Blame It To The Heart

Chapter Nine

"The path from you extending,
I could not see its course---
or the closer to you I was getting,
the further to you I'd walked.

For I was moving in a circle,
not a line as I had thought---
the steps I took away from you,
were taking me towards."

-Lang Leav-

How many years had passed? How many books did I read to keep her off my head? How many times did I try to drown myself with alcohol to keep myself going? I became a lawyer still even though she left me. There were still fragments of her that kept me fighting. Fighting for the heart I never really owned. Or did I?

The first year was the worst. I tried to destroy myself because maybe if I did, she'll come running back to me and tell me, "What happened to you, Ly? Hush now. I am here. I'll fix you." yet she never came. So I cried some more. A liter I think everyday because it hurts so much. I should've taken a lot of morphines for the pain but it won't stop. The pain won't stop so I cried. Because they told me if I cry it all out I will feel better but it made me feel worse.

It was so easy for people to let me go.

I would drink five or seven bottles of beer every night after she chose him. The cold feeling of the glass against my lips reminds me that I haven't drank enough to numb myself so I would drink some more until the world around me starts to swirl. I would call her name late at night and cry silently though I'm drunk. It still hurts but the alcohol lessens the pain. And in the morning, I would remember all of it again and it will hurt more than it already did the last time.

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There were letters I wrote you that I gave up sending. Long before I stopped writing. I don't remember their contents, but I can recall with absolute clarity, your name scrawled across the pages. I could never quite contain you to those messy sheets of blue ink. I could not stop you fom overtaking everything else.

I wrote your name over and over---on scraps of paper, in books and at the back of my wrists. I carved it like sacred marking into the trees and the tops of my thighs. Years went by and the scars have vanished, but the sting has not left me. Sometimes when I read a book, parts will lift from the pages in an anagram of your name. Like a code to remind me it's not over. Like dyslexia in reverse.
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I never really moved on. I never really got rid of the pain, I only learned how to live with it. I don't hate her or him or her parents. I fucking hate our destinies. I want to put a gun on the head of the creature who wrote it for us and tell him to rewrite our stories. I wanted to blame someone for my miseries, but what good would that give me?

We cannot rewrite the stories that were never written.

I've done stupid things during my "recovery". There was this morning when I woke up and there's already a tattoo of her name on my right wrist. Thank God it wasn't her face.  I think I even called her number, I couldn't remember but I saw her name on my call logs the next morning. An unanswered call. So as stupid and reckless as it sounds, maybe I was no different when I was sober because I tried calling her again. There were no rings or melodious voice to ask me how I am. There were just beeps for a dead line. Funny enough, it sounded like a heart monitor with a dead heart.

Maybe it was really a heart monitor and it was connected to my heart.

"Ly, she's not for you. Please fix yourself." My sister would tell me every now and then. "How did you know." It didn't even sounded like a question when I told her that. But god, it started with a how. "Ly, you're not making sense already." she held me on my shoulders and watched me closely with my eyes still wet with tears. "Ate, I never really made sense. That is the reason why she didn't choose me." I laughed like it was okay because it wasn't. That's what mad people do right? They do the opposite of eveything.

"Ly. You're a mess."

"Am I? Good!" I laughed like crazy when I heard her say that. I laughed because that's what I wanted to be. A mess. I laughed even if the tears were flowing like a broken dam. "Good." I said again and drank the half-emptied beer straight. "What if I was a guy? With a nice dick with an athletic body that can make  every bitch in town drool? Will she leave me still?" I slumped on the floor running my fingers through my messy hair. "Maybe if I was a completely different person her parents would agree to the relationship we wanted. Maybe if I am not Alyssa, she will choose me. Right?" My sister looked at me like I was so lost. I can see my reflection through her eyes. I was lost and there's no one to look for me. "Why is it so hard for anyone to choose me. Ate, I love her. It's been eleven months but look at me, I'm still drinking because of her. Crying because of her. Broken because of her."

"I love her and that wasn't enough." I sobbed. I felt vulnerable. I felt useless.

"See, Ate? I built myself a fortress and she crumbled my walls down. But she never entered! She just stood there and watched me be vulnerable."

"Then build your walls again. Make something out of the ruins."

"Who would want something that's made out of broken pieces? Who would love someone who has a tattoo of a girl's name who's never been her girlfriend on her wrist? Who would love someone who wasted herself on alcohol, with failing subjects on Law school? Who would want someone who will always want somone else?!" I thought she'll yell back at me. My sister hates being yelled at. She's always been the boss, she's always been feared, she's always been the one yelling at someone when you're too stupid to not listen to her. Instead, she held my cheeks and wiped the tears flowing and smiled. She held me closer and enveloped me in an embrace. "You're still my baby sister no matter how messed up and broken you are. You are frustrated and stupid and I really wanna punch you right now and break your nose but I won't. Don't lose yourself because you lost someone. Instead, be brave. Be strong. Don't be too naive. Hush now. You'll find yourself soon, okay?" So I nodded and hoped she's right.

It was just another chapter that ended and I had to let it go and start a new one. Because there is no other choice but to keep on going.

"Aging is euphemism for dying, and the age of a tree can only be counted by its rings, once felled.

Sometimes I feel there are so many rings inside me---and if anyone were to look, they would see I have lived and died many times over, each time shedding my leaves bare with the hope of renewal---the desire to be reborn.

Like concentric circles that spill outwards across the water---I wish I could wear my rings on the surface and feel less ashamed of them. Or better yet, to be completely stripped and baptized---my lines vanishing like a newly pressed garmen, a still pond."

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A/n:

Mga bhe, sorry na at short update lang. Hahaha.Mas nangalawang pa ako ngayon pakilagyan ng oil yung mga gears sa utak ko 😁

I'm back from Mt. Olympus. Sorry guys, duties. Hahaha. Charot. Mag-update na rin sana yung isa jan. Hahaha. De joke lang. Ito na ang sryoso.
Magiging napakabagal ang update ng story na to because I need to focus on school na kasi graduating, lam na this, mahirap na. Yes, itutuloy ko na to. Andami ko nang threats, walang halong biro. So here you go, friends. :)

Sorry for the typos and grammatical errors. Maganda lang, nagkakamali din. Charot. Hahaha. Comment mga bakla! Mwaps!