Never did he see this coming. Was his heart ready for the inevitable free fall? If he had always predicted his chances were limited, why didn't he put aside a metaphorical parachute on standby? Clutching, he tried to save whatever ounce of self-pride he had lingering within the fragile host of a secluded soul. Deprived of an actual leverage for an opportunity, he dismissed himself.

Ego. It either makes you or breaks you. But it's the very source of one's mental capability that defines how we are seen through the eyes of others. With the physical traits of the almighty lion that smites every miniscule creature within the vicinity, redundant it becomes at the slightest hint if it were to ever portray something similar to a mouse's snivelling.

Wearily, he hobbles into the only direction he's familiar with - home. Where pending thoughts hang around like nooses in a nut house. Filled with regret, he starts doubting his decisions. Has he not learn anything from his past? Has all of his self earned experience been eradicated in a single mishap?

"WHAT WAS I THINKING?" He kept muttering under his hoarse, tear-filled breath. The only thing he has ever gained from his past experiences were nothing but remorse and negativity. Fidgeting his jittery fingers around, in and out, wondering will the spaces in between ever be warm again.  Sadly, the only warmth he'll ever be getting is from the very own friction that his other hand provides, and other misadventures that will fill the void.

Night in, night out, nooses grew exponentially. Try as he might to avoid contact, he'll always find himself staring into another head-fitted loop awaiting to caress his helpless neck and choke him with countless possibilities of 'what if'.

Out of frustration, he ganders at his phone, helpless and hopeless, hallucinations of the impossible. The fight within himself was so great, he started quivering uncontrollably. A possessed being he was, voices of different dialects and perspectives, brims with rhetorical questions.

Resisting as hard as he could, a past that should've been forgotten barges through with a battering ram. He scrolls through the notes they've once exchanged on a frequent basis with regret.  A common passion they shared, only that he had his wedged onto his fragile heart. He listens to it vaguely, as his mind wanders off imagining he was there to witness it all happening. Imagining, waking up to this very sight. Imagining, everything was real.

After several fruitless winks, he somehow manages to trace back his steps. He was filled with the same fiery passion he once had before any of these mishaps. He rushed through the nooses, slowly evaporating as if they were never there. Preparing speeches in his head like he was running for the state. Confident, calm, cool, cocky.

Back at the very same spot, he clenches his heart again. Only this time, it wasnt in his grasp for it had already landed right in between his worn out Vans.

Hand in hand. Eye to eye. Nose to nose. Dejavu was nothing short of a bitch. Stumbling, he found himself in the same position trying to waddle away. Only this time to realize his naive heart went rolling into the forbidden direction. In a blink of an eye, it was flattened by the very shoe that he used to stand close to.

Blurred, he lifted his heavy head to see her smiling brighter than ever before. Laughing ever so joyfully. With her arms wrapped around a bulky chest providing more safety and warmth than he could ever possibly achieve. Devastated, yet he was at peace.

Her smile, may it not be because of him, brought him peace. Her eyes bringing shame to every light refracted off a diamond of any carats. He then saw what she needed was never found in him in the first place. He was nothing but a fragment. A shard.

She on the other hand, found a brand new mystery to unfold, limitless energy to lift her spirits, a reliable fountain of serenity, a valiant accomplice, an idealistic chapter, and a never-ending source of bliss.

He remained still, brooding over a flawless being. Lowering his battered expression, he cupped his face, noticing the bloodied trail of nooses intertwined at his ankle being dragged along for miles.

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