This piece has been selected to be featured on Launchora's The Storyteller- Winter 2017 issue.
I will never forget that night. The first time I encountered those soulful eyes and immediately saw a future in them.
Lights of red, green, and blue exploded on that beach party, matching the speed and rhythm of Ed Sheeran’s ‘Shape of You’. The salty air is filled with the smell of smoke, cigarettes, and sweat.
Amidst the sea of dancing bodies around, I don’t know how we found each other’s eyes.
It goes the same on how everything went slow when you stood close, invading my personal space, and breathing the same air I breathe.
We asked each other’s names and both answered with smiles and whispers.
You were a man of few words. But each one seemed weighed and spoken—like a vow. That successfully climbed and took down each and every wall that I’ve built through the years to protect my young and naïve heart.
Passion flows deep in my bones, like blood through my veins, when you uttered my name the second time around. I don’t know. But there’s something so different, on how you make it sound like it is the most perfect thing to say.
You told me that I am a metaphor. I am the first girl you’ve ever seen having the summer in her heart and the sunshine when she smiles.
You know, I would’ve made tons of poems out of all the metaphors that you've attached to my name. That incredibly smart mouth of yours never failed to sprout flowery words that tickles my ears and eliminate my fears.
We danced and drank the night away.
Alcohol burns in our bloodstreams, but we know in ourselves, we’re still sober and sane.
You asked me to take a walk. I readily agreed. The night is still young, anyway.
Words are nowhere to be found during the first minutes of our walk. But there’s a comfortable silence lurking behind—like an old friend.
Hair disheveled as the cold summer wind blew along the coast.
I quietly watched how our feet simultaneously steps, white sands visible in them.
That was all eight long months ago.
These are the moments when memories come out from my eyes and roll down on my cheeks.
Within numbered days, you made me the happiest girl on Earth. And I am saying this without the slightest bit of exaggeration.
As I look at our photographs, I realized that when a person loves, it gives away a part of itself for someone else’s keeping. And that’s the joy and the agony of it.
Every day, I am surviving little and sudden deaths.
Every day, I am swallowing that sharp, and bitter lump on my throat.
Every day, I am trying to hide to the phantom of your memories.
But the places I hide only recollects all of the debris and fragments of you.
Like Samson to Delilah… you, too, are my downfall. The sweetest kind of it.
Of all the days we’ve been together, we pretended that we didn’t have to say goodbye.
We disregarded the undeniable and unchangeable truth.
We spent our glorious days well.
We laughed until our stomach aches, danced like no one’s watching, climbed to the roof at 2 AM and talked about the future. A future that is filled with nothing but love and happiness.
We watched movies, took long-drives, and chased the sunset.
I will always remember how you’ll pull me closer to your chest every time I cry because of Jack Dawson and Augustus Waters.
I will always remember how it felt every time you snatch my hand on my lap, entwine it with yours, and kiss the back of it.
I will always remember the slow settling down of sun. Just like how I slowly fell in love with you.
How our eyes met and closed. How our face moved closer and closer. How our lips met and opened in slow motion.
How two old souls breathed on same breath.
Everything screams perfection. The scenery is ideal for a grand declaration of love.
Yet, it terrified me. Those three words are aching. They are suffocating.
As much as I want to scream at the top of my lungs, I couldn’t.
I’d like to, but I couldn't.
There is this certain force of the universe that holds me back. Like sirens and red lights in my head.
But I know that you felt it, too.
Words weren’t spoken by our mouths, but our actions did the talking.
It is possible, isn’t it?
That a love story could exists even without a “Once Upon A Time”.
Even without a grand declaration of it.
Even without those three words.
What matters most is that, we are crazy.
We are happy.
And so… in love.
We poured each other’s heart and gave the love that we both deserve.
We shared and savored the deepest and darkest secrets of our own universe.
We embraced each other’s flaws and imperfections.
You changed and introduced the new face of love to me.
But then, I am so dumb to even believe on that.
A love story could exists without having a “Once Upon A Time”?
Stupid girl.
How can a love story have a “Happily Ever After” if it didn’t have a “Once Upon A Time” on the first place?
I thought, I loved you enough to make you stay.
I thought, I loved you enough to choose me.
When you walked away, I’ve been a prisoner of the pain that you inflicted.
The memories, the aftertaste, and the questions left unanswered were my companion on that dark, gloomy cage.
There came to a point that I even questioned my self-worth.
And that’s the worst part of it all.
Losing myself when I lost you.
You are my biggest irony.
You got me wondering how ironic it is that the person who made you whole is the same person that actually broke you.
That the person who made you feel special, loved, and cherished is the same person who will leave you feeling worthless, unwanted, and miserable.
That you cannot lose someone you never had.
That you cannot really keep what’s not yours.
That you cannot hold on to something that never really mattered.
I will never forget that night. The first time I encountered those soulful eyes and immediately saw a future in them.
I just wished that I have seen this all coming the moment we found each other’s eyes. I should’ve looked away.
You once said that I am a metaphor. I am the first girl you’ve ever seen having the summer in her heart and the sunshine when she smiles.
Now let me say this to you.
You are every snowflake of a snowstorm in the middle of a cold, December night.
A beautiful reminder of pain and loneliness.
All the memories that we had, will always be worth to reminisce even on my deathbed.
Your reason for leaving will forever be a mysterious labyrinth to me. But if you’ll ask me if I love you even after all the pain that I’ve been through, the answer is yes. Completely. Willingly. Eternally.
And I would love to tell you that even on my final breath.