Some nights, I care a lot — That would be most nights. I am a caring person, my true self says. I’m sure I’m not the cold-blooded, snobbish person people see from myself. I do everything just for my friends to feel that I care — moreover, for them to accomplish things that would be good for them. I could be good guy Gab and MacGuiver for my friends.
Although I choose who my friends are (and I’m telling you, it’s the only thing I get choosy with), I show every ‘chosen’ friend that I sincerely do care about them. I make sure they know how important they are to me.
Some nights I would spend doing their assignments.
Some nights I’d spend playing favorite games with them.
Some nights, I spend listening to them cry on the phone. Some nights I hear them whining about their love-life, but I’d happily listen.
Some nights, I’ll lend my shoulders to them for them to cry on.
Some nights, I’d stay up making their problems my problems. I don’t have to, but it’s a pleasure for me to be burdened by the problems of the people I care. I believe it signifies to them that I care.
But there are some nights when I wish my emotions would suddenly shut down–a night when I would feel nothing, worry about nothing, and care about nothing–only to turn back on when the first thread of sunlight enters the open windowpane and creeps towards me.
Some nights, I wish I could just do as I please, and that the world will just roll according to my wishes. Yes, I know that you couldn’t get everything you want, and that’s why I’m just wishing. I do things the moment I say them, and wishing guarantees me that I could want extremely impossible things without ever having to make them happen.
I could never be emotionless. In my life, there is always some people I would treasure and cherish. Some people I would care about. Someone I will love in some way. Someone I would love in every way.
There’s no way I could extinguish my feelings, nor is there any way I could be distracted from feeling. Trying to put my feelings away only makes it worse — that thought that clamps itself into my brain and heart will simply hold on tighter like lichens on trees, i.e., it will always be harder to uproot.
I could only but wish they were gone, for I’m sure they will never be. I will always care for others.
Some nights I want to just think about myself.
Some nights I don’t want anything or anyone bothering me, my soul, and the night sky (or, when I’m in the city, the room ceiling). There comes nights when I wanna’ be fully selfish; that people around me would recognize how I need just a few things from them and stop bothering me with anything.
Some nights I want to think about what everyone says. How bad I am as a lover, as a worker, as a student. Yes, I hear everyone say that and transmit that message from my nerves to my blood vessels. They’re all under my skin, slowly poisoning my very being. For a while I want them to stay in my mind so I can sort them out apiece and throw away the ones I don’t need.
Some nights, I want peace.