"My world is standing still, every movement, every action, only my heart understands and forever wanting those last few days we had together."
Better days are coming; the violent winter is over, the sun is shimmering brightly, giving us the warmth we all wanted, but these days are not meant for me, no. Only her warmth makes me feel still, only her face makes me feel happy, only her everlasting existence makes me feel contended.
She lives far away, studying her heart out for her dreams, for everything she ever wanted. Many people have asked me what I wanted from her. All I wanted was for her to be happy, for her to be satisfied. I've searched for her, but the question lies: What is it I want to gain from her? Love? No, I just want her to gain happiness, just like everyone else who lives with their hearts in their mind.
You must move on, she's not the one, she'll never be the one.
For years, I kept her in my heart, she doesn't know that and I know that she doesn't feel anything for me, but I feel for her and only for her, no one else.
You're losing your sanity.
They would say, but they don't understand how important she is to me. They never felt the same way I do, they will never know what it means to have your entire life's meaning be on one person, they will never know how I feel. I'm ready to lose my sanity for her, for her I will go insane, if that's what it takes for her to be happy, I'm willing to give.
She's not interested in you.
I know that, but here I am still willing, whatever it takes, I don't care if it’s not me who can make her happy, what matters is that I'm here for her whatever happens.
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The days have passed, faster than I can imagine. The days have been heavy for me. The days had been a big search for me, finding something I could never have. Once she bumped unto me while I was walking down the street. Her sweet sorry still rings in my ear, and I only hope that I said the same. She doesn't remember me as a friend she had before, she doesn’t remember me as someone in her life. She may have forgotten all those years. She left me while I was still mesmerized; she left me in that narrow street, forever yearning for something I will never have.
I don't want to lose her from my memories, because if I do, I'm going to lose myself, I'll lose everything, because she's everything to me.
The feeling of loneliness: A man without love will always search for something he can never have or for something that doesn’t exist. My dedication to her is just so strong. Many have said that I'm obsessed with her, many have said that I am insane. But if love is what I feel now, I would rather keep it until the end of time than to listen to their empty words that only aims to distort my reality.
I've protected her more than once before. When people talk about her in the worse ways imaginable, I would protect her name, her dignity, even if it takes mine away, I would sacrifice, even though she does not know what I've been doing for her, it doesn't matter, as long as she's happy. I pray for her happiness, I believed in God for her, I've changed my life for the better. I owe her more than she owes me, I am willing to give my life for her.
One of these days I sometimes wish that she would realize what I've done for her. It's been years since we talked and for all I know, she doesn’t know me anymore. She's on her way to her dreams, to what can make her life happy and one day, she won't need me anymore, but that doesn't matter though, she never needed me anyways, or so I thought.
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It was a sunny day; I was walking in the same streets, seeing the same people. I was walking to my school with my heart on my chest, forever beating the same rhythm of unrequited love. I had to convince myself that it was just any other day; just another day that I have to push through. I've been studying law for a long time now, and I've learned a lot along the way. But I had always thought about quitting and escaping everything and just write. There’s this place I’ve thought about, somewhere far away, somewhere I could be alone with myself and my thoughts. I thought of writing my heart out into the world or writing myself into silence. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do. But I just can’t.
As I walked the hallways of my school (it was my second home for as long as I could remember) I had encountered this anonymous figure. But as this figure starts to shape and identify itself in my vision, I could start remembering who it was. I had forgotten about her in my life. I had yearned for her my whole life and there she was in front of me standing. She was a stranger to me as I was to her.
My heart skipped its beat, butterflies fluttered in my stomach, and my tongue started to feel like sandpaper. My throat had a lump and my shoulders started to sore. Anxiety filled my veins like toxins trying to kill me from the inside, or maybe, it was trying to rekindle a long lost fire inside me. I could never tell.
She stood and looked at me in wonder. Her appearance has changed throughout the years. She looked tired, she looked battered. Maybe it was because she was trying to chase dreams that were running too far away from her grasp. We all had thought the same way as her; we all have thought that our dreams are something we could simply reach out and grab, but dreams and hopes always falter and like gravity, they slowly bring us down to Earth, and reality soon takes its place and slowly shapes us to husks of shells that have nothing else but their long lost selves. I didn’t want that to happen to her and yet, somehow, it did.There is this hidden beauty inside her that I always loved. It was her innocence and her bravado. Those two things seemed to push her to keep on going. But she was different back then. During the time that we were separated from each other, I only wished the best for her. But between her tired eyes and cracked lips, I saw a faint smile, a radiant smile that slowly lit up the atmosphere around us.
“Hey.” I greeted her with my voice almost a whisper. I felt like I was only talking to the wind, expecting for the words to reach her ears.
“Hey, you.” She replied back.
“How are you?” I asked, trying to smile. I haven’t smiled for a long time.
“Good.” She answered. I could see her smile fading away for a moment. “You? How are you?”
I gave the same reply. It felt like a lie and it was truly a lie.
I garnered up all the courage I could muster (which is not a lot) and tried to speak my heart out. I lost her a long time ago and I thought I would never get her back, so this time, I will not lose her. This time I will learn from my mistakes.
“I thought you’ve forgotten about me.” I said. She kept quiet. I regretted my words. Just how much have we lost?
“No. I haven’t.” She replied. “I can’t forget you.”
Who was I to her, really? I was just some guy in some moment in her life that seemed to be nothing more but a mere speck of dust in her life’s creation.
“I don’t know why, but I can’t seem to forget.” She added. “There’s this sense of guilt that carries me and I don’t know why I am saying this but for the last few days, I don’t seem to be myself. I feel lost; I feel that I am controlled by something else that’s not me. I’m searching for something and yet I can’t find anything and now I’m here.”
Those were the same words that were stuck in my mouth. That was my entire life story. They were the words that stitched both my throat and my heart together. I don’t know how she was able to say them, but for some reason she did. Everything felt so surreal.
“I’ve been feeling the same thing. Weird.” I said. She laughed.
“Crazy people think alike, I guess.” She replied.
I told myself that it was enough to make her laugh. I told myself that it was time to leave and to finally, forget. But my legs were stuck and nailed into the ground, and somehow, I felt my throat open itself and give way to the words I’ve always wanted to ask you for a long time.
“I know it sounds weird, but would you want to go out with me?” I said while scratching the back of my head. I could feel sweat sliding down the side of my cheek. I wished that she didn’t see that. Words then escaped from her mouth, words that I would never expect to hear from this life time.
“Yes. Yes I would like to go out with you.”
And with those words, the world stands in transit.
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History is a peculiar word. How does one distinguish where it starts and where it ends?
How do you tell someone that you’re going to die? That you’re going to disappear one day and everyone who remembers you will soon forget you after they have buried you six feet underground? How do you tell someone that you’re going to be nothing else but dust in a couple of years?
I remembered that night fully. I told her everything and she told me everything. She cried and cried and I comforted her; I was there for her, finally. I brought her home, she gave me a kiss, my world stopped fully, and my heart stopped beating. I wanted to hold her forever, but forever is almost done. Our story was going to end even if it only started. Each few days will be our last, but they days will be forever in my heart.
If given the chance I would wish that night never happened. It hurts me all too much but I knew that it hurt her more than it had hurt me.
She was able to tell me words that were avoided by many, but craved by those who don’t understand. With her explanation as to how she would die by the hands of human degeneration and biology, I started to think of ways to save her, to at least give her more time until the doctor she was seeing finds a proper donor. Her heart was failing, her body was too. It has been happening for a long time and it had affected with the way she thinks and with the way she looks. But the most devastating part of it all is that it affected her soul. Her pure and beautiful soul.
I could see it all in her and her time was limited. Our history together has only begun and yet, it was already ending.
Where does it begin, where does it end? As the days pass by, the infinities that exist in our lives seem to fall into finite moments in where we both could determine our existence. Times at the park, times in her room, times in her kitchen: these moments entails human survival. Then there were times when we would meet her parents, times when we would meet her friends, times when we would meet her doctor, these times create a small piece within the two of us, a piece called “security.”
Her parents were doing their best to find a proper donor, but the list goes on and on with her name being the last. Her friends did their best to keep her thinking of many other things except for what she was going through. And lastly, her doctors explain to her the technicalities of human biology, which started to sound less complicated than ever. When something gets explained to you so many times, you start to see it in a simple way, as if you are an expert in it.
There were pills she had to take at this time of the day, pills she had to take when she’s hurt and pills to take for the peace of her mind.
There were times when she wasn’t there and I was, times when she puts her mind into somewhere far and I could not reach her. There were times when we were both somewhere far away being people that we’re not supposed to be. Those were moments of distortion and clarity.
There were times when we would talk and talk for hours on her bed, laughing silently even if we were the only two souls in her house. Sometimes we would lie in comfort silence with each other, only feeling each other’s warmth and skin.
There were also times that I wish to forget in those few days we had together. There was the time when she had told me the truth, which I convinced myself that it was a lie. She was waiting for me in the kitchen of her small apartment. Tears stroked her cheeks, they shone like diamonds under the sun. I stood there, not knowing what to do.
“I’m sorry.” She said, her voice weak and frail. “I no longer want you to be around me. I hope you understand.”
Her words pierced through my heart. I felt imaginary knives stabbing my chest, hurting me, creating invincible wounds which hurt more than real ones.
“Why?” I asked. I felt my throat burn out of agony, out of the pain I was feeling inside.
“Because I lied to you. Everything we have done is a lie. I did forget about you. You were nothing to me before, not until I had this damned disease.” Her words were out of anger. “I never wanted you, but ever since my last relationship that broke apart, I didn’t know what to do, so I looked for you. My insecurities took control of me. I didn’t want to die alone. I told myself that I would at least feel loved before I die. Now, I just realized how selfish I am, how fucking weak I am. Each day that passes that you sleep right next to me, each day that passes that you would tell me I love you brings more weight into my guilt. Let me tell you now that it has brought me to the point that it’s better for me die alone and atone for my sins, than to live with you for a couple more days and lie to myself, to the world, and to the people I love the most, even more. I am so sorry.”
Her eyes welled up with tears, her eyes shook and trembled, her entire body looked like it was on the verge of collapsing. But I didn’t feel hurt or unhappy. I didn’t tremble or cry. Instead I smiled and felt joy. I walked towards her and hugged her gently. I whispered to her ears that everything’s going to be okay and that I won’t leave her even if she had told me those words that could break any man. But that was the thing, I wasn’t just any man. I was the man that was meant to be used. I was the man who was going to deliver her far away from her sins and into a world that would only bring her happiness. I was the man who was going to save her.
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This story’s end is inevitable. It cannot be changed, it is fixed and predetermined and with every passing word, there is that sense of dread because as reality unfolds it shows its darkest forms. But within that abyss, there is hope, there is that one singular hope that keeps me going, but I know that I will not come back.
During her last few days, she was lucid in her hospital bed. I gave her shelter from her madness whenever I could. Her heart could no longer bring oxygen into her brain. There were times when she would lose herself fully and use her last remaining strength to shout out to the void until she loses all her voice. Her skin had turned pale; her face had turned to an almost skeletal figure. As her figure changed, I watched over her even if she didn’t want me. I watched over her because no one else would.
She would be gone, she would disappear and be taken back by whatever created us in this cursed place. But there was still a way to give her life. When everything ends, there will be a beginning. It might not be the best of beginnings, but it will be enough to start all over again.
I had learned so much in life, I had lived so much of it. I had seen many things, experienced many things. I had walked the earth and met people. That was enough for me. I wonder if it was for her.
The day of her surgery came and I held her hand as we go to the operating room, she didn't know I was doing this because she would never forgive herself. After this she'll be happy, after this she will become something new, something everlasting.
I have a lot of things to explain to you but I’m sure it could wait until the next lifetime. I have learned so much as to how life works and how we were meant to do this over and over again in different lives, in different dimensions. But sometimes the best explanation is to just ignore the explanation ever existed and just live a life of ignorance, which I hope you choose to follow, as your life will only be peaceful in a way you live it to be.
Time flies especially in the greatest moments in your life, which is only bound to happen after this. There’s only a multitude more of happiness meant for you and alongside that, there will be moments of despair, sadness and regret. But let me tell you that each day, each minute, each second that pass, there will always be moments of finding yourself and I know that you will be looking for yourself for the rest of your life. And when the sweet music of life ends, there will only be a new start, a new hymn for the two of us. But for now breathe and let my heart pump oxygen into your lungs. Let me make you feel alive one last time.
I'm sorry for everything. I promised myself I'll give you my everything, and now I will fulfill that promise, remember me, remember these days, forever, and dream of me. And remember that with all the infinities that exist, even death will not matter in the end of it all.