It should be me, that should be me

I’ve done everything I can to convince myself that this isn’t the universe where we end up together. Tried to rest content with the idea that in another universe, we were together.

But like the other failed times, I’m here again. Crying. Crying at every realization that I wanted, badly wanted that to be this universe. 

Why can’t it be? Why can’t it be in this world?

On my own

I can’t help but feel useless.
Everyday I get up. Everyday I get out of my bed, only to further realize my augmenting insignificance. None of it made sense. None of these is making sense. I continue to wake up feeling more lonely each day. I wasn’t happy with myself. Neither when I was with other people. I’m not happy when I’m home. And only yesterday when I realized that I wasn’t happy with my best pals either. Although I laughed and joked around with them. Although I provided the comical vibe. I don’t even talk to Mom anymore. She wasn’t trying either. But that’s okay. Who am I to complain, I wasn’t doing anything that great for the person who gave me everything I needed and didn’t. All I did was pursue an honor that was meaningless in the long run. I poured my life to learning and education. I gambled my happiness for something I thought was eternal tranquility. I was blind. And now I don’t even have many friends. My siblings said I didn’t have friends because I am exactly like this. And heartbreaking enough, my mom says that a lot too. Haha, like you understand. I thought you were the only one who understood me. Turned out not even you.

This feels a whole lot like living to die. The thought neither pains me nor comforts me. Why do I feel like I ran away from happiness despite presumably thinking that it was right within reach? Maybe I should have just lived for the moment. What of the future, I’m not even sure if I could live up to it. Maybe I should just do what I want. What of the honor and praise, that doesn’t, after all, make me any more deserving of Mom’s love. UP blinded me. I gave the community more attention than myself. Why do I carry the burden of assuring that the unprivileged have it or will have it together soon, or someday? Why do I have to care about their well-being? Why do I have to put other people’s happiness before me? Why wasn’t I happy even after everything I did for this stupid world? Even after venturing on a significant existence? Why does it feel like none of my hardwork paid off? Why do I feel like all of my hardships were useless? Why? Why, God?

Why am I unhappy when I did everything right? Am I not entitled to become happy?

Why don’t you just let me die?

Right. Why won’t I just die.
Trying was proved senseless.
This is not living.
This is just not being dead. Physically.

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.