the talk of love, the discussion goes on. some tell tales of magic. some tell tales of despair. some tell of both. but what of the other guy?

there's always a song, there's always a movie, there's always a story about love. and most likely there is one hero and his love. or hers. whatever. and there's always a spark. then there's some obstacle. some villian. could be one person. could be the entire world. but there's a force that keeps them apart. maybe some illusion. and in the end, the love prevails. or doesn't. but hope seems to be the by-product of any thought of love.

somewhere it makes you believe.

i ask you again, what of the other guy? not the villian. not even anyone who's name is mentioned in these stories. but he is a part of the crowd somewhere in the story. the other guy. what of his story? will he ever have one? if u have lived in those shoes, u would not ever dare to hope anymore.

the other guy is still a guy. he's a human being. se he is pre-dispositioned to feel everything that a human possbily can feel. but his life is his illusion. his thoughts are the villian. and his love? there is none. the other guy is designed to aid in love, not belong in one. the other guy is a stepping stone forgotten after being stepped on. the other guy is the guy u never think about at the end. because at the end ur left with hope. at the end ur left with love. but that is somewhere the other guy doesnt belong.


too long has the other guy tried to feel that enigma. too long has the other guy tried to step up. but he is not meant to step up. the hero is meant for that role. there is a theory and phenomenon designed in such a way.


hope is supposed to be a beautiful thing. hope is supposed to keep u holding on. why then does life make the other guy glimpse hope and snatch it away as soon as he think he may rest with it? he is never given what he wants. why can't he at least be given hope? why must he suffer the story to fight so hard for that hope if it is meant to be snatched from his cold and limp fingers in a single pull? why does the story toy with the other guy?

the other guy has still always kept a little bit of hope hidden away. maybe some day, something he doesnt expect anymore may happen. a hope against hope. if he didn't have that then what would be the reason to exist right?

through every attempt at love, he has held so many people up. and when those people were strong enough to stand on their own, sure enough they have stepped right over the other guy to reach their goals. oh yes, they were always kind enough to wave back. have u known how it feels to be waved at by heroes? the other guy thanks his lucky stars to be waved at by the ladies he has loved.


and then, out of nowhere, that tiny glimpse of hope found someone who embraced it. that someone took that hope and made it grow. grow so wild that the other guy thought maybe this could be his story. that finally years of being the other guy were not entirely wasted. she took the other guy in her arms and whispered three words in his ears. again and again. the other guy hadn't felt this before. he was not used to it. he was not used to a woman's arms. he was not used to such whispers. for he had known only the whispers of shadows and ghosts. and those are terrible things indeed.
she took the other guy's pain away. she held his hand right through. and for once she was his support. the other guy grew confident in himself. and the other guy believed that his story was just starting after all.


the other guy was mistaken. the lady was another man's. the lady herself had escaped from another story and did not realize that she was meant to be that hero's lady. and though she tried to break free of that story, she couldn't. and quite happily went right back to his arms. the lady made the other guy feel like he was a man for once. but stories were not made for other guys. sotries were made for heroes and their lovers.


the lady was kind enough to thank the other guy for being there for her though. the lady said that she would hold the other guy in her heart where he always belonged. and the lady waved her hand.


but this time the other guy wasn't grateful for the wave. the stories had made a grand scheme to take that well guarded hope from the other guy and destroy that too.

now the other guy fears hope itself. he is afraid to keep any. he has nothing left to give if it shall be taken from him ever again. the other guy has lost his reason. and the other guy has lost his purpose.


the other guy was meant to be the other guy..... always......

yes, it does feel like a friday. it very much feels like friday again....