The Soul's Subconscious

Chapter 1

Dear who,

Dear souls

It is at this moment when I know I should hold on. This isn't me. I know. I am stronger than this. I have always been... until this day. I shall be though. I keep repeating this day to day.

I am starting to hate the empty days. Well, at least that's what I call holidays. It's monotone. I sigh. From where to where... wow. I think back my past. This has happened before, I have felt quite the same before and now I feel like I am living it again. It hurts.

"I won't love anyone anymore, at least till I finish studying," I promised to myself. How can I do that to myself?

But it was unexpected my inner soul calls out. To love is not bad. To lose hope is bad and not being able to stay strong is bad and giving up is bad and... Shut up. My subconscious interferes with my inner soul sometimes. I don't know whether it is because it is hating or jealous, or just plain logical. But my inner soul never tries to give in to my subconscious, though sometimes being the most merciful, it agrees with my subconscious at certain times.

Anyway, you've lost time says my subconscious. I smirk at it. But only because I know that's right. I have lost valuable time.

No, don't give up. Nothing's too late! shrieks my inner soul. That's right too. And here. I'm stuck in between again. I can't free my mind or soul. Both of my friends, inner soul and subconscious, have one thing in common. The thought process. They think about love. However, the inner soul doesn't dare questioning love. How dare?

My subconscious is always up to something though.

I look into his eyes deeply. There it is. I am an expert in analysing these stuff... if it was only up to me my subconscious turns wild.

My inner soul rages with fury. It's afraid.

Poor soul.

I turn to look at him again. His black charcoal hair, entwining with the other curls of strands of hair. His eyes, small but reflects a mirror of love? It's gold to me. The light side burns that reach nearly to his lips but stay on the jaw. His face is full of puzzles. Questionable. What makes it even questionable is his body language. Maybe... I think... maybe I hate him because of something called the body language and that he owns one. His eyes are fine. Pure. Truthful. Hopeful. Eager. But his body my subconscious snaps is one dangerous mechanism that can fool any feminine soul. Even though his intentions are different. I can see... looking at his eyes... he doesn't mean to flirt about. His eyes and body sign mismatch yelps my inner soul.

Keep hoping woman! I tell myself. Go with the flow. You are meant to. And if you are meant to be, it will be. Believe in yourself and take care. You are strong and no one will ever need to look down on you with the fury you have. Because you know what's right and what's wrong.

Just watch out... that's all I'm saying, speaks out my subconscious slyly.

And there I am, in the now, fixed. Between the clouds and the soil. I have no desire getting too high or too low. I need to figure this out. You will figure it out, both say.

I stroll down the stairs. The music room full of instruments await me. It's like they're beside me and pleading for me to hold on and never give up. Everytime I press the white notes and he presses the black notes, it's like the piano sings with joy and there is harmony in both of us. Yes, I guess mostly, music and piano is the one excuse to really bond us together. Does he feel that too? always questioning, my subconscious questions.

He does! my inner soul says. He may... my subconcious continues. I am... wait... who am I without love? both question this time.

Who am I?