Coffee

coffee

coffee

“I need some time on my own. I need to know for sure if you’re really is the one for me. I need to find myself. I need to be alone. I’m sorry.”

Those were the last words you said to me before turning your back from me and leaving our favorite coffee shop. That was the last time for us, your simple explanation and your hurried good bye, everything was gone in an instant. I stared at you as you walked straight into the alley of Gregory Street, the street where I first saw you when we were still young. I watched you go, something that we would argue about the week after that event. 

“You should have followed me and hugged me or kissed me or do whatever you want. I want you to make me stay– do something. Make me feel that I am loved and that you don’t want me to go.”

You told me these on the phone the week after. I was awestruck. You never informed me that you want something like that but you knew of all people, that I am not that kind of person. I don’t go on the street shouting like it’s the end of the world for mere attention. My life is not a mini-series drama that the world needs to know as to what episode it is right now. I’ll repeat again, I am not that person.

I listened as you say those words again, those words that broke my heart the first time I heard them. I wanted to shout at you, to tell you that we had four years together, that’s not easy to leave behind just because you feel that it’s not worth it. How about me? How am I supposed to face something as shattering like this?

They said that nobody ever died out of being broken-hearted. Yes. Nobody died. Physically. Emotionally or psychologically speaking, I was in some way or another experiencing some kind of death. I would wake up in the middle of the night unable to sleep, staring blankly into the ceiling as my mind drifts into the past, haunting me of what we had and what we ought to have. Or, if I would have a deep slumber, in the morning when I wake up, I don’t have a single clue what to do. I would stare at the wall, thinking and reopening the same wounds over and over again. Asking myself what was wrong with what we have? Where did I go wrong? Or, was there some kind of someone who stole your heart while I was away searching for a wild flower to offer you? I can’t resist asking and blaming myself for the things that I never had the chance of knowing.

I drowned myself with sad songs. They said I need to stay away from the things that would remind me of you– your sweet smile and even the way you look in the morning when I opened my eyes. It’s not easy. It will never be easy to forget as the lyrics suddenly hits home–to where all the pain is coming from.

It was not an easy road to take– you know, that ever talked about path of moving on. The closing of the wounds and the forgiving part and even the part where they said you need to forget. Yes. Forgive and forget, so as no memory will haunt you again. No memory to reopen wounds.

It was difficult to leave that phase but ¬†finally I can open my eyes in the morning and brew my own coffee once again after so long of drinking instant coffee because it was easier to do so. Right now, I’m taking baby steps towards the door. I have learned my lesson. Some people aren’t meant to stay in our life. They move out, move on or move in and wherever they are right now, I don’t really care. I have a coffee to finish and a life to live. Good day!

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