Confessions of Someone Who Loved the Wrong One

Sunsets Don't Always Mean Goodbye

The sunset was my all-seeing witness when you told me what I knew was coming. 

I have seen it days ago when I looked into your eyes. I have felt what was about to happen and I thought, I was ready for it.

I thought it was what I wanted you to say. I thought it was what I wanted to hear.

I thought my heart was smart enough and did its job, and surrounded itself with thick walls so it would be safe.

I thought I could be brave enough and endure a long battle against my own tears.

I thought I was prepared.

“Goodbye,” you ended your litany with the magic word and as you said it, I felt my idiotic heart's foolish need to be made of glass and jump out of my chest, entrust itself to gravity, fall, and then hear the sound of it breaking into pieces. My traitorous teardrops rejoiced as they knew it was time for them to make their entrance and start sliding and gliding one after another.

I guess, you can never be too sure of your own strength until something happens that actually puts it to test. You will never know how prepared you are for something.

“Goodbye,” being the only resort, I answered back.

Then slowly, you walked away and I painfully watched you slowly become a part of my past. You will become a memory. A lyric to song I will always remember. A wound that would eventually become a scar holding evidence to the ache it has brought. 

I looked back at the horizon and tried to wipe my tears with the back of my hand. The sunset was a blazing flame that flashed the skies and painted the clouds with splendid hues. It was like a painting. I was glad it looked like this today for even if I was crying, I looked as if I was crying in awe of what was in front of me.

What a beautiful sky, I thought to myself. What a beautiful view. It was a beautiful day that ended with a lovely sunset, a shower of tears, and a broken heart.

A day has ended. And the sunset is an artful proof of it.

My love story has ended. And the goodbyes we shared were the epilogue to it.

A sunset, really, is the epitome of goodbye.

When the sky was gradually becoming eaten by the dark, I knew it was time I made my leave. Just a little part of the sun could be seen on the horizon, peeking as if it has forgotten something. I just sighed for even when falling, the sun was really a scenery to behold.

Very unlike me.

I was about to walk sluggishly like all the energy was drained from my body, when I caught one final glimpse at the sun, then a realization hit me.

Something as beautiful as the setting sun cannot always mean something as painful as goodbye.

It can be a reminder that the ones that tried their best to brighten someone's world also feel tired and need to rest after a day of suffering.

Even in pain, I'd like to be like the sun, and now, I should rest. 

I know it will take time.

I know moving forward would not be easy. But I should move. I will move and keep going. Even at the slowest pace. Even just a few steps a time. The steps I'll be making will count.  Because forward is still forward even if it is painful and slow.

My story has ended but soon, a new chapter will start.

A new beginning awaits me.

A new sun will bless the sky and rise again soon.

With another set of tears in my eyes, but this time because of a promise I made to myself:

Like the sun, I, too, will rise again soon. And face a new day. A new life. A better me.

Art: blessinqari