Days passed by. Nobody dared to reach out. I would go out every night, in my Fila, running away, chasing after my happiness, but my happiness is set to another level. The Artemis level. And right now, I just have to settle with man-made endorphins. I bet the people around me are wondering why I am alone. I bet they’re sticking their heads to one side just to check if my hand was holding someone’s hand. I bet, they also miss our laughter, or how we're supposed to go perfectly by this time, because our convo is so random, anyone could be amused by just listening to our pep talks.
I told my diary tonight that I tried to fool people, but instead I was the one fooled.
March 31
Oh whale. I communicated with her but it turned out that it was a bad decision. Heartaches are killing me. I feel like I was friendzoned or I dunno. She is just a massive tease. Ayoko na. Masakit.
Re-reading this makes it a lot more painful. It’s like pulling out the strings of a perfectly sewn wound. I scanned through my diary but that seems like the last entry with her name on it. Next week I’ll be flying to Manila where I’ll spend one month of internship. My head hurts. I couldn’t believe that this has happened- how we died because of one fragile break on the cord. I guess I was expecting for a hold-on moment. But no, there was no such thing as holding on, it was more of a let-it-go like in the movie Frozen. Why is that song even happy in tune? It should be sad. Half of letting go process is devastating. Letting go is not freedom. It’s the end of everything. The end of a supposedly happy ending. The end of long strolls and late night conversations. The end of everything.
But I guess, letting go is my only choice now. I just did all that I could to forget. I ran miles away, I drank too many teas which should’ve cheered me up, I had my hair cut and my body pampered, I turned up the happiest songs on my playlist, and it came to the point when I tried to stalk my crushes again. But nothing worked. It. fucking. tears. me. apart. So much, that I am crying while I’m making this paragraph.
After april 3, nothing follows. Just stories about how my everyday in the Refinette turned out, just blank statements trying to have a good plot. For a month, I tried to divert my attention. I got busy. I never took the chance to sleep during my duty cause it only gives room for dreaming about her. After the long day, I would check my phone, but only Smart is kind enough to notify me of its latest promos.
30 days. For 30 days, no one took care of our relationship. It was like planting a seed which grew so fast within the first weeks, then it stopped growing then it eventually died, just when it was about to show its first bud. We failed to become a tree, so it turned out that termites consumed us from within, and we didn’t even feel that we are dying. We. Just. Died. One. Day. Just before the sun was about to rise. I didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye.
If there’s something I regret right now, it’s telling myself "goodbye to us", more often than telling you that "I want an us".
In fact, I am sorry. For not saying that, not even once. Shan, I am sorry. I've always wanted an us. But there’s no use in telling you. Words mean little when they’re a little late.
And there’s no undo button, nor a pause. Nothing can stop me from crying. Or from feeling depressed. There’s only replay which I seem to click everytime my wounds are about to heal, such that I don’t heal at all.
I’m a messed up person who takes time to sew her wounds, but pulls the strings out just when I’m about to get well, cause…because the pain kept me alive. It kept the memories thriving in there, in my brain and in my heart.
Memories that are painful, that are haunting, and killing me. Memories that I have to forget.
*********
May 20. That’s 4 days before. I composed something only I know. And Shan will eventually find out. It’s something I decided to write because it would mean that I am healed- by the time Shan will receive it. I guess this is the end of the story. As you can see, there’s no “..and they live happily ever after”. I remembered the Mayday Parade song: happy endings are stories that haven’t ended yet.
This is the story of us, of how we grew beautifully each day, and how we died tragically.
This is the story of us, but there’s no us anymore so I had to divide the word into Shan and I.
This is the story of Shan and I, of how we grew beautifully each day, and how we died tragically //
