We can just go back, can’t we?

Somehow I thought it was over, somehow finally over because I already know where this leads. And it’s because I have to force tears out to cry. And I won’t cry. I won’t cry.

As I lay on my bed, I felt empty. I don’t even think what I needed was to be happy. I just stared blindly at the darkness, wishing to feel something. Like pain. I forced myself to cry but I won’t. I won’t. Why? I felt dry. It felt like I ran out of liquid. Inside. Tears. Like I no longer have any of that when they were all I’m left with in the past days. And I didn’t like that—feeling like a bag of emptiness. I wanted to feel something. I wanted to feel alive. So I went down the memory lane.

I remembered him. How I met him. How he told me his first impression of me. How I started noticing the childish features of his face. How he was the only person I opened up to about my frustrations during those days. How I first texted him. How I stopped adding an honorific to his name. How he teases me about my first date. How he calls me that stupid name. How he hesitatingly opened up about his past. How he remarked about my appearance when I came to school without taking a bath. How he pesters my shoes when we were in the ruins. How he chased after me when I snatched him his phone. How we first rode the jeepney together. How I accidentally punched him and he keeps reminding me about that. How he always insults me whenever we cross each other’s paths. How–How—

(silly memories)

How everything changed. How my feelings ruined everything. And I lost it. We lost what used to be there. Friendship? Might be. Because sometimes and now I feel like a stranger to him. And I know it’s my fault. Because feelings. I developed feelings. I had feelings. I became attached. And I started seeing him more than what I should have.

The bad things always happen when people get too close to me. 

And I wish I could go back. And I wish we could just be like that again. And I wish we could be friends again. And I wish I could tell him my frustrations. Again. Again.

And I wish, I wish, I wish.

But that won’t happen.
I lost him the same way I lost her.

I could only hurt. And cry.


I finally cried.

And somehow this feels better than feeling nothing at all.


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