Why we broke up [Editing]

We fall in love til it hurts or bleeds or fades in time

And I'll never be the same

And I loved in shades of wrong

We fall in love till you screw things up or make me mad. {Sing it with the same tone - State of Grace}

Our love seemed to be obvious at first it was like a skinny love. Everyone knew we would fall in love except us. Or perhaps we knew it too.
It seemed written in the sky back then. But what's really written it it? Our break up perhaps.

I don't think any of those things were as obvious as being written in the sky. Perhaps it was clear for everyone else that we were slowly falling in love but I doubt anyone knew about us slowly parting away. We held onto appearances like we should've held onto each other. We fought against each other like we should have fought for our love. That is where to find fault at. We lacked of strength and perseverance. We lacked of interest and motivation. It was easier to walk away than to stay and try harder. That is because for me, love wasn't supposed to be hard. Love was supposed to be easy but furthermore, love was supposed to be worth it. I don't know how you saw it. But I think that for you, love wasn't supposed to be me. At least in the end. But hey, you tell me.

In the chapter You want to run away but you always run into me I said that I was desperately looking for the third version of our story. But I have realized why I couldn't seem to find it. That's because there has never been a third version paper. It never went further than some words typed then erased and finally just like the file. Once I began to try to write something I realized that everything that had happened since the second version was mostly bad news. I couldn't write about bad things. It was supposed to express how perfect our relationship was. Not how you fucked things up. Version three was, consider it a surprise, the Notebook. I remember you gave it back for me to write other stuff in it. I draw a line and wrote after. That's how it was and what I felt like. There was post-breakup us and pre-breakup us. They say crash and other events can lead to traumas. They never talked about breakups. Breakups only make good songs and books subjects. I wrote in the Notebook about how it felt weird to be back together but at the same time how I was ready to try it out.

(So Michael, if you ever ever by some twisted reasons ever come onto this line. I'd like to know if for one, you still have the notebook - I highly doubt it- and if for two, you'd give it back -that is if it answers the two first conditions...)

Now I see you to every corner that I turn to. I see you down the stairs, every time I want to go up. I see you passing by my locker every time I look up in the mirror. And it's not because I'm delusional, really, it's because you are truly there. But I'd rather imagine you than see you for real. Cause at least, in my mind, you'd still smile at me and we wouldn't be strangers again.

I remember that it hurts. Looking at you hurts. And I don't know if the feeling will ever go away. But perhaps I don't want it to go away -yet. Just like I didn't want you to go away. Maybe that's what holding on too tights creates. It creates emptiness and perhaps craziness. I know I should've let go a while back. But I didn't feel ready for it yet. Wishing goodbye to you. To us. To whom we had been and who I once was. Greater things will come but sticking to known grounds and familiarity is easier. Known grounds do not have you walking further into the darkness and jumping off cliffs. Because up there, that's when you wonder.

What if the water is too cold.

What if I forget how to swim.

And more importantly;

What if I get hurt.

'Cause known things equals known pain. Which means bearable. But as soon as you put yourself out there, out of your shell. You expose yourself to the torments of the wind and the risks of getting hurt again. That is if I love again, would it hurt so much again. Common grounds will shatter one time and I'll have probably no other choice then jump off that freaking cliff. Who knows, you might just become a pearl once you're out of your shell.

Sometimes I worry that if I woke up one day and forgot my own name I would probably still remember yours.

You broke your arm a while ago and I wondered what it was like, to have something broken. Other than your heart. And it made me think that you probably wonder the opposite.

I keep on wondering about randomness and how I'll never get any forms of answers from you. Like what goes through your mind now that I'm no longer in your heart.

The irony in all our story is that we met in English class and now it's the only class we have in common. It's now the one and only thing we have in common.
We have William and Josh too, but William is friend with anyone. Really anyone. But Josh, Josh is -was?- your best friend and he'd pick you every time. So it doesn't really count I guess.
We also have Nathaniel as a common friend.

Nathaniel, the same one who rated us Cutest couple ever. The same one who told you about this thing. And the same one who made me first confess the way you were still spreading into my heart like a virus. And the first to make me confess about Henry.

One day I caught a little glimpse of someone before I got scared. My first thought was, is it Nathaniel. And my second one was, what if you were with him.

I don't know what it says about me. How my thoughts jump so easily to you.

On the day before Spring Break you came by Josh's locker. It was right next to mine. And when you opened your mouth the sound that left it surprised me. I was dumbstruck by the sound of your voice and how much it had change. And despite hearing it from times to times in English I can't help but to be weirdly amazed at how I don't recognize it anymore. How much you had changed. The way you dressed up, the way you talked. You changed the way you wore your hair and your state of mind. The dreams of yours are probably changed now, now that I'm not there to keep them alive. The thing is, everything I once loved about you had changed and it left me no reason to keep on loving you. But that's when you left, crossing my path that I understood why I couldn't be done. The perfume of yours didn't change. You still smelled the same and that stunned me. So maybe it meant you didn't change so much after all.

I tried to run away from your ghost and look away from your new found happiness. I really tried to escape our memories by flying away.
But wherever I was to go. It never seemed to be far enough from you.

I messed up. Thinking I was good at hiding my feelings. 'Cause next thing I know, I'm drunk and rambling at how I can't seem to move on from you and saying at the same time that I liked someone too. I was drunk and all I could say about you was how I still loved you. At least the self I knew.
And maybe I'm not better than you, drinking away my sorrow for a bit of fun. Perhaps we're alike for this. Both drunk on the idea of pouring out your heart because it hurt too much to keep it inside.

"And in the end, we're all just humans drunk on the idea that love and only love could heal our brokenness."
- F. Scott Fitzgerald.