache— one that he can't call his own or embrace with much thought.

- 3 -

7:00 pm.

D

ark streets and intersections hued by incandescent lights: tangerine, crimson, and teal.

Walking past grey corridors of a busy metropolis.

Neon lights, strawberries.

We both hold our bags with concealed emotions as the early evening is tinged with the deep blue of a sky ready to slumber.

The rhythm of footsteps echo and intertwines with the distant hum of traffic, creating a symphony of urban life.

- 4 -

Each passerby carries their own story.

They are hidden behind the facade of comings and goings.

The moon had not yet risen, so I said; The sun is yet to set.

They say, during twilights, corporeal and preternatural becomes one; but the air awaits, an energy tranquil filling the void.

It's in this fleeting moment, amidst the pulsing city beat, that our shared journey seems to pause, hanging in the balance of unspoken words and uncharted paths.

- 5 -

8:30 pm.

U

nder the moon's gentle beams, our weary hearts find solace.

A million lights, a million faces.

As the night teems with life— be it crawling, flying, walking, or running— it is his eyes, his mouth, his body, his misty air, and his warmth that I yearn for.

Silence envelops me.

I can only stay here so you can soar.

I can only look from behind so you can be your own.

- 6 -

10:00 pm

A

camaraderie takes shape.

Faces erupt from my Polaroid with seemingly rueful grin accompanied by thundering voices.

A moment passes through.

Then, my heart picked up its pen and paper to write his untold anecdote and his unwritten thought.

Intent.

Keen.

The paintbrush of my ears are ready to tint the papers of my mind.

- 7 -

His heart revealed shards of broken glass from many things he held dear and loved so much he held it against his own.

He held a flower withering away while standing in a field of plum and cotton-tails.

His eyes now carry a more resigned expression, empty and void lost and wondering.

His words commanded my full attention.

His body reclined unto mine but my soul reclined to his.

No letter or sound from his lips dropped wasted; I was a sponge, soaking his tears.

- 8 -

12:00 am

W

e venture into outer space, sharing a flight towards the stars.

However, I can only wonder and gaze, knowing he wouldn't return the same wonder.

The moon seems closer than ever before but remains beyond grasp.

My prayer remains so if you ever think fondly of me, pondering how I'm doing?

My prayer remains so to permit me to wrap my arms and sing you a lullaby— the devout candor we all desire: to be wished.

- 9 -

2:00 am

F

reezing cold, I stand undressed.

Gazing up at the quiet night.

Skyscrapers replaced the stars.

Standing, sitting.

Inhaling, exhaling.

With much hesitation, it feels like light touching upon light, color upon color, melody upon melody.

While all things were quiet and the night was in the midst of her course, his lips glossed on verses; - 10 -

His lips began a hymn of how he felt electrified by someone’s presence: ingrafted, rooted, unrivalled, adored.

These were all true honesty like a birdsong only heard by a few.

But it was a song intended for someone else.

His heart breaks, solemnly pronouncing an elegy that only we can hear, how that someone was indeed his theme his joy his triumph and his love.

- 11 -

I tried to keep with my whole being those piercing swords ripping through me, or that I felt a bucket of cold, sitting ice has been poured over all my body.

A minute’s silence passed like a grieving widow makes her step down the pulpit.

Finally, the tongues of the bells blessed his ears with some well-rounded words; but a cacophony of some sort ringing with truth.

It seemed like a funeral, a celebration of something, or a conclusion of the day's tenor.

A sigh— a heavy one, A prayer like mine— he repeated.

- 12 -

4:00 am

W

ith half-open eyes I saw someone leaving.

As the sun is set to rise I finally screamed at the top of my lungs letting a single soul hear the groaning, this lamentation: I have whispered your name to the wind; I have shouted your name at the mountaintops; I have written your name across poems and odes; I have sung your name on countless songs of the heart; I have and did all these things: "Non, je ne regrette nen..."

- 13 -

The hollow streets heard my anguish and the cool morning breeze carried it away.

I wish to breathe new air so that when the sun comes up the weighty fog of unspoken words and fantasies abound would dissipate in the air.

There, my earnest plea, that just maybe, you'll turn back, that you'll hear the echoes of my heart reaching out to you.

- 14 -

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