You sent me a care package right before you left for New York which was kind of strange because you were the one leaving. You were always like that. You take care of others first before you take care of yourself.
We both know we weren't okay – we were just too scared to admit it. We said our goodbyes with still a week before your flight. The conversations were cold thereafter. It seems like we just gave up.
I accepted it, but it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.
"We are allowed to be sad after making the right decision."
You were right.
But why does doing the right thing hurts the most?
I took the package into my room so I can open it in private.
The box was labeled "A.G." and there was a note.
"for when you can't sleep"
Inside was a white t-shirt. The other half of what I have tucked in the deepest part of my closet.
Your t-shirt smells like A&F Fierce.
It smells like home.
I am saddened with the realization that this t-shirt was a symbol of love
But now, without us wearing it again simultaneously and side-by-side, each t-shirt will just show an infinity cut in half.
We've kept each other, but now it's time to let go.
The what ifs and could've beens are now buried together with the memories of what was once a happy ever after.
"I just arrived at my apartment. I'm so tired. I'm going to sleep na. Take care, G."
I have so many thoughts in my mind. I wanted to say I miss you, but I know I can't.
I'll have to get you off the hook.
I can't keep pulling you back when things get rough.
You have to move on.
"Rest well. Enjoy your stay there. I love you."
I didn't hit send.
Instead, I let her sleep without getting any message in return.
It's been three years and I know I don't regret the lost past, but I regret the lost future – the what we would never be.
- G
