I don't know if you ever care about what and how I'm doing so far without you, but I still want to tell you in case I stumble upon your mind once in a blue moon. And if one day you'll read this letter, then I guess I wasn't hoping in vain at all.
Let me start by telling you what I did right before I began typing this. I was online, posted a poem by Lang Leav on MyDay and chatted with a friend. I hate to admit but yes, I also checked if you were online. It became a habit since the last kiss we shared and believe me, it's a torture seeing that green icon on your profile picture. Suddenly a woman from inside me asked: "How long are you going to be like this?" I stopped and stared blankly at the boring wall of my small bedroom. I couldn't answer her and I wish I could.
You see, every step away from you gets harder each day. I know it's ridiculous. I know I shouldn't be acting like this. I know this is crazy and I wish I could just stop it. I found out that it's better if other people are the ones who keep on telling you are wrong, because once you admit to yourself that you've made a mistake, you lower down your flag and surrender to your own judgment. You give up. You stop fighting. End of the game. That is where I am now; far from the unlocated finish line and had stopped running for it. Yet I am still on the race track. I am on my chosen road but I don't know what's at the end or will it ever end? It's like walking blind all by yourself with only your instinct to trust.
For sure you had come across at least one of the many pieces I wrote about you. I know you are smart to see the reflection of your eyes behind the mirrors of my soul. I know you saw your name hidden beneath every phrase of my writings. Those were the hours when my heart was overflowing with words and my mind couldn't handle it anymore. Those were the days when remembering every small detail is still bearable. Those were the nights when when going back through time doesn't hurt so much yet. But recently, I can't do it anymore. I can't replay everything anymore in my mind. I can't bring myself to close my eyes and be with you again in a pile of memories I thoroughly cherish. Reminiscing the time we were together is like going to a war without any weapon for survival. You only take bullets but death won't come to take you. You stay there with holes all over your body but death will never be there to save you from the pain. That's why I don't write about the memories of us anymore. Words don't come easy.
Maybe by now you can say that I'm not okay. I don't pretend to be okay, either. I am too transparent of my feelings, I know. Perhaps you've come to see how I flaunt my scars, how I wear them like a jewelry shining under the sun. I actually don't see the reason for not taking chances when you have them especially when it comes to spilling out heart's content. I am not okay and I want to remind someone out there that he/she is not alone. I am not alone in this arena. I am not alone in this game called miseries of life. I am not the only one trying to survive each day but right now, I am doing it alone. Ironic, huh!
Going through all these, one thing is for sure: I am still breathing and as long as I'm alive, I know one day my heart won't ache for you anymore. I know one day your eyes will stop haunting me. I know one day your presence will no longer startle me. I know one day reading poetry and screenshotting them will never be about you. I know one day you will no longer exist in my dreams and daydreams. You will vanish like the cigarette smoke I exhale out of my body. It doesn't matter if you will leave a black scar, for it will be a sign of art that was once full of hues, soon to be abandoned like the gray ashes and cigarette butts on an old dusty ash tray.
Until then, I guess I have to keep floating on the vast sea of your territory until the right wind blows me to another shoreline, away from your island.
-ascute montefalco