FLY, PENGUIN, FLY.

It’s been less than a week since you shut me out of your life and more or less two weeks since we broke up, but it already feels like forever. I guess this is why I’m writing this now - even though I’m dead tired and hungry and want nothing else but cut my feet off, stuff my face full of cake, hide under the sheets and be miserable - because it feels like this is long overdue.

Whenever I feel like doing something about this, this funk, this shituation we’re in, I think about those last words you sent me. I was half asleep from a 14-hour shift from work when I read them, and by the time I opened my eyes again, you were gone. You had already left and shut me out of your life.

I thought about running after you, you know? But like I said, I thought about your last words for me. I thought about them really hard and realized how strong they were. I think it was one of the rare times you did something good for yourself to make you happy, because you rarely ever thought of yourself. You were always working hard for your team at work, or living in a tight budget to have something to give for your sibs, and you even had to ask permission from me to buy yourself your own shoes when you didn’t have to because you were buying it with your own hard-earned money anyway. You were like that. You always thought of others first before yourself - something I loved and hated about you. Rarely did you ever put yourself first, or not think of other people’s and my feelings first. Except that one time, the time you did something which broke us, but still. It was rare.

But this, your last words. They make me glad for you. I am glad that you’re finally freeing yourself from my chains. I am glad that you are finally standing up for yourself and taking charge, even if it is against me. I am happy for you. Happy that you want to be happy. Happy that you’d rather be happy than unhappy with me. Me and my emotional torture, the product of hurt. Me and my distrust. Me and my frustrations. I’m sorry. You’re right, of course. No one deserves that. 

So I don’t run after you when you decide to go. You have every right to keep yourself and your heart well hidden away from me. But as I am too hurt, I shall not stay here either. I am going too, but on a different direction. I have decided to move on and not look back (if I can help it) except this once because I owe it to you. I owe you many things. Things you’ve taught me, like love, and respect, and thoughtfulness and unselfishness. Most of all, I owe you an apology. I’m sorry for having treated you badly. You were right, you didn’t have to put up with the pain I felt, or my anger, you didn’t have to put up with my fears or lack of trust and patience and respect, because… I don’t know. I guess only family can put up with that part of me, and I guess it’s only because they have no choice. You didn’t have to go through that. After all, we were only trying to be friends. 

But even though I’m moving on, I can’t promise myself, unlike you, that I’ll never think and cry about you anymore. I always will, maybe. From time to time, randomly. When I’m going to sleep. When I wake up in the morning. When I wake up in the middle of the night. When I ride in buses and trains. When they make me slice fifty bunches of spring onions at work. When I listen to songs, or watch movies, I’ll always look for you in the lyrics, in the dialogue. But maybe one day my heart will get fixed. Maybe one day I’ll stop noticing things that remind me of you. Maybe one day, I will be happy too. 

Take care always, okay? I’m always praying for you.

Kapag dumating ka na sa puntong gusto mo ng bumitaw, isipin mo ang dahilan kung bakit ka kumapit nang ganyan katagal. :)

-from a friend’s FB post

The Original Lolly Store, Fitzroy, 2012.