It was painful.
It took me all the days of staring at blank spaces realizing that I was left with no one. All the nights of bearing my messed up thoughts and endless voices seeming to scream at my face ever so loudly the words, “you are never enough… not for him… not for anyone.” All the suppression of my sobs as I desperately gasped for air on nights I thought only tears were the answer. All the faking of smiles and talking to people when all I had ever wanted to do was crawl up on my bed and never wake up.
It took me panicking whenever my phone vibrated – hoping it’s you again, saying hello, or I’m sorry, or I missed you, or just any words that would symbolize that you thought of me. It took me looking at our photos together whenever I needed something to bring me down to earth again – you were my anchor. It took me forcing myself to wake up and face the new day because days seemed tedious and almost worthless. It took me crying while holding my pen as I wrote the words, “I want him back. Please, I want him back,” in my diary.
It took the littlest and simplest of things for me to remember you. From the snack food you brought to class and shared with me to the streets we once walked on and your favorite songs you’ve told me about. All your stories, your wacky faces, your notes, your smile – they were all still so vivid in my mind.
It took all of me to remember you. But it took me more to forget you – so much more that I didn’t even think I could.
But things have their own ways of ending, of vanishing – the same way what we had had faded so suddenly.
It was painful. But it also took me that time when I saw you again. You were sitting on the floor, waiting for your turn in line or something. It took me that time we had dinner again and our friends were all laughing at our jokes, enjoying the food. It took me that time I looked at you and you looked back and smiled at me. It took these little things to make me realize that finally, I was over you.
Because at last, it’s not you I miss anymore; it’s the memories.
It’s not your touch or your smile or your eyes or your mere presence that I want back. It’s the way we talked like there’s nothing holding us back, the way we looked into each other’s eyes like we can see right through what’s inside, the way we held our hands like they’re puzzle pieces that seemed to fit perfectly. It’s the way I felt whenever you’re near or the way you made me happy and invincible whenever you were around.
This is me getting over you. The crying nights turned to ones that I spent writing about you and to you to express the words I have always wanted to say but never did. The incomplete days turned to ones that were productive, remarkable, and anew. The journals once soaked with tears turned to ones filled with joyful notes of adventures and memories. The smile once fake and used as a mask for people to see now turned to a real, genuine one which I don’t need to force anymore. The heart once broken with its missing and scattered shards now turned to a stronger one – one that is still quite scarred but still keeps on breathing, one that still believes in love.
And this is me bidding you adieu. It’s time to let go and accept the fact that if we’re really not meant for each other, then we’re not. That maybe the universe just decided to make our paths cross but indeed, not all paths that meet are meant to stay together.
I am saying goodbye because I know that somewhere out there are the ones who were made for us to love and live with forever, the ones who are never going to hurt us, the ones who will never leave.
I am leaving, but not completely because only God can tell what were truly supposed to be.