I want to quit writing about you.
The irony of this prose – but,
I wanted to do this for the last time.
At least, here, finally, I will be able to tell you everything
I assume to find tatters of me after this
Because I know that some pieces of me were with you
The day you left, but didn’t say goodbye
You no longer have the pleasure to hold me
The roads are not familiar with my lonely footsteps
Traces of you are still on my bed
I stopped giving attention to the way the moon smiles it reminds me how sad you were the day we first met.
I see you showing up in my front door
I could see you staring back at me
I still feel you.
I hate that we end up like this.
I told you I don’t like temporary things so does people.
You clutched promises on our locked fingers and I believed you. Making you stay is the last job I expected myself to do for us because Momma once told me that if he is for you, he is meant to remain. No matter the situation is, no matter how complicated things get – you will stay because that is what love do to people, teach.
It took me a long time to absorb the idea that there is nothing wrong with me. That I am not the problem. Paranoia never left me. Insecurities are monsters that whispers and telling me to hate my own skin because I been so self loathing all my life.
And loving you is riskier than how I fell in love with extremes. There is no more horror that could scare me the way you kissed my hand.
You feel like a movie, so cliché yet I still wanted to watch over and over.
I am so afraid to love. Many times I find myself controlling my feelings because I don’t want to try again. Loving is lethal and now I am on critical stages of surviving. There’s a rotten part of me that is long forgotten to trust and express romance, but hey my love I tried. And I made a wrong decision of letting myself fall unguarded. I lost my defenses because we have a different hypothesis of love.
My momma taught me that love is not for the youth. Young minds are unsure and stupor of reality.
I aged but still naïve.
I know love.
And I know you didn’t.
Love is about not about giving pieces of you,
It is giving the entire you and left nothing for yourself because he makes you whole.
He makes you feel alive,
And at the same time has the ability to take your breath away.
Love is the adrenaline inside whenever he gives you sincere touch.
Love is not just all about what we feel but about what makes us feel.
I am breaking just by the thought of you. There’s this heavy pain in my chest whenever my head remembers your name. I can’t stand hearing your name. And it hurts that I miss you but can’t hold you nor be with you.
I remember you everywhere, love.
Whenever I cross the street, the first fight we had that happened in silence, with our pride taller than us. I remember how I held your hand that night and we’re even.
I reminisce the first time you told me you love me and I doubt it because you are young and foolish.
The kisses. Your gorilla grip on my hand that I always hate.
You under my skin.
When people ask me about you I just melt inside because darling I don’t understand how we end like this. What are we doing here?
I want to quit writing about you
I am still looking for the pieces of me some are still in you and I know you don’t kiss them anymore and you already stopped giving a damn about it but please keep it. It will always be yours because the truth is I am not looking for the parts of me I’ve lost so I may be complete and be fine, I am looking for them to see if I still need them. I wanna know if they still would fit because I grew.
I just want to stop myself from looking for you in every foreign I meet. Darling, I miss you but that doesn’t mean I have to get you back, I’ve had enough. Sometimes I wonder if you ever consider giving me reasons. I hope that this letter could heal the wounds you left me with.
Please, be happy...with her.
5 / 31 / 17 Wednesday -
6 / 8 / 17 Thursday