Love Letters I Never Sent

Letter #2: Like It Never Happened

That's the last of it, I thought. I wiped beads of sweat from my forehead as well as the forming tears from my eyes. This wasn't the first time this happened, I reminded myself. I sighed heavily before swallowing the sobs that begged me to be released loudly. It's the middle of the night. I couldn't just do that. Although I could hear a few hushed voices from somewhere inside the house, some of the people residing here with me would probably be sound asleep by now. 

I couldn't wake them. I shouldn't make a scene. That was what I trained myself to do at times like these. I should be quiet and pretend everything's fine. 

My hands were shaking as I opened up the last bottle of beer that I had with me. I gulped it down until the very last drop. I felt lightheaded but it didn't matter. My stomach churned and my chest burned from the alcohol but it was nothing. I was already breathless and I was slowly turning lifeless. This was nothing. 

I was nothing.

I chuckled quietly and bitterly to myself. I had to learn that the hard way apparently. I had to feel brief happiness with some people and then have them slowly forget about my existence. I had to make them important people to me despite knowing the fact that they would never see me the same. I had to find ways to fit in, to somehow belong with them, only to find out I was a puzzle piece of an entirely different puzzle. I had to learn this the hard way. 

Worse, it was because of him. 

As I tried balancing myself and dragging my bags quietly towards the door of my bedroom, I heard collective laughter that echoed throughout the whole place. For some reason, I wanted to cover my ears. It used to be melodious to me to hear people laughing because that meant they were happy. Right now, it sounded like the laughter was mocking me even if it was not really directed at me. I wanted to cry. A part of me desired to know what was funny and I honestly craved to laugh with them. But I shook off the thought. I did want to belong but I never wished to feel as if all the efforts I did were not enough.

I walked out of my bedroom door, bags in hand. I was fueled by the pounding pain inside of my chest as I quietly took steps towards the backdoor. The night owls were probably in the lounge, doing something they would only be the ones capable of understanding. I had to go quietly and not have them see me leaving.

When I reached for the doorknob of the backdoor, I suddenly had flashbacks of the first time I touched it. They greeted me happily and warmly. The warm smiles they gave off and their gentle yet humorous nature were radiating throughout the entire place. Being there was fun, a first for someone like me who kept on searching for new homes every once in a while. I could still hear myself laugh from the very first time I stepped foot here. I could still hear myself talk happily to different people that were a part of this household. And then my memories drifted me to him, to my very first memory of him apologizing for how his friends acted around me. I heard my voice say it was alright and it didn't bother me one bit. 

I was mesmerized by the sound of his voice and the way he felt like the gentlest person ever. He would timidly initiate conversations with me and would often ask me to watch movies with him. His friends would tease us because of the way we were always together doing stuff that only the both of us knew. They began pairing the both of us. It was one of the biggest mistakes of my life I assumed he would probably like me too. It was my fault that I did fall first. I never should have. I realized it now.

Because one day, all of that stopped. 

I would often accidentally eavesdrop on conversations about him being paired with different people. He would laugh it off. I knew it was a joke. But every time I would lurk around conversations about that, I would feel a heartstring being cut off. He also stopped talking to me with the same energy he had from the very first time we talked. I felt like some kind of thing that just suddenly lost everyone's interest. I never liked the attention, but I didn't want to be ignored completely because I never fit in with them. I didn't want to lose myself and I had enough self-respect to know when it was time to go. 

And the time is now.

With a slow, silent twist of the doorknob, I opened the door and got greeted by the cold breeze. I gripped my bags tightly and walked out. I closed the door behind me and finally sobbed. The tears were free as I marched away from the place. Twenty steps passed, then thirty, and eventually a hundred. Nobody would even notice that I left. They would forget about me, someone who entered and left through the backdoor. I was sure of it. If they did, I would probably be long gone and out of their reach. I would have already forgotten about them and everything associated with them.

Like it never happened.