There are some things or situations that happen in the movies that we think only happen in the movies. We’d even wish true love could be attained by bumping into a mystery guy down the street. We hope that rags to riches stories can happen to almost everyone. The world would be a richer place when that happens. Richer in the sense that we’d never know of poverty anymore. We’d be millionaires, carelessly travelling around the world. Movies proclaim some things that look so positive but would eventually leave you harmfully hopeless.
Earlier this evening, while I was cleaning the dining table, I felt a certain kind of drama that always takes place in the movies. Wait, I was not melancholic because I had to clean the table or anything. It’s just that there was really nothing to clean. And I was not sad about it either. The thing here is that no one ate at the table. There has been a cold war going on around the house. And everybody is affected. I feel kinda depress just thinking about it. Hell. The plates were just sitting there, with the spoons and forks on top, and the glasses were waiting beside the already sweating pitcher, but no one cared. Everybody was busy doing something else. Doing something else to avoid something. It’s amazing how we can distract ourselves from something we don’t want to acknowledge. It’s amazing how we can close our eyes and cover our ears whenever we don’t want to accept a certain phenomenon. We know it is right there, breathing us in, but we always held back and not let ourselves be carried away. The force is strong, but the resistance becomes stronger.
Now, don’t get me wrong. We did eat. Each one of us. We took our own plates from the dish rack and ate in our own rooms, the living room, or anywhere else but not on the dining table. I dunno why exactly. As for me, I ate while watching TV. I dunno where my other family members were, and I respected their privacy, solitude, or whatever you wanna call it. I decided not to eat on the table because it’s really sad eating there alone. Right?
After an hour or so, when I thought that the others were already sleeping or something, I cleared the table. I put the unused plates and utensils right where they belong, and that was when this particular scene hit me. As I mentioned earlier, it was melancholic. It’s like what happens in the movies where the protagonist (usually a heroine), cleans up a table after waiting for her significant other for dinner but unfortunately, he was out spending some pleasurable moments with some stripper. Or. Someone clears the table because no one ate because none of them has gotten over a loss or some freakin disaster. That was how it felt. Dang.
So. My head hurts already. I should really be sleeping right now.