Letters I Never Wrote

Chapter Two

"Meet me where the end begins, where your world is me, and my world is you." - Perry Poetry

It has been two months since the breakup. I am still not getting any better. I didn't even know how I was able to live on. Each day felt like hell. The ache just gets worse every single day. I wasted a part of my whole six years with him. Those whole years, he had been a big part of me. And just like that, everything's gone. I hated the things I once loved. I hated the places I went with him. I hated everything that reminds me of him. I'm taking a shower right now, the longest since I remember; since ocean and coffee isn't my thing anymore. Yes, I still stalk his profile sometimes and the recent message I sent him was a week ago. He isn't responding anymore. The more I seek to him, the more I pity myself. I realized love is just an idea people tend to believe in, people use this term to disguise their actual concern. Heart break and loneliness is what you get out of it; it makes your life miserable, breaks your heart into thousand pieces and still each broken part of your heart misses that person. But I still want to live, even when tortured; and I'm glad that these are the kind of thoughts I have. I want to take this break up as an opportunity to find myself.

Early in the morning, I received an email from the book company I am working. I woke up to a congratulatory message telling me my book has been nominated to have a movie adaptation. The email stated that the book I wrote had fans demanding for an adaptation. This is a sudden moment where my face is washed blank with shock, like my brain couldn't function fast enough to take in the information. I don't know what to feel. I read the email again to my disbelief, but damn, it's really true. I have read it right. I couldn't believe my work gained fans. I mean, this is something not to be super proud of since other writers have thousands, and that every book they write seems to catch the hearts of the readers, but, this is the very first book I felt my existence is appreciated as a writer in my entire career. I have written five books, and this is the first one which received recognition. After all these years, I thought writing isn't for me. Yes, I am a writer, but not that famous. And at least in my fucked up life, I still have something I am good at. Although, I actually graduated as a nurse. A nurse that hates seeing blood and injections. I'm glad I survived those years.

"There you are!" I saw Cara waving her hand as she entered the café. Her face showed excitement as she approached me, ready to give me a big hug.

"Congratulations! Oh my God, I'm so proud of you!" I called her this morning and told her about the email. She went like shouting, obviously more excited than me and told me she'll treat me in our favorite café today.

"Thanks, Cara! Order me a Matcha frappé."  The excitement disappeared as her expression turned into a straight face.

"Didn't you eat breakfast?" She rolled her eyes and I smiled and nodded in return. "Yah, your oversized shirt tells me you just woke up."

"Hey, what's wrong with an oversized shirt?" She pouts and shrugs her shoulders.

She immediately went to the counter and ordered my Matcha frappé and her Oreo cheesecake milk tea. To my surprise, she also bought some huge sandwich. She's been always like this since we were kids. She's the caring and loving best friend you would always want to have.

"So, when are they gonna tell you about the final result?" She asked and sipped her drink.

"Two weeks from now. I'm kinda nervous, we were asked to write the parts we would want to include in the movie and that's only for a week. Cara, I'm afraid I might mess-"  She sealed my lips with her finger.

"Shush...you're a great human. They'll go for your book, I know that."  I smiled at her and stared at my frappé.

"I hope so."