“
it didn’t happen fast. it happened at a slow pace, where the friction of ache constantly reminded me of what i was about to lose. when he looked at me, it felt like i was just another glass window he sees through. he barely recalled what i told him a minute ago. he was like physically present but having mind wandering elsewhere. it seemed that he built up a world of his own and gave me a broken car with broken gps so as i go search for the old him, i’ll go astray and unable to get back.
it didn't happen fast. i watched him tried and failed. try again and fail again. he laughed at things i shared not because he found it funny but because he found it necessary. i realized that the way he smiled at me didn't spell out happiness. it was just like an automatic obligation for him to cover up the sadness in his eyes. but i have a way to make out the things he refused to show and write, i have learned to understand what this silence was for. i used to love that and now do hate that, as it slowly burned me inside out.
it didn't happen fast. as he snuggled his body against mine, his warmth subsided. when we kissed and touched, it all started to taste discontentment. i wondered why it didn’t felt as exciting as it used to be, i thought we were just growing up and growing used to this. he wanted me, i got it. but at the same time, i saw in his eyes the tempt to run outside the room to give me, give him the peace. and the only way he could have it was for me to not show up inside his four walls. peace for him meant my absence.
that’s it.”