The Elaborate Way of How I Moved On

Step 1

Like the previous mornings, I woke up feeling the same feeling— like I lost a limb or two, like something was forcefully taken away from me and I feel angry, sad, and a cocktail of other negative feelings. Regardless, I have to survive this day and the following days as well no matter how hard it is because life doesn't stop for anybody, not even me. Come on, I am not that special.

Maybe that's the reason why he left me, I am not that special. Un-special people like myself gets left behind because they don't have any redeeming or compensating quality they can offer to make people stay. Maybe I'm thinking too much. I want 5 more minutes to myself to beat myself up and wreck every nerve and brain cell I have to think about how Cyrus managed to not text me again, how he just casually goes to his classes without feeling guilty about what he did to me.

I stripped myself naked in front of the mirror and judged my own body. Maybe there's something wrong about my body. Maybe I'm not that satiating enough for him. Not physically attractive to make him stay. My arms could be too thin, I probably don't have enough muscles to be attractive or it could be my face. Maybe my face isn't good looking and there are rough surfaces on my skin and these aren't qualifying me as someone who is worth something.

The exposed parts of my body are observable in front of my mirror and it's hard not to study each and every features especially when I'm trying to figure out why did he left me all of a sudden with no texts or calls saying that he can't continue whatever we have anymore? Is a simple goodbye too much to ask? Enduring the pain of the falling out is only bearable if I knew the reason why but I don't. He disappeared like a ghost— no warnings, no signs, nothing. How can people ghost on someone who loves them.

As the water rustled down and traversed my naked body in a downward motion, with my back pressed again the cold unforgiving walls of my bathroom, I can't help but wonder if it's something I did or something I never did. There is also the possibility of the opposite statement, that it was really him all along. Everytime I try to piece something together, nothing concrete is coming out since I don't have much clues to begin with. I took one last glance at myself in the bathroom mirror before finishing up.

Worried that I spend too much time in the bathroom I checked my phone for the time first before getting dressed up only to find out that I haven't been in there longer than 10 minutes. The slight panic I had has now faded into oblivion and once again left with nothing. A month ago my phone served our communication non stop. I'd check my phone every few minutes to see if he already replied and that may be silly but it's one of the little things that kept me going. No matter how hard it got in school or in my family, he is one of the few reasons that kept me moving forward. But now all I'm left is a dim lit apartment room, a cold and cruel weather, and a phone that only serves as a means of checking the time.

I got dressed but still depressed I guess?  But this time, I get to wear a coat since it's December and very cold. Little by little I'm getting used to this sad temperature but of course I can't just go outside without a coat unless I want to end up sick in the hospital. I grabbed my messenger bag and my old glasses. My eyesight has worsened again and I don't know if it's because of staying up late at night or my scheduled crying every now and then. Regardless, I must get them adjusted soon when I have the time.

I went outside of my apartment and breathed the air in before starting to walk towards the university. It's my daily ritual to remind me that I'm still alive despite the bad things. The skies are filled with gray clouds, the kind that is dense enough to prevent the sunlight's ability to penetrate through which is kind of depressing. Even the world outside is dim, and there isn't any snow falling since my country doesn't experience that. The city can always be unforgiving especially before the year ends. Everything and everyone seems like characters and objects from post-apocalyptic novels I read— they seem mechanical and devoid of positive feelings at all.