2 sides 2 a coin

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(Heads)
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I am an indecisive person, imprisoned by my own fears yet at the same time, running amok with the wonderment of curiosity. It’s not so much as living with the regret of making a bad decision, as fulfilling my desire to experience more of life. I have become a shiny coin – irrevocably flat on both faces, yet with a circumference that goes round and round like the earth on its axis. I can say one thing but mean another; I can feel genuinely yet the words can come out all wrong.
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In fits of confusion, I’ve tossed a coin and let fate decide which route I take. I admit it is pathetic; my freewill gradually lost like the decrescending clinks of a piece of metal. Heads or tails. It wouldn’t matter, my tail would hide between my legs and my head might as well be licking the tarmac of destiny.
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I don’t toss nor turn anymore, having taken to heart the initiative to accept every invitation that comes my way and live with the things I’ve learned in the process. Everything hands-on versus the mere flick of a finger.
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After lending my pesos, I couldn’t believe I’d keep the pieces returned to me.
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(Tails)
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Since the time I’ve started avoiding Joeboy and Luke a few months ago, all I’ve heard are stories of failure and immaturity. One loses his job over the need for creative control, the other hardly graduated from college and, from what I’ve heard, hasn’t been doing well at work; Stories about constant bickering over issues of fidelity and affection, alienation from their friends who’ve chosen to avoid them, the incontrovertible breakup that’s predicted to happen but has not, all in all, the probable result of an over-stimulated sense of insecurity stemming from the lack of communication between people who like talking about other people when they’re bored. And so it goes, this side of the coin had become tarnished with a one-sided story from people with the privilege of singlehood.
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Yesterday, I received a text message invite to join these two friends over dinner, nothing fancy, just a bit of catching up and perhaps an attempt on their part to flip the coin towards their favor. They were happy, truly happy. I had observed this from the same room I filmed my movie in. The room was still a mess, which for me, was a symbol of roommates who are comfortable enough with all their dirt out in the open. The mattress was on the floor. The antique chest now had family photos, graduation portraits, and artwork. They had a yellow lamp switched on and while we were talking openly with the chorus of rain in the background. On the side of the wall beside the door, the shelf was neatly stacked with books, mostly on philosophy, from which I borrowed a copy of John Knowles’ A Separate Peace. It was a side to them I haven’t seen in a long time. It was a happy side that retained its sense of naïveté, their small refuge from the harsh world. And I wouldn’t have left early, had the rain continued with its refrain.

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