Pretend oh-kay
Status: Pretension is my game.
Every waking working morning, I receive a message from you. Sometimes, only to say good morning, sometimes to ask whatever you didn’t get to ask the night before because sleep got into you. Sometimes, you wake me up with naughty bits of talks, sometimes you sing me a line from a song.
Every working morning, you’d be the first one to greet me with a buzz on messenger, saying random things like anime lines or ‘nandyan ka na pala’ variations. We’d banter and laugh, quarrel and kid, exchange stories and even obscenities. Never was a time we weren’t virtually together.
That was until you decided to go. Yes, I simply chose the kindest line to describe everything that happened between us in those fatefully difficult days. You stopped talking with me, save that moment you told me you hate me much and you don’t care.
You never cared, so there’s nothing new about the latter line but the former shook the sanity out of me. I believe you have absolutely no right to hate me.. absolutely. Don’t you think there should be a reverse of roles here? Definitely. But no matter how much mad I get from your unfounded hatred, I still can’t help but miss you still.
And yes, I still keep an open window of your YM – as if we’re still talking. I stare at it from hours on end, thinking if I should buzz you one more time.. But I always decide against it on the end. Why torture you more with my presence? But the open window, empty it may be, is healthy for my pretension show.
Status: “What makes me sad now is not that you are not here.. but the fact that we CAN live our lives independently.”
What’s the point of saving something that longs to die? How do you save something that has long been gone? Why do you try to breath air to something that is comfortable six feet under? How do you save something that hates being saved? I must let it die then. And I must let it rot. For there already is no hope in it, in bringing it back alive. I better lay it rest than suffer from watching it struggle with its last, gasping breaths. Let it die with dignity, and pride and grace. Only then can I live peacefully with eyebrows raised to all those times I was pathetically caring for the apathetic.
Characters can be deceiving, actions can be misunderstood. When heart is so numb with pain that it starts to stop functioning for itself, the mind then jumps into action, taking over, working through the unconscious level that even the one who owns it can’t stop it. Mine was unstoppable.. and explosive even.
******
I don’t think it’s very apt for you to hate me when you never appreciated everything i was for you. But then, I was never able to stop you from anything. You never listened to me yet you think trash about me. I really believe that love is blind. Because if not, how was I able to stay with you all these months? And if only you’ll let me, i’ll stay still.
Final Bow
Status: Two days and counting 
They say it takes twenty-one days to form a habit. This will then be the longest twenty-one days of my life. But it won’t be that hard, I guess. The timing couldn’t be more perfect. I’ll be extremely busy next week with lots of people around me. Immersing myself wouldn’t be that hard.. Before I know it, more than a week will be gone. On times I’d be missing him terribly, there’s always coffee and Zafra and maybe, just maybe, a couple sticks of cigarettes.
Adjustment is not difficult, it doesn’t pose that much changes in my somehow routinary life, anyway. He’s normally away, we don’t really see each other often. But I am missing having someone I could almost always talk with, from the most significant to the most trivial things. I miss having someone I can bother when boredom strikes or problems arise. I miss having someone who greets me in the morning. I miss having someone I can confide to without ever fearing that he might spill the beans if he gets mad at me. I miss having someone who will badger me with enough ‘umuwi ka na’ text to make me go home. I miss having someone who’ll tell me not to do this and that because he pseudocares. I miss having fights over trivial matters. I miss the seriously rare sleep hugs he used to give me. I miss the rollercoaster emotions we have day in, day out.
I guess I miss doing things for him, too. I love giving him shirts, that’s among the first things we did together. I love giving him medicine because I hate it when he’s ill up there and I can never be with him to ensure he’ll be all right. I miss looking for new stuff for him to try. I miss the fitting room trouncing. I miss everything.
We used to have plans for the coming days. No definite plans, just abstractions of what we would love to do. I hope that he’ll remember me even for just a fleeting moment once he gets the chance to do what we would’ve done should we had stayed together.
Should he change his mind and decides to talk with me again, I hope I haven’t gone that far away yet. I hope he wouldn’t experience from me what the past guys had. Speaking from a me who still badly cares for him, who doesn’t want him having a rough time, I want to protect him from myself. Because I am pretty sure that when I have gone far, I’ll either turn into a beast who’ll want revenge or a glacier who’ll turn him into an ice through sheer apathy.
