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Sunday, March 22, 2015

Hello.

I used to be the girl who waited for the phone to ring three times before answering your call, because I didn't want you to see how eager I was to hear your voice an hour after we've parted ways.

Hello.

I used to be the one you turned to every night, recalling the best and worst moments of your days, reliving your liveliest childhood memories, laughing at your most embarrassing deeds.

Hello.

I used to close my eyes and hear you peacefully breathing on the other line, out of things to say; never out of new ways to feel.

If I had known where you would go, I would have followed.

As it was, there was one click, and since then, life was nothing but a humming static.

Hello.

I used to lie in bed, under the blankets even on the hottest nights, afraid to share with anyone the happiness I found in you.

It was a frail, fragile one, but it was the best thing I've had. It all went downhill from there.

Don't you know? Didn't you know?

Goodbye.

You were my sunset. You took away all the light there was, and I had to teach myself to get used to the dark so that I could finally see the stars.

Goodbye.

The only word I never heard from you; the one I needed the most to close the door you left open when you went to chase things that made you happy, things that did not include me.

Goodbye.

You were the sizzle on my skin, the fizzle in my blood. You were all the things I never thought were possible. You were my lightest flight, the ethereal flutter of my wings.

You were my greatest fall.


Saturday, March 21, 2015

The hardest part about leaving without knowing where you stand is that all the days when you're away, no matter what you're doing, you'll trace your thoughts back to the place where you left your heart behind in someone else's hands.

You start counting the days. You take comfort from the fact that you're still living under the same sky, even though his bright, sunny days are your long, insufferable nights. It's not easy, making things work. Sometimes, they just would not go according to plan. You mark the days on your trusty old calendar. He counts the remaining weeks in his tired, trembling hands.

Somehow, you still don't know where you stand.

And you go through the motions because what other choice do you have? You see clouds and endless rolling hills where you used to watch his footsteps linger. There is little assurance that one day, the other end of the couch that is not your side will be filled with that presence again, that one that sinks the cushion but lightens your insides. Love, you think, takes so much effort, but not once do you ever ask if it is worth it.

Albeit slowly, time passes. He changes. You do, too. You realize that there was no use wasting all that time trying to count the days - they come in their own time. You take one step after another. He reaches out to you, the way you imagine a newly bloomed flower stretching up to meet the sun. 

The truth surfaces when you see him smile.

You are his sun.