Heya!
It’s been quite a while since we last said our “hi” and “hello”. And yet, no matter how distant and silent, I have not forgotten. Not for a single day. Not for a single waking hour. And if truth be known, not even for a single hour spent clutched in the darkness, between nightmares and dreams.
The months that we have been apart have been a constant strain between us. And it has also been a cause for where we are now in each other’s life, well, for the place that I am in your life that is. And that is nowhere.
And though I have spent so many hours pining and being sad about how things have been, asking questions whose answers I already know, it still doesn’t get any easier now that you are gone. But I should have known. Precisely, I had known of the possibility. But then it’s a whole different story when a possibility becomes a reality, especially this reality of something good and beautiful ending.
But life goes on, and on until it would end. And it would, it’s just a matter of time, or will, or cowardice perhaps in my part.
I know you hated that part in me, the part of me that has not been able to forget the harsh past that has shaped me, the part of me who carried not scars but fresh wounds that I sprinkle everyday with herbs and salt so that I would not forget. But for a time, I wanted to believe, I believed that you were able to accept that in me, and that acceptance of who I am, of where I have been and the possibilities that I could be was the love that I thought I could never know again. But I did. And though your love may not be a phoenix that would rise again from the ashes, my love, though mortal, will always be holding you until it has to let go.
I know you hated that part of me that was dying, little by little. But I want you to know that I never intend for you to feel that your love was hopeless, that your love was useless, that it was not able to do anything to let me forget my painful past, that it was not able to let me live. I hope you realize that it did exactly what love was supposed to do, when you were there, I may not have admitted or said it out loud, but you made me live. You wanted me to be alive for a day more, and another day, and another day.
I know its useless talking about things that have been, things that have ended, that have died. It may be a waste of time talking about memories. But then, please do bear with me, for memories are just a few of the things that I have of you. I may no longer have your love, but I still have your memories, though they are, admittedly, fading everyday, as all things do.
Often, I ask myself if I have a right to ask for some things to remain even after the breaking of things. I have done a lot of mistakes that have caused your anger, and I don’t want to create new reasons for your wrath. And because of that, words are running out for me…
I wonder if you still remember me. Do you regret the love that we discovered, that we shared, that we made and fashioned into the shapes of our desires?
I wish I could see you smile at me again.
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