It wasn’t really serious, what happened between us. Maybe it can even pass as nothing to you and to everyone I talk to. That it was nothing but a few smiles and long conversations exchanged between us for a number of days. But I was young, vulnerable, and open. I was open but clouded – and I guess I still am.
And that is okay, but as soon as I made it home I turned to my loyal pillow and turned it into my punching bag; I screamed into it until I lost it all and cried. I got so tired and I slept. When I woke up, it all just happened again.
My chest never felt heavier, and being the frail person that I am, I could not bear it all. I tried taking it out on music, TV Dramas, on writing – but at that time, even writing couldn’t put out the fire that was burning in my heart uncontrollably. That fire you unintentionally and unknowingly started. My heart was tight, wrenching, moping, and in an unbelievable amount of pain, such pain I never felt before but I knew that it was needed to get out of my grasp before the hurricane completely turns the beautiful blooming city to mere ruins.
So I ran to my dearest friend to put it on her instead and I remember we sat on her bed with my head resting on her legs and her favourite pyjama pants were covered in my tears the whole time. She had her fingers twisted in my, at the time, long hair because she knew that talking would not do shit to help me, and how kind of her to leave all the irrational talking to me; and how precious of her to know that her fingers playing with my hair gave me warmth and comfort.
I went on for hours until I stood up and faked strength and confidence (as I am still a stubborn and hard-headed being) but that too never lasted long with me. However, I still had to grin and bear it all because I knew I am the only person that is able to get me on my feet again.
Because if they ask, it’ll break my heart every time I act like it is all okay, because I could not speak up, I could not confide in anyone in fear of the reactions to come, because I still wanted to go to you, to tell you all about it and liberate my heart from the torments of the endless “what ifs”, but I’ve always just kept it to myself; bottled up and dying to come out to you so I can either end my misery or stimulate my emotions. But I’m too much of a cowardice to confront you with how I felt. Yet here I am, pouring my heart out in ink, praying that you realise it’s you, but damning myself if you do.
How much of a paradox am I?
I need to forgive or forget you, I can’t walk away. I can’t because I am the only one to blame since you never once promised me something more than a warm smile and kind words. You never thought I would cling to our bus tickets and hair bobble because that is the only thing I can have of that is close to being a part of you. And because sadly, the only thing my precious friend could tell me is that it will all pass and that it will all soon be a bitter-sweet memory to smile at in upcoming years.
That I should let time do its job…but that did not happen and it has been months and months now, nothing surrounding you changed except the fact that you only grew further and further away. I suppose time itself did change and so much around us, around you, but I remain as I am. I was only damaging my health, but still I wish I could go back and stay. Every song we played brings me back to our analytic conversations, and every time I look at the sea it feels like I’m looking at you – like I have your picture tattooed to the inside of my eyelids.
In actuality, time didn’t do what its supposed to do, I’m still not really over you.
My blood still races when I hear your name, and my eyes still light up when I see a picture of you, and my smile still twists to a frown a couple of seconds after thinking of all the scandals we shared.
I even let my anger and outrage get the best of me and I deleted all the precious pictures that immortalised our smiles, that were evidence and proof of what we had and shared with our temporary time together. I laughed it off, brushed it. And I know you know I regret doing so.
I suppose I’ve only gotten used to the void in my chest that I try to mask and fill with coffee and work. Unfortunately for me, the universe just will not wait on anyone and it will stomp all over anyone like it did to me. And to you, it was nothing, but to me it was everything.
It was also the first and last time I courageously open my vulnerable and weak feelings because I cannot put more load on my suffering heart. Because I can no longer even trust time to support and help me up. But I could only fake a smile as I continue talking to you day by day, pretending that it does not feel like blunt daggers getting buried into me time and time again, pretending that to me, what we had was nothing. And maybe it was, but only on your end.
To my heart, I hope I may never be beyond your pardon and support because unfortunately for us, there is much more to come, and we still need to pass this for strength. I know I ask too much of you, I know you want peace.
*I was listening to Heartless by Seafret as I was writing this, so it is densely packed with their heart-breaking, touching, and inspirational words.*