It’s been weeks since I wanted to write something about what I feel. I am in the situation where I see no one but you. Every hour of my waking life; even in my interim death you are there. I have so many questions about us and I chose to remain silent because I already had the answers at the back of my mind. I just can’t imagine how I let myself fall for that dark and lonely pit where I see no escape. I should be the one to blame. I know that.
There are so many things that I like about you. First, I find you really smart. You seem to know everything from universe to politics. I mean I like how your ideas flow when we talk about things. Second, I admire how poetic you are. You and your riddles makes me feel I’m talking to Stephen King (now I’m giving you too much credits LOL). And lastly, I like the vulnerability I see in your heart. I see an innocent child longing for love and care. For some reasons I feel the need to occupy that emptiness I see in you. One time you were talking about an angel you often see in your mind, I kinda imagine it’s me. Assumptions. You see her as someone so bright with face like a lightning, dress as white as snow and wings so huge it could protect you from any danger. Another one was when you talked about that lighthouse and how that symbol meant so much. That lighthouse who could provide brightness towards the sea and eliminates all the darkness there is. I came to realize that all of those symbols were her. No one else but her.
When I met you, I know something’s going on like something is bothering you. You seemed troubled so I did not ask what’s wrong, instead I let you open up things to me which you did through the course of our conversation. It was her, your ex. I listened to you and I understand how you feel. My reaction sometimes might be unreasonable and too much but it pains me. She was once part of your life. And still is. When I asked you things about her and your relatioship before, you chose not to tell me thinking it might hurt my feelings. Yes, it did. It struck me when I found out we have the same name and you called me the way you call her. Can’t help but think that’s one of the reasons why you chose to communicate with me in the first place. You remembered her through me. It’s a torture inside. I didn’t want you to see me bleed that day so instead I put on a facade. I kept on telling you not to give up on her even though inside I want you to move on and forget about the girl who can’t fight for you. My alter self did a standing ovation of what I did, I was trying to be perky and cute and I managed it well I guess even if my heart is being stabbed with millions of tiny knives. I really felt the pain, literally. Why me? Why me M?