This Is The Last Time I’ll Write About You

I have spent months trying to find the right words that would best describe our story.

For months, I have been trying to write the words he deserves, what I deserve, what our story deserves. But for months, I couldn’t write. Everything was empty. There were so many things that I wanted to say but I couldn’t bring myself to write them down.

Right now, here I am, writing, but this is my last.

This is the last time I’ll write about you.

There were moments when I felt that we could conquer the world. During those moments, I felt strong, whole, and happy. I used to think that in spite of a bad day at school or at home, I’d be okay because I have you. At the end of the day, you’re going to tell me that I’ll be okay because you got me. At the end of the day, you’ll assure me that this is just another storm that I would have to endure. You’ll tell me you love me and you’ll remind me I’m strong. You won’t let me sleep until you know I’m finally okay.

You were the reminder that despite the toxicity and the tempest people could bring, there is still the good. You were one of the people whom I get my strength from. You were one of the people that made me believe in myself. You were one of the people that inspired me to keep going and change the world for the better because people like you deserve to live in a bubble that I’ll gladly protect and take care of.

Maybe we got tired. Maybe we didn’t love each other that much for us to stay or maybe we just gave up too soon. Worse, maybe you just didn’t see anything good in me for you to stay.

We both thought that this time, it’d be different. We thought this was it – our chance to love each other freely, wholly, happily, without fears and our anxieties. I thought we were stronger. I thought this was the better versions of ourselves loving each other but one set back proved us wrong.

I wish you stayed. I wish I fought harder. I wish you’d tell me you’re here.

During that night, I felt it all at once – you giving up on me. It was heavy. It was like all the pain I’ve been through for four years was replayed that night. It was like hearing and feeling you slipping from my hands, from my love, from me. It was like hearing every hurtful word someone said to me all at once. It was the most painful form of betrayal. It was every promise being burned to the ground. It was every dream being forgotten. It was every sweet word turning sour and sad.

It was every “I love you” being turned to “I’m sorry.”

Maybe I was too optimistic for thinking that we’ll get through this. Maybe I was too hopeful for thinking that we’d be the couple who’ll show others that despite everything, we were able to pull through. Maybe I was too unrealistic for painting us a future and seeing you in my sunrises.

We both wanted us to happen but we didn’t let us happen.