I’m writing to you.
I’m writing to you because you’re all I have now.
You listen. You don’t judge. And most importantly, you listen.
You see, for these past few days I’ve been struggling. Struggling with my different epic love stories and putting an end to each one. I feel sorry about what I’ve done, really. Intertwining those men as if they were my hands. Squeezing every bit of their soul and nourishing myself with what they could give to me, the comfy feeling of not being alone in this room full of crowd. I’m not the bad guy here. . . I loved every one of them. But I guess, they just don’t love me enough. And I’m not playing as the victim here. Ok? I’m just telling you things that are running in the my head right now. To get to the point.., I loved them, used them, let them go, and moved on.
But there’s still this one person you know… this person who just couldn’t get through the process of straining. No matter how much I stitch this heart of mine back to how it was? there’s always a part of it that just can’t be done.
I really don’t know how moving on works. Well maybe I do, but not in this case. This is different. Believe me.
I may have mentioned it to you in one of my so-called-poems, the one about mutual break-ups. . .
Ok. I admit. It was my decision actually.
Me the omnipotent. The righteous. The coward. The confused. I just did what was right, for the time being.
Long distance bullshit.
And now what?
More like the hell experience.
Extreme pain and an endless series of regret.
The waiting and wanting. To go back. To what used to be.
Yes. We still communicate. We promised that we’d still be good friends that day I decided to end it. And yes, here we are, good friends acting as if nothing happened. Yet every now and then the messages just seem to get really familiar. The way we respond to every question asked or the way we cared for each other even when it’s not needed. The simple gestures of love, the 143s, the kiss/hug smileys, the pet names, the IMYs and ILYs all spelled out completely. Dammit. It was like “US” years ago. The “US” who were young and stupid and clumsy and madly in love with each other. It was like a spell that compelled me to fall once and for all in love, again, with the same person.
I am aching inside and it seemed like I’m experiencing a wound dehiscence, or the like. && I blame me. I blame my poor skills in wound closure technique. I blame my weakness and fragility. I blame my vulnerability. I blame my heart, most specially. And secretly, at times, I wish it’d stop beating just because.
I can’t go back.
I’m fighting gravity.
But like the clock going clockwise, I always end up falling and falling all over again.
Right now, I’m just glad I have a strong mind. My mind is my knight. It fights for the good and it defends the weak, which is my heart. I suppose, it knows me better than my heart does.
Can you really still be friends with a person you love and loves you back? Tell me. Please. Because I really need you’re effin advice… but I don’t know if I want to hear it. I’m so used to ending relationships. I don’t know how start all over again. </3