While I was cleaning up my room, I found a small piece of art by my late grandfather Teodoro Caja. I thought, I also like make an art, not copying this but in the art of writing. This is a first after how many months-or years of just writing about beauty, makeup or travel. This one’s different, this one’s what you would not expect from someone like me.
I’m taking inspiration of my writing from this painting. An apple sliced into two pieces, a knife that separated those beautiful juicy fresh apple, and a cup of coffee. If I may, I want to signify the apple with two individuals. So here goes.
May I have a slice of your time? Where are you when I needed you the most? Do I need to be a damsel in distress to get your precious time and attention? My my, here goes a woman again, asking for attention. But what can we do? We’re girls.
From not seemingly two distant places we chased each other, wanting that slice of your life and a slice of my life to yours. Now, we’re just like an apple, sliced, cut, separated into two when what we have is but a short distance, just far enough to be separate, closer even! But here we are separated.
What’s it like to be in the slice of your life again? I don’t know if you are still interested in a slice of my life. For more than two blissful years, I never felt this bad, like really bad. Wave after wave of emotions. I sometimes could not control and even a cup of coffee cannot calm me down (oh ya I know, that will cause me palpitation).
I see myself just like an apple, just waiting to be rotten, waiting for the right time to be with you. Is it too much to ask on your day-off (to put it straight)?, I thought you already understood from the last fight. I never thought that time would be an issue for us.
I wonder, where’s that man? Man enough to give up a slice of his life to me. Someone who does not make me the last option. I know that family and God are the first options. What number am I on your list, if I may ask? On a slice of a day in your life, even at your most convenient time, would you want a slice of my time? A hug, a coffee out, or a walk down Session road, a walk at the park?
I feel like what we have is about to rot. Yes, like that apple sliced into two in the painting above. I wonder, again, where’s that man who wouldn’t make me the last priority? And will not reason out that he kept texting me, because, boy, that is not counted.
When you’re ready to give me a slice of your time, I’m just a few kilometers away from that valley you live in. Have a cup of coffee with me, won’t you? A slice of an apple with me if you may, is that too much to ask?