I have nothing else to write.
I’m dying and I don’t know how to romanticize that.
I lost myself, just as predicted.
And I don’t know how I could afford to write when tears are blinding my sight.
The room is in pitch darkness.
I lay helplessly like a corpse, staring at the abyss.
All I could see is my pain.
All I could hear is my pain.
All I could feel is my pain.
It happened again.
I don’t have anything left inside me but tears.
NOPE. SCRATCH THAT.
Actually I ended up with a lot of drafts before coming up with that. That was by far the most… decent. I mean the one with the better organization. The others were lost-in-my-head poems and letters (they were more authentic though because organization of thoughts could diminish the genuineness of what I wrote). I was so immersed in my pain and grief awhile ago that I came up with tons of writing, and my eyes are actually hurting a lot right now, feels like cockroaches bit ’em.
Anyway, I somehow got a grip on a perspective now.
Looking at everything from a wider view, upon realization I will have to admit that he’s not at fault at all. Just as I wrote yesterday, indeed it all happened in my head. I’ve caused my own pain. And in a sense, I was the one who ruined me (should I cite Murakami here haha). Yeah… he’s innocent. And odds could be that he doesn’t know anything at all. Because come on, guys are so dumb they don’t assume.
Except for Tsuyoshi.
But just because I know that doesn’t mean I’m not sad. I AM. And very much. Because in retrospect history kind of repeated itself. Hahahaha (yeah, that’s a pity). And if I remember, I wrote on my tumblr about it. I predicted it. And yeah, there I go, I was right. And the last thing I needed to finally give up was for him to get a girlfriend. That was the last thing that blew me up in the past. And I think that’s in the near future now. Haha (again, that’s a pity)
But somehow, I feel better. Just a while ago I think I was at my most irrational self. I was drowning in my tears. I literally lay on my bed like a dead person and there was no light (the person in the other room switched off the one outside) so I was in total darkness. With my earphones on my ears, Sober by Kelly Clarkson playing, and my iPod on its max volume, you probably knew what happened. I managed to write nonetheless. Haha but a little while before that, after finishing my take home exam I sat at the corner of my bed and cried. And then laughed because I’m ridiculous. And then I cried again. I think I’m going blind. The sad thing there I guess was that amid my thoughts of him I’ve thought of killing myself. Not because I love him so much or something, but because I’m so tired of this cycle. And obviously I have no idea if I would ever have the chance to escape. It’s a goddamn curse.
Looking back at my post during his special day, I said I will never love again. Nope it’s not that cliched it’s-so-painful-I-think-I-can-never-love-again sort of feeling. I meant it in every sense of the word. I WILL NEVER LOVE AGAIN. It was the first time in a long time I said it. Perhaps because this whole requital thing has taken its toll on me. Requital is not a word invented for me. A word that won’t ever apply to me. At least in this aspect of my life. None of them ever worked out. And I’m beginning to think that’s it’s not for me. That I’m actually better off alone. I mean without a partner or something like that.
I should be posting this thing on Tumblr instead, I know, but I kinda feel (more) liberated when I know it’s in the open.
And my point? I’m not happy, but I’m okay. I’m not happy but I hope he is.
And I know he is.