It’s been 6 months. I’ve been really brave and I guess I have tried my best being strong about it. It was really hard for the first 3 months, but as time went by, I guess I got used to the pain, loneliness, and hopelessness.
It got a little bit easier as I accepted the fact that he’s never coming back, but I admit that I still cry about it sometimes. I still feel a prick in the heart every time I see him, or when somebody mentions his name. I still wonder if he’s happy, or that if he still thinks about me sometimes. I still go about things that would update me of what he’s been up to, or how he’s been feeling about everything.
I just couldn’t help myself… I still care. The more I care, the more I hate him. And the more I hate him, the more it hurts. Sometimes I just wish I could be numb so I could ignore when he passes by where I am like he used to, or when I hear his voice, but it just pisses me off every damn time.
Isn’t it funny how this one person who used to give you the brightest smile now turns out to ruin your mood the whole day?
I guess I just can’t get over the truth that for him, I just wasn’t good enough to be fought for, nor to be sacrificed some things for. I’ve been through some things like this before but no one ever hurt me more than this. It just hurts. It hurts to be said “I love you” to almost every damn day and ends up being just not good enough. It hurts how loved, special, and precious someone could make you feel but could easily give you up without hesitation in just one click of your fingers. It hurts to be left hanging on to nothing, and by the biggest surprise of your freaking life. It hurts when you were not even given a choice left but to give up on something that you thought was real; on someone who you thought was different.
After some time, you wonder how, where, and when to start again. I mean it’s just so tiring to start from nothing all over again; to begin the same way you started just a couple of years ago, when you’re knees aren’t even strong enough yet to stand and walk after being scratched, hit, and crushed to the ground so many times. All you could do is crawl and just hold on to something, anything, just so you could move on like everybody else is telling you to. It sound so easy when you say it, “Move on, go on, forget!” but when you’re the one who’s crawling, when you’re the one whose heart’s bleeding to death, can you look at that person straight to his face and say, “isn’t it so easy?” How do you even say, “Oh well, at least I tried” when you know it was the only chance you ever took your whole life with your whole strength and heart?
You can’t even begin to explain how much it hurts just so people could understand you because somehow, you know they just won’t. How do you mend a heart that was broken by the same person who’s the only one that can fix it? How can you try to be strong again, to be brave again? It just makes you so scared to try again…
It makes you question why. If he never meant to catch you, if he never meant to be with you, if he never meant to stick with you, why did he even say, “I love you”? Why did he make you feel so important? Why did he even bother you when you were doing great before him anyway?
I believe that when you truly love someone, you wouldn’t have to ask that person what would you have to do to prove it. Everything you do automatically becomes all for that person’s happiness because his/her happiness fulfills your happiness too. You wouldn’t have to choose because he/she is the only choice you could think of, and no one else! If you really love that person, he/she would be the only reason to forget everything else, to leave all that you have grown to know of, because you would be the happiest person in the world just to have him/her; Because that person makes you the person you never thought you would be; because he/she brings out the best in you; because he/she’s all the reason to be happy, and to be loved. When you have found that person, you won’t let them go because even just the thought of not having them kills you.
That’s why I did not ask him to fight for me. I didn’t even cry and beg for him to choose me because if he really did love me, he wouldn’t have had to choose. Then we wouldn’t have to be suffering this much. If he really loved me, he would have known what to do. He wouldn’t even have to think twice. No one and nothing else would have even mattered.
You see, that’s what I did, because I cared for him, and I loved him. I took the hurt. I decided to give up and let go, even if I needed him, even if I loved him, because I found out that he loved me, but it wasn’t me who could make his dreams come true. It wasn’t me that he needed. He proved that to me when he didn’t choose me, when he did not choose to fight for me, when he chose to give me up for something probably worth more than what I was worth of.
If I really was the one that made him happy, how could he have let me go? And for what? For something and someone who couldn’t even love him more than I do, not like I do, not even close…
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