Biyernes, Setyembre 14, 2007


It’s over. Finally, I can breathe. I can have a life again, something apart from always trying to be there for you. I can stop trying to understand, trying to make you see that we can work through this, that our love is worth fighting for. All the uncertainty, all the confusion, all the pain of not knowing where I went wrong, is finally over.
D*mn you for putting me through all that. D*mn you for taking my belief in love, my belief in forever, my belief in you, and handing them back to me broken, saying you can’t deal with them anymore. You will never know how much you hurt me by just giving up, you will never know how much you scared me from loving as much as I loved you ever again.
I did not deserve to be hurt that way. And you didn’t deserve my trust.
So much wasted emotion. I had so much more tenderness to give, I could have stayed with you longer, but you didn’t think it would be worth our while. I know you still love me, as I know that you were too d*mned scared to be vulnerable. And I was stupid enough to hope I can help you conquer that fear, or live with it, so that you can take the risk of letting me into your heart. Not anymore. You would rather hurt me than let down your guard.
I loved you. Honestly, bravely, intensely I loved you. But it wasn’t enough.
I hate the fact that we could have saved us, but we didn’t. We simply gave up something rare, something that doesn’t come along everyday. I hate the emptiness. I hate the regrets.
But the worst thing about all this is the simple, stupid, pathetic truth that I miss you. I miss you. I knew losing you would be painful, but pain, I can deal with. I can cope with the sharp, intense rush of emotion that cuts like a knife, but is relieved somehow by tears and is dulled by the passage of time. What I didn’t expect was the sadness – the steady, lingering hurt that comes with the realization that you will never again look at me as if I’m precious, special, and infinitely cherished, you will never again call me “garnet ko” with the tender amazement that I really am yours. It’s the constant heaviness that haunts me and makes me wonder if I’ll ever be whole again without you, of if I’ll always mourn the part of me that died with our love. I miss you. And I’m to be totally honest with myself, I’ll have to admit that I’d do anything, give everything even go through all the confusion again, just to find a way for you to keep believing in us. But there’s no chance of that.
Some goodbyes are final. I have a feeling this one is.

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