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I guess I’m more afraid of losing you more than anything else.

After all, there would be no logical reason that could explain everything I have done and more just so you can be happy, even if it means sacrificing my happiness for yours. I’ve left so much of myself behind, despite of whatever was happening in my life, just so I can crank up a joke or do something silly to make you smile. If I didn’t love you as much as I did, I would have never given a fuck, but you were the person whom I wanted to be happy so, yeah, I did give one big fuck.

I can no longer count how many songs I’ve memorized by heart just because you said it was our jam. How many movies I’ve endured because you liked them. I can no longer recall how many gifts were picked just so I could have something to give to you each time I visit, and sadly, how much of them were thrown into trash bins.

I also lost count on the number of people I’ve avoided, friends I ignored because you kept on saying that they are too flirty or too messy for your taste, even if I already told you a thousand times that they are not what they seem.

You have no idea how hard it was for me to let go.

You are clueless of how difficult it is to just let the memories slip away into oblivion. How I spent hours waiting for you outside your building and walk home with you. How I stayed up all night to make sure that when you have a bad dream, I was there to give you a glass of  water, a warm embrace and the assurance that everything will be okay.

You have no idea how I fended of gossips about you, about how you treated your exes. How I got mad at people for trying to ruin our lives. I even got into arguments with my parents because I wanted to prove that you are the person l I see: beautiful, smart, kind, loving.

I did these all for you because I know that the moment I lose you, I lose everything. You have given me so much to be happy about, and you leaving will take all of those away. I would be alone, again. Just like how you found me.

I did a lot of things for you. Things that made me look stupid, but I still didn’t care. I love you, that’s what mattered.

I still loved you after you ditched me a couple of times when I tried to introduce you to my parents. You said you had emergency meetings for work. I still loved you even after I found out that it wasn’t true and you just went partying with your friends and even if I heard from your them that you were saying bad things about my mom and dad.

I still loved you even after you made me wait for three hours at the bus stop, while the rain was surging. I still loved you even after I found out that you ditched me again and had someone else pick you up.

I still loved you even after you broke up with me because you needed to be alone. I still loved you no matter how that broke me. I still loved you despite how many times my friends told me to move on. I guess there’s nothing to move on from.

The memory of that cold November night, when you said “We need to talk” is still fresh in me. You asked me to see you at the park, and I did. It was full moon, and the moonlight shone upon us like we were in the spotlight of a never ending theater play. Oh I could give everything for it not to end. I still remember how beautiful you were, as if we just met. How you explained everything to me. How you wanted to break up. It hurt me.

I admit that I almost tried to kill myself that night, and wondered if you’ll ever hear about it, and if you’ll every cry and come to my funeral. Then, I started picturing how life will be dull without you.

I still remember how I wanted to see you the day after, wanting to see if the previous night was just a bad dream. I wish it was, but no matter how hard I slapped myself, I didn’t wake up. Maybe because I was already awake. You told me to fuck off and stay away but I really can’t.

You breaking up with me was the saddest moment of my life. If I could ever endure this, I hope I’ll be a better person because if I won’t turn out as a stronger man, then my life would just suck. Because nothing can ever numb me of the the pain of you breaking my heart.

But know this, everything I ever did, said or thought were true. I loved you. And now I’m starting to wonder if you ever meant whatever it was you said.


These are the mischief of mice that prefer to keep their personalities hidden, because we don't want privy eyes to know what are they up to.

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