bittersweet love

it’s another night with nothing but a heavy feeling in my chest. my thoughts are swirling inside my head — remembering fleeting moments with you. your eyes are a vision for i see my future with you. it’s the bridge for our happy ending, but you chose not to walk with me and see the end of it, leaving me with no choice but to let go. oh, lover, why did you choose your ego over me?

you are an abstract art i have come to love. some will never get you for you are confusing and frustrating to understand. but i love exploring every piece of your being and admiring the beauty and loving every flaw. i was trying to unravel you, lover, why did you refuse my help and give up on us?

excerpt from the letter i’ll never send.

I saw someone who looks like you - the built of his body, the color of his skin, his hands, his nails, his watch, his cap, his facial hair, and the way he did the boredom gesture made me think it was you for a second.

I sat beside him because it was the only available seat left outside the doctor’s clinic, and for some unknown reason, I couldn’t help myself not to scrutinize him. Maybe I like the idea of you sitting there beside me or maybe, I just like remembering how happy you made me feel by looking at him. Minutes after, I’ve felt the negative emotions again, and I suddenly want to crack up at that moment.

To be honest, I’m tired telling myself it was all my fault. Now I’m starting to think you just manipulated me. I regret everything, and I hate that I still think about it because that was the last thing I was proud of having until I gave it away and you took it.

Of course, I can’t blame you.

a rose colored glasses: mt

i don’t know why i’m writing this letter i’ll never send to you. i don’t know why after months have passed, your presence is still here; confounding me every time i’m not doing anything.

i don’t know why i’m feeling this. we only talked for less than a month! god, i’m not one those girls who are easily get attached to someone, but you made me attached to you. i never expected it for someone i don’t even know.

perhaps in those weeks, you let me see a part of your soul. because baby, the connection i had felt while talking to you was real. i don’t know, maybe i just love the idea of you?

a rose colored glasses: my breadcrumb

You’re the only person whom I’ve talked to in social media that I can say I got truly interested in. When we talked for the first time, I said to myself that you’re something. There are qualities in you I’ve wanted for my future partner to have. I can feel that you can be that partner. You love art. You’re good in writing. You can take good photos. You can make a film and know how to direct it. You can play guitar and have a good voice too. You’re talented. You’re ambitious too, and I like it. You’re not like some men nowadays who are just “pa pogi lang ang alam.” You have plans for your career. You know what you want and need to make your dreams come true.
We easily got connected. We can talk about things intelligently. We can easily follow each other’s thoughts. Our conversations weren’t dull…at first. I don’t know if it’s because you’re busy that’s why I feel like it’s getting forced. It’s like you don’t put much effort onto it these days. Our conversation is always running about you now. It’s only about you—you only talk about you, and I’m getting bored. I also don’t want to talk about me because you’re not asking. You also aren’t asking for my selfies anymore, and I assume you slowly become less interested in me.

I’m being honest with you last time, and you didn’t get it. I told you that I’m getting bored of you, I don’t want our set up, I don’t want to waste my time—what we have is a waste of my time. Your answer? I’m just being too dramatic about it, and I’m overthinking things. Yes, I’m emotional that time because of pre-menstrual syndrome, but today, I don’t think I’m overthinking things.

I still don’t want to waste my time. I assume you only want a fling so you can continue the script you’re writing. I couldn’t give it to you, baby. Perhaps, we’re using each other. Perhaps I, too, am using you so I can write again. Perhaps we’re on that same chapter. But, baby, I hope you stop messaging me before I see myself getting attached to you.

a rose colored glasses: avd

July.
When you view my friend’s Snapchat story and asks her what’s my name, she started teasing me to you. When I saw your picture, I muttered that you aren’t my type, so I ignored it. My friend said to add you on Snapchat because you couldn’t add me, so I did. I also couldn’t add you at first, so you’ve sent her a photo of yours while pouting, with a dog filter and you’ve captioned it with “We’re not meant to be”.

Morning, when I woke up, there’s a friend request in my Facebook account, and it was you. I accepted your request, then that was just it.

August.
You saw my friend at Hepa lane. You asked where I am. You don’t know my name, so my friend kept guessing until you said “Snapchat girl”. She told you I’m not studying in Manila.
My friend couldn’t believe that you looked for me, so she called me up enthusiastically to report it. I don’t know why I’ve felt disappointed that you don’t even know my name.
I guess that’s when it started.