It’s very ironic how one can’t believe in a happily ever after yet he’ll be dreaming his own version of such, with the person he loves in it.
That moment before you sleep; that 5-minute pondering about life, or sometimes replaying a scene from the day over and over again, or even creating a mental slideshow of the snapshots you have of your crush, will make you cry. That may be a manifestation of how distorted our emotions are, we suddenly feel so sad, so hollow, when we think of happy thoughts.
The truth is, you don’t think. You are wishful thinking. Because you are lonely. Because you badly love somebody and here you are, crying in the middle of the night with no one to call because your friends are fast asleep, and you only have yourself to dry your tears. Are we not enough for the person that we love?
When I confessed, I was in tears; repeating the question over and over again, inserting it in the middle of our conversation, insisting in hope to get a different answer. But in the end, I’m still crying over an answer that I actually know even before I asked. I just asked because there’s this voice inside my head telling me to atleast try. To atleast ask. But really, I know he’d answer no.
I counted nights when I’ve been drinking, days filled with moments where I’d just stare at nothing in particular, asking what could possibly be my mistake, what I could possibly do or change just for him to change his answer. But I learned, it wasn’t me. It wasn’t even him. It wasn’t just for us. We weren’t just made to be an us. Of course, it was never easy to accept, because first of all, there’s no one to be blamed. Only tears to cry and a life to continue live.
Sometimes, life introduces you to happiness and then deprive you of it. One day, you’re walking to school and you see this person with glasses, slightly messed up hair, wearing this cute, button-up shirt and a smile that could blur the images around it, and right away you sigh deeply, clueless that your heart just fell; and that your sigh was actually trying to retrieve it. And the smile became an image, the image became a person and the person became the one you love. Wouldn’t it be more perfect if you two can actually be together?
But the only happiness you have, the one you see at school, walking in button-up shirts and smiling oblivious of your existence is in reality something which can never be yours. Yes, it’s excruciating. Because why can’t we just refresh the world and forget about the fact that you can’t be together and instead give you a chance? But that’s not how the world works.
So the moments you spent giggling upon his photo which was placed as your laptop’s desktop background were the moments you were silently killing yourself. It’s never a sin to love, nor to cry, nor to be a martyr. No matter how addictive the feelings of light chest and the sensation of dried tears are, the most important thing you must learn is when to stop. Remember that the simple pleasures you get by looking at his photos will never outweigh the nights you spent or will spend crying, the sheets you’ve wet, the walls ignited as you drag your back down, reaching the floor and sobbing silently; the wailing inside your chest turning into a painful knot.
Remember: learn to let go.