Unsent Letter #5

This has got to be one of the worst nights since.

I was in a sort of a retreat last weekend and no thoughts of you even bothered me a bit (okay fine, maybe a little ‘cause who am I kidding right). I was very happy with how I was handling things and I thought I was already starting to get over you. Come Sunday afternoon with that oddly horrendous dream and everything I’ve worked hard for goes down the drain like sand going through that slit of space inside an hourglass.

I am such a mess and one can only imagine that a person like me has to go through this kind of pain without the ability of expressing it openly. I can’t and don’t want to because I’d rather cry my pain in the confines of my bedroom where no one else hears my sobbing and sees my crying. I don’t want to verbally explain how things are because I will just bawl my eyes out, almost wanting to remove them from my eye sockets. It’s that bad.

I kind of wish you just cheated on me so it would have been better to hate on you and eventually forget about you. But no. Your warm memories reverberate inside my head and consequentially my eyes miss seeing your lovely face. How is it possible to love and hate someone for loving you and making you love her this much? Just… How?

I have been denying myself of the fact that I am still not over you – mainly because I have been telling people that I have (gotten over you) and I, myself, have even believed that self-concocted lie. I will go back to ground zero and make myself feel the pain. I believe that pain needs to be felt in order for it to be eliminated (refer to Unsent Letter #2). I believe one has to cry everything out so there will be no more. I believe I will get over you – sooner or later. I’ll get there. It’s a process and I will trust it.

Someone told me a while ago how strong I am. I do believe that I am strong but strong people get tired too. And I guess right now, I’m just really, really tired. I’m tired of hiding all these feelings – these feelings that slowly break me and immediately tear me apart.

I love you but/and I hate you for putting me through this.

But mostly I miss you and I just wanna see your face in the end.

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Unsent Letter #4

Whoops. I thought I was already fine. But hey my tears suddenly fell? Haha this is so funny. I woke up with a heavy heart from that night of fragility.

I guess the theme for this week is that I’m missing you. I’m longing to hear your voice and I’m wishing I could read your messages again. I know you sent me an e-mail last week – which made me believe that I’m already okay because I did not cry! But I guess I did not cry ’cause I’m already done hurting. But I will never be done missing you.

Never.

Hey. I miss you. So much. So much that it hurts, again.

Unsent Letter #3

Hi.
 
Yep, it’s the morning after that last Unsent Letter. And I’m already feeling heavy at the moment. I am such a mess.
 
Last night, I felt this really sharp pain piercing through my chest. I’ve heard of that pain, they say it feels excruciating up to the point that it would seem like someone is crushing your heart inside one’s fist. At first I thought that that pain is ridiculous, or maybe they were describing it poetically. But after last night, I realized all those tales are true after all. That pain was different from all the others that I have felt before – it was off-the-charts, agonizing, and completely fucking crazy.
 
But I did not cry. I was just laughing at this feeling that I thought had never really existed. “This pain is real,” is what I would tell myself while laughing inside.
 
I did not cry because I spent my evening shower with a pail of water and a bucket of tears. Yes, it was another trigger night. I cried after that last Unsent Letter. It was a good cry. It was enough for one night of pain. As to until when I’ll keep crying? I have no idea. I have no intention of making myself stop because I believe that pain has to be felt in order for it to be eliminated. It has to be engulfed by your system and you should drown in it so the next time you get out of that pool of tears, you will come out stronger, tougher, and a better person.
 
That’s all for this morning. 🙂 I hope you are doing well despite the rains and the possibly-but-quite-surely bad traffic.

Unsent Letter #2

Hi.

 

I used your watch again today. I remember how happy you were when we purchased that online and how excited you were when it was finally delivered to your office. You said you sounded petty cause it was just a cheap watch but because it was something that you bought for yourself after a long time, it made you really happy.

 

I remember seeing this/that watch on your wrist, fitting your perfectly slim arms and fingers – those fingers that would hold mine, those same fingers that wiped my tears away that day you decided to break things off between the two of us.

 

Yes, it’s another trigger night. I’m such a fucktard, crying here again. I just wished like five minutes ago that it wouldn’t be but hey, when memories of us trigger, the tears fall automatically – it’s like I almost have no control of myself anymore.

 

I need to get a grip. I need to fix myself. I am such a mess right now, and it’s fucking crazy.

Paano?

Paano ba mag-move on?

Papaka-lango sa alak? Humithit ng ilang stick ng yosi? Magpaka-sasa sa pagkain?

Hindi ko alam paano magsisimula, kasi hindi ko nga alam na tapos na, e. I am still scared to face the reality na wala na siya sa’kin – hindi na siya sa’kin. I can no longer call her “Babe”. I can no longer go to her office and surprise her with food. I can no longer send her flowers (and she’ll text with surprised-happy all caps). I can no longer tell her how much I miss her. I can no longer tell her how much I love her. I can no longer call her my girlfriend and be proud of it.

Masakit, oo. Masakit na masakit. Sa kanya ko natutunang magmahal nang tunay – walang inaasahang kapalit; ‘yung pagmamahal na hitik na hitik. I guess all good things must come to an end. Kasi oo, we were a good thing. We were such a good thing that I thought we’d be invincible, wala kaming pagdadaanan na hindi namin kakayanin.

Simula magkakilala kami hanggang sa maghiwalay kami, I know I did things right. Binigay ko lahat hanggang kaya ko, and I was very selfless towards her (I would consider myself selfish, at times) up to our break up. Hindi ko ata kakayaning pakawalan na lang bigla-bigla ang taong minahal ko ng mahigit isang taon (it might sound short to you, but to me it felt like I’ve known her my whole life), but because I loved her enough to let her go so she’ll be happy, I did. I did, and it‘s fucking breaking my heart.

I can easily say that she was the best eighteen (plus three?) months of my life, but this heartbreak is also easily the worst.

That Kiss

All I wanted was a day with her – but I got more than that.

I got numerous lovely laughters, a couple of cute smiles, and a bit of a sensual kiss.

That bit of a kiss that unraveled the repressed feelings of wanting to kiss her.

That bit of kiss that unlocked the hushed passion of wanting to feel her lips against mine.

That bit of kiss that loosened the tension of wanting to feel her breath inside my mouth.

I stopped beside her house, as I always do, to drop her off.

“I hope my family’s not home… Ah they’re not home!” says she.

I pull over and go into a full stop. Turn on my hazard, pull up my hand break, and put my clutch to a neutral gear.

“Goodbye.”

Our faces started to approach each other’s when I suddenly feel her soft lips enveloping my lower lip; my hand touching her ear, down to her neck, and then playing around with the hair at the back of her head. As her gentle tongue slowly enters my mouth, I bite her lower lip delicately, sexually. Sucking her succulent lower lip, I motion my hand to touch her face, her neck, her arms. I remove my seatbelt, turn off my headlights, and went back to making out with her.

She lets out a playful laugh and starts touching my hair. She was slowly moving her body to my side of the car and I let out a sigh as I catch my breath inside her mouth.

“You’re never leaving this car tonight.”

She smiles, laughs out sexily, and starts to pull my head towards her. Her tongue was all over my mouth and my lips were sucking hers. I lean towards the passenger seat and put my hand to her waist. I was reaching for her back but I realized I wanted to just linger in holding her waist while I was giving her a kiss.

“Okay. Goodbye. Hahaha.”

But we just can’t get enough of each other. We went back to the cycle of sucking each other’s tongues and lips and caressing each other’s faces, necks, and anything that we could lay our hands on.

I give out a big sigh. “Okay. Good bye now.”

I asked her if she left anything in my car. Made her check her things, asked if she has her jacket, while I was staring at her beautiful face and fixing her bangs.

“All good.”

We smiled at each other, both with eyes saying, “I wish it could’ve gone on longer.”

“Okay. Bye!”

She gives me a hard smack before she stepped out of my car that could be interpreted as, “I’d kiss you again and again and again, unendingly, if this weren’t a public place.”

And that bit of a kiss left me wanting for more.

Possibilities, Probabilities

She doesn’t know how drawn she is towards her. Her feelings are clouded everywhere and she doesn’t even know that her feelings for her just keep growing and growing each day.

“You really like her, no?”

“Well, since you noticed it, I probably do. What’s bothering me is I don’t even notice how much I like her already.”

She had suffered heartaches, short-term happiness, and shattered promises. She enjoys relationships as much as she enjoys ramen. She loves sex as much as she loves making out.

“Just don’t rush.”

“No, none of that. Just that – all my pent-up feelings are now rushing to me. I know how to deal with my feelings but I just don’t know how to deal with her. I want to keep her but would she want the same?”

“Haha. You really like her so much. Haven’t seen you like this before.”

“Should I be scared?”

She has been wanting to feel the warmth of her hands clasped with hers ever since after that first meeting. She found out how she could keep her warm during the cold, how she could cook for her when she’s hungry, or bring her home when she’s too tired from work. She figured she can take care of her and would enjoy every bit of it.

“But are you ready?”

“I guess I’ll never know if I don’t try? I’m sure of one thing – she’s worth it. And I’m more than willing to take that chance because quoting Haruki Murakami, ‘…you don’t get chances like this very often.’ “

Endless possibilities, boundless probabilities – that’s what’s currently on hand.

She decides to go ahead and play all the cards she has in her hand.

The intimate and peculiar ramblings of a penman.