I want to start this by telling you about a part of my past that I can still recall. So, let’s go back to the 6-year-old me from the early months of 2003 at a restaurant in a zoo theme park my parents took me and my brother to. I’m pretty sure that you’re familiar with endless lines, waiting to be finally seated, and happily enjoying your meal right after, right? You see, waiting for that was worth it, according to the 6-year-old me because I knew how amazing the food would be. We chose to be there. We chose it because we knew it’d be great for us. But as you grow older, you start to wonder if waiting is really worth it for things that you think might feel good or the best in the long run.
Unfortunately, I no longer believe in waiting.
Yes, you who made me wait. You who told me that you’d “come back” and that you only needed “space” now in order to get your energy back for “us” because “you love me and you love us.” And that “I’m different. I won’t leave. I won’t ghost you.” I believed every word, every sentence that I tried so hard to put my heart into because you refused to say it to my face and instead chose to text these words to me. I tried so hard to see your emotions through these sentences from a screen that made me tired of looking at and constantly thinking if you really meant them. That you would “come back”.
I’m not perfect. Nobody is, and I know that you never asked for me to be perfect. We’ve been through so many things — mountains and seas of pain, enjoyment, laughter and unfulfilled hope — only to be dragged right down where we hit our rock bottom without a shore to take us away from the rough grounds. It hurts. I know. It hurts you too. But I’d rather you tell me it’s over than keep me here waiting for an update, because uncertainty is another level of anxiety and torture. And I hope that you know that. I hope that one day you’ll realize what you put me into because I’ve realized what I’ve also put you into. You’ve put me aside like an assignment to be finished later or a task that you can procrastinate to. You paused my existence in your life in order for yours to keep playing while I’m here, wanting to press the rewind button or the fast forward button just so I can get over this quickly. I’ve been ignoring my thoughts as I put myself into a tunnel of unknown and darkness, drowning in constant in-denials and scenarios where you would come back.
It’s tiring. I’m exhausted.
I look at myself in the mirror thinking, How could you put me through this, but also, how did I let myself go through this?
I hope one day you realize that choosing the person you love and getting on with it together, rather than splitting things apart so you can decide if your feelings are still valid for someone is nothing but an endless and cruel cycle. You shouldn’t have to doubt what you felt for me. I wanted to interact with somebody, but you’re there at the back of my mind as I wait for you to abandon your space and instead join mine. But that will never happen. I’m stuck and I need to escape. I miss you, even though I know you don’t as much anymore. We used to always match with things — feelings, ideas, past and brutal memories. But things aren’t always meant to be and things aren’t always going to match.
So I’m ending this with the 24-year-old me.
I’m no longer waiting for anything, regardless of how good it may be. Whatever comes will come, and whatever goes will go. Waiting no longer exists except for the microwave’s ‘ding!’