All my life, I’ve always been fat. I grew up believing that. I grew up with people telling me how round my face is and how big my arms and thighs are. But looking back through my old photos, I won’t say that I’m fat. I don’t know why I felt that way before. It pierced through my bones, but I didn’t actually give a fuck. I didn’t take it personally. I considered it as a fact rather than an insult. I was okay with it.
“Why can men cheat and we girls can’t? Men steal girls so why can’t we steal guys too?” a girl cried as if it weighs much importance. This is not about sexism anymore. No one has the right to cheat or steal—regardless of gender. That’s just pure evil.
You always get to choose. Some people even take other people as an option. Sad truth, right? So, you don’t tell me that you don’t have a choice. You do. We always do.
You do have a choice and you chose to enter the picture where you weren’t supposed to be in. Why?
I don’t know you. I only have seen the details and some pictures in social media and I’m not really sure if it’s all true. Regardless, I’m sorry. I heard that maybe you got too pressured with your school and you didn’t get the passing grades. I’m sorry you thought too much importance of such mundane things. I’m sorry the society fucks up with these standards. I just want you to know that your intellect can’t be measured by how well you do in academics. I heard your boyfriend just broke up with you. I only could imagine how much it tear you apart. I’m sorry you had to go through such heartbreak amidst other tough things already present on your plate.
I’m sorry if no one saw it coming. I’m sorry if you had to go through depression alone. I’m sorry it all happened so fast—so sudden. Or maybe not.
It is so hard to see the reason when you are in your lowest point. It is so hard to think when you don’t even want to; when you just want to shut the world out and just let this irrevocable sadness eat you whole. It is so hard to listen when there is nothing but silence. It is so hard to believe when you are so scared.
It feels like I haven’t posted here in ages, though it’s just been 5 days since my last. I really feel like lacking of sense with blogging. So, to make it up to you. I’ll post here the article I submitted to Thought Catalog. Yes, I always write. Some are just not “blog-worthy”, I guess.
I entered the café and a sudden thought of him came flooding in as I breathe in the aroma of caffeine. He never liked coffee but he still accompanied me whenever I wanted to have a cup. He even let me switch our drinks whenever I felt like mine is too bitter and his is sweeter. That’s how I’ll remember him, a little mixture of both.
Did he tell you?
We broke up because he no longer loves me like he did before.
Yes, he said that. Can you call it love if it fades? I know how it felt like. 6 years ago I broke up with someone because I wanted to focus on college. My excitement for a new chapter in my life got the best of me that I didn’t want to commit myself on anyone. That sounds so cliché but it’s true. This guy thought I had someone else. So, yes I know how it feels like to start to fall out of love. I totally get him. It’s possible but that doesn’t mean it’s inevitable. Love is a choice.
Also, he said he couldn’t give back everything I was giving him. As if he needed to. As if I demanded too much. I didn’t. All I wanted was his love and his time. Maybe I expected so much from him when all I really wanted was to spend time with him. He felt like home. I was so comfortable with him. Do you know how much warmth he can give when he wraps his arms around you? I think he thought his effort didn’t mean a thing to me. I’m not sure. I’m not sure of anything now. But I let him go. You know why? Because I love him and he promised to come back. I hope he told you that. He promised me he’d come back. He just wanted to fix himself, to be better. It made me sad that he couldn’t get himself better while being with me. But I let him go because I know how it feels like to feel lost. I know how it feels like to have your ego be bigger than yourself. I made up a lot of things on my mind just to understand him. I tried so hard to understand him.
He promised he’d be back so I waited. I hoped and I waited but that day never came.
I didn’t see it coming.
At 21, I have all my life planned out. I thought I got everything figured out. Then, you entered the picture. There was just too much sadness in your eyes. I guess that was what made me so drawn in you. I got so obsessed in fixing you that I broke myself in the process. I depended so much in you that I didn’t notice I let my life revolved around you. You and only for you.
You were there when my parents separated. 22 years of marriage gone. Since then, you became my home. You are my home. You made everyday felt a little better and lighter. You made everything seemed easier. 22 months after, you were breaking up with me. I guess the number 22 doesn’t really like me. Well, I don’t like it either. You made me think that I could build a happy family despite having a broken one. Now, I’m not so sure anymore.
We all have everything planned out. Now, I am more lost than I’ve ever been. Maybe, this is how it feels like to have your heart broken at 23. Sure, I have a life before you and I can surely have another after you. But it just doesn’t feel right. Where will I live now when we already have planned where to have our own house? What will I call my future children now when we already named them after us? You stained my future. I feel like I will always be haunted by you because this kind of love stays like a birthmark.
I saw it coming.
With your shortened calls and cold messages, I know you are starting to slip away. It sucks because I couldn’t do anything about it.