Please break my heart.
Break my heart so that I will write about you. Break my heart so that the whole world will know who you are. Break my heart, love me once more, then leave and haunt me again.
Please tell me you love me.
Because I know that you don’t.
Please make me wait.
Make me wait for nothing. Tell me to be patient. Tell me that destiny chooses the best timing, and that one day we will have what we can call “ours”, so that I will have something to hope for.
Please keep me away from the world.
Don’t tell your mom about me. Don’t even mention my name. Hide me in the darkest corner of your mind, so that somehow, I will feel special—only thought of by you.
And one day when you realize how kind of a person you are for doing all of these sincerely, please come to me. I will be waiting for you.
I will be waiting for you to break my heart again.
(image source: WeHeartIt user @Pink_Slippers)
When the music starts,
it doesn’t feel like something nice.
The trees say hello
but the doors bang louder.
It keeps on telling you
because you’re blue,
The tides splash in unison
that swallow you whole
down the seabed,
around the ocean floor.
When you tell yourself it’s time you do,
they remind you that you’re blue you’re blue you’re blue.
The streaks of your long, vibrant hair
fall under your lower hip.
But why do you sell yourself short?
The color of your eyes begins to fade
and your life has been miserable for the past decade.
When the only person you can trust
it’s hard to forget
(Artist yet unknown)
I examine the minuscule emerald circle that hangs slightly beside his portrait.
My fingers try to move around it and above it.
But they fail to click.
I don’t know how many seconds have passed.
Has it been minutes? Hours?
This staring contest with the emerald circle gets tougher. My hands shiver at the thought of his name popping out of my chat box. I try to get some air to free myself. My feet seem to know my signals because I noticed that I’m already standing up. One foot in front of the other, I tell myself. Don’t let a green dot take over your feelings. Keep your shit together.
I let out a squeal. I fail to notice my excitement until I find myself in front of my screen again. Is he the one who sent me a message? What would I do if it’s him? Would he say hi? Would I greet him back if he does?
A name pops out of the bottom right corner. My heartbeat goes faster and my throat becomes dry. I remember one time I saw him walking in my direction. His eyes were so focused, always calculating. When he passed me by, I froze. It’s not every day the hem of our shirts brush against each other.
That was on the same level of my feelings now.
I glance at the name.
I feel like I’ve been ripped apart to many pieces. I shake my head. I suddenly become nauseous. I touch my left palm to make sure I’m still alive. I’m OK, am I not? I’m not empty, but I do feel like something’s missing.
It’s not his name.
I remember I shouldn’t have had feelings for him in the first place. This is an odd mixture, after all. I’m just going to continue my ephemeral catastrophe. That’s the only thing I’m capable of when it comes to him; to look at his name on my screen and hope that he’ll say something to me. But obviously, he never does. I’m so disturbingly pathetic.
The emerald circle fades beside his name.
I realize I’ve been observing for too long, and now is the time to stop. I feel a twinge in my pulmonary muscles as his name vanishes. He logged out without saying anything to me. I guess I’m just not that important to him.
Never was, never will.
(artwork by Andrej Mashkovtsev)
No, I’m not a friend who overthinks a lot
No, I’m not exaggeratingly sensitive
I just care about my friends in a way that’s too obvious
because I can’t afford to lose one again
when I already lost a dozen.
The clash of a tornado and an earthquake can bid you goodbye. Rift valleys are present. Our diverging friendship creates tsunamis that consume our never ending arguments. I’m going to express myself in my own language, so let me say this in Tagalog:
“Hindi ako OA na kaibigan, manhid lang kayo.”
I’m traveling around my own yellow brick road which still has a touch of immaturity, but I’m not going to lie about me experiencing too much. My body becomes torpid whenever I hear somebody complain about my concerned deeds. Especially if it’s one of the closest human beings I treat like family. It sucks. It’s like being slapped in your cheek, except it’s an emotional pain. When I try to touch it, the affected part spreads like wildfire in my body. It goes red. My whole body goes red. I taste sour blood on my lips and sweet despair in my soul.
I’m tired of being treated like I don’t matter. One time we had an argument, and I was the only one who cried. The pain felt like my insides are being squished by a cactus. It was an oceanic-to-oceanic plate boundary. Insecurity wakes me up in the middle of the night and they know that. I’m also a professional jumper. I jump to conclusions. So when everyone has told their sides, I was petrified. I didn’t expect truth to be so derogatory. I guess I just have to live with that.
I don’t exactly know how to live with pain. I just do. And even though I have ridges in my ocean of tears, I still forgive. My friends are my epicenters, they are sources of my earthquakes. And somehow, I think we were once the Pangaea. But now we’re divided into 7 continental plates.
(picture from Baptiste, “Stunning Satellite Photos of Earth From Outer Space”)
We were the seasons together. Like roses, we bloomed with sophistication.
I trace my palm and remember our shared memories together.
I know this because I’ve felt it before.
It’s you all over again.
But there is the now.
Now is different.
Back then, I used to inhale the icy fog that surrounds us and exhale the things my emotions dictate me. How did I manage to treat you below zero degrees while having fragments of falling feelings for you? Crazy. One of them tells me that we were lucky to have each other, although “have” isn’t really the word for us. The truth is, there was never an ‘us’. But we had something for each other, something that was ours and something to fight for.
I can still clearly recall the weeks I kept avoiding you. My dilemma was swirling in an unending haze and I was caught up in it. I want you, but it seems complicated. When we pass each other at the halls, your eyes won’t set mine free. That’s when you do it. Your ‘look of home’. I felt guilty at my silent treatment, but hell, I wanted to snuggle up in your arms. Your sincerity, your protectiveness, and the look you used to give me when you were hiding your jealousy. Those are the things that I keep glued to my mind after all this time up to now when I stop and stare at you without you noticing.
But now, you have her.
I know you guys love each other, so I’ll pass.
However, I’m still thankful for the summer embers you ignited me with. Now I know that I can soar and touch the clouds. I know that someday I’ll miss your presence but when that time comes, you won’t be here with me. You’ll be with her. You’re the curtains that brush against my skin on a windy day. Once you touched my heart and felt my soul, you’re ready to leave.
But thank you. You became my hardest goodbye unexpectedly. Someday I’ll grow a garden out of all the seeds you planted upon me, and the seeds we planted together. And by the time everything is less complicated, I am never going to let you go again.
(painting by Clare Elsaesser)