Cut Off

One morning I woke up to find the stem of my plant dangling.

It was accidentally cut off, probably. I placed all my potted plants back at the veranda. I looked at the stem hanging loosely. Who could’ve done such thing? I imagine my mother’s voice inthe background: cut if off completely so the plant wouldn’t die. I felt so intimate with this potted plant. It was a gift. And probably out of sheer curiosity too, that I decided not to cut it off. How could a mere situation such as that couldkill off a whole plant?

It was the annual reunion day. I chose the best dress that I had in my closet. My sister helped me prepare for this event, after all, I knew I would come face to face with him again. It took me quite a long time to take a bath, took me quite a while to get dressed, and fix my hair. Sometimes, I deliberately change my outfit every now and then to match it with my footwear. After three excruciating hours, everything’s ready to go.

At the meeting place, I caught sight of my former seatmates, each of them attending different universities in the nearby cities. Even though we’re not really separated miles away, it was only through this reunion that we were able to meet again. Every now and then I felt anxious of what I was wearing. I saw most of them grew up and changed a lot about themselves, from their hairstyles, to their fashion statements. Some of them felt like they had grown up overnight, talking about things like ‘politics’ and ‘corruption’. Surely, I missed something in them.

After minutes of finding my way to the whole lot, I caught sight of him talking to his old school friend at the corner. Upon seeing him, I was filled with something that holds me back and pushes me at the same time. It seemed like decades ago since I last saw him, but he’s really the same as usual. Nothing changed. When he caught sight of me, he smiled. I waved back.

The feeling still kills. I think that it would never really change overtime. I thought I was over him, but the feeling only intensified the confusion I felt.


I looked up to see him in front of me. That old carefree smile.

“Hello,” I replied.

“Nice to see you back,” he said, looking at me. Then he patted my shoulders gently, and went away. When I looked back to see him, he was shaking hands with his best friend who had just arrived.

I looked at myself. Wearing what I thought my best clothes, fixing my hair, and preparing myself for a long time for this day to come. The day that we would meet again. Nice to see you again didn’t really suffice. I think I’m expecting too much. I just wished that he would love me in return. But it’s really stupid to hold on to unhealthy feelings like this.

When I arrived back at home after that tiring reunion day, I transferred the potted plants back inside the house. The potted plant, the one with the dangling stem, died. Perhaps mother was right. I held on a feeling that would surely end up in vain. I thought this plant could withstand the pain of its part breaking off. With my own pointless insistence not to cut off the damaged part, it died.

It must be because I never let the plant to grow itself another sprout of stem again. For whatever reason, it got me teary-eyed.


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