Sixteen Degrees to Reality

An absolute cliche. It’s raining outside and all I’m conscious of is the uptempo tapping of my keyboards. Tonight I have thought about him more than I’ve allowed myself to. For the first time since that day, I am experiencing… (thinks about typing the word)…

Pain.

I knew it was a Wednesday night. You told me how things have changed, how you feel that it’s not going back to the way it was. On that Wednesday night, I thought maybe, just maybe, if I cried a bit harder… Your strong hands would pick me up from where I was crying and wipe away my tears. Too bad.

Thursday, we both knew it was over. I thank you for laying everything on the table, and for answering all my questions. Kudos to you, there’s nothing left to say, nothing left to do. It was the perfect goodbye.

Friday, everyone saw me smiling again. I didn’t know if my voice was a little too convincing, or my smile a bit too wide. I was as normal as anyone could be, abnormal as anyone who had just lost her everything.

To all my dear friends, I’m sorry. I lied.

I don’t think I’m okay.

I know you’ve told me it’s okay to be sad, and I’ve always said it’s just too tiring. Ang dami nang beses na gusto ko kayong yakapin at umiyak nalang, pero pinipigilan ko lang ang sarili ko. And for what reason, I don’t know. But I thank you guys so much for being there for me.

I’ve been strong for 19 painful days. But I’ve grown weary of this pretense, so tonight, I’ll take a break, and grant myself this grief I deserve.

For the Schizo. You’re only the best I ever had.

I think we both agreed that it wasn’t "forever". You never were much of that kind of person. Do you know that everytime I hold you close, deep down, I knew this euphoria wouldn’t last long. I squeezed my eyes as tight as I could, cherishing each second until you’d let go…

Tonight I can smile while I think about those days. They were fun, were’nt they? I did nothing but to love you. Everything I’ve done was with the purpose of making you happy. But I knew there were times that I’ve gotten in your nerves, but with each mistake I did I knew it was my fault. I’m sorry for always asking where you are. I do worry about you. I’m sorry for all the things that have caused a great deal of, well, this ill-fortune.

I was paranoid, that I’m sure. But only because I knew something was wrong. Didn’t I tell you to stop keeping things to yourself? I’ve always given you what you wanted, and in the end, I still did.

I wanted to catch up with you, but it’s not as easy as I thought it was. My finger is still yearning for the ring I’ve decided to hide away.

Guess I should stop singing now.

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Tonight I can write the saddest lines. by Pablo Neruda

Write, for example, ‘The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.’

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that’s certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another’s. She will be another’s. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

translated by W.S. Merwin

Alright. I must’ve been quiet about the whole thing. Or I just avoided the fact that well.. It’s over.

There’s really nothing I can say about it. I mean, there was nothing left unsaid, nothing left to ask.

My friends have always been there for me and I can’t thank them enough. They’re the reason I’m still laughing and normal about.

If you call how I handle it being normal.

*blank stare*

There’s really nothing I can say.