Every Scratch Has a Story

I admit I may not be as articulate when expressing my feelings in front of you... 

Here's the letter I wrote some time ago... prepared and kept, for this moment that may be the last. 

I need to do this. For both you and me. 

I need to do this for me because seeing you and being in constant contact with you only does harm to my feelings...

My blinded happiness causes more confusion and distraught to my heart and mind – that sweet feeling of having you around, yet, with the knowledge that we can never be (which you unfalteringly remind me about). 

This, too, is for you, because I don't want you to feel pressured every time I bring up, express, or talk about my feelings. This "space and time" will lessen the burden of you evading statements and questions that make you feel uncomfortable... Especially when I ask that grueling question "why not?", "why can't it be...why can't it be the two of us?"

I just need this time to finally face facts and try to move on. Believe me, I've tried, yet failed. That's because I hoped. Hope and reality sometimes do not coincide in this part of the universe, it seems. 

Granted I will never have the same "good" mornings, days and nights... I will not get as much random calls in the office anymore, with topics about anything and everything under the sun. Most of all, I won't have you to look forward to every waking moment of every day.

To cut the drama short, I apologize for not being exactly what you wanted me to be – a "friend." Here's what you have to understand – I can't fully be just a friend to you, at least not while I still have feelings that hinder me from being such.

I will still be here when you need me... We can still hang out... but, sadly, for me, not as much as we used to. You can still talk to me and I will still listen.

I need to do this. It pains me so but I'd rather go through this than struggle each day with questions like "will you ever feel the same way?" or "why can't we be more than just friends?"

At the end of this "time apart", I hope the only question I'd ask you and laugh about while asking it is "what was I thinking??"

Till then, I hope you'll be great as always... I hope you'll find more happiness by being with someone who truly and fully treats you right.

I hope you find someone who will never get tired of talking to you, listening to everything about you that makes you special – your baby talks, random questions, calls of nature, thoughts, dreams, rants, etc. Someone who will love you and everything you love, just because it makes you happy. All in all, I hope you find someone ho is every thing you've ever wanted, who, in turn, wants you the same way and even more. 

You deserve much more, much better than all those who were foolish to lose you.

Lastly, thank you. Thank you for teaching me how to be patient, by telling me to "behave", by making me wait for something/someone I really want. Although, as I always say, patience is virtue... not always rewarded. I mean no bitterness with that. 

Thank you for your time, your presence, for keeping me company at any time of day (even if you're on the other side of the metro). 

You made me constantly better myself (partly to make you realize that I'm worthy of you and partly for myself). Thank you for making me see how capable I am to love this way. 

I hope you understand. It won't take long, I hope. See you soon.

And so it is. And so it goes.

And so it happened...

The moment I've been waiting for and, at the same time, dreading, finally happened. 

I didn't know where to start, how to start it... I just let it. My last and desperate attempt to save the little pieces of what's left of my heart. I asked you the question that has been tormenting me for quite some time now. The question that requires an answer that can only make or break my heart. The question that will bring silence to my wandering soul.

"Remember what you said before?"

"What did I say? I don't remember."

"First, you said the big, fat no... Then you said 'one day at a time'... And a big fat no again..."

"Okay, yeah. What about it?"

"Well... well... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to trap you into answering this question right now, like this. I just don't know how else I'm going to ask it..."

You listened attentively, knowing what was about to come. As I inched my way to telling or asking you what I've been meaning to ask for so long, the feeling of anxiety was slowly fading away. The anxiety of what you might say -- yes or no? Through your vibe, I greatly felt what you've probably been itching to sa. It definitely wasn't the news I was hoping for.

You wanted to talk to me about this tonight, as well. Only, I beat you to it. After my long litany, which you were kind enough to let me finish, I listened to what you were bound to say. 

After stuttering, breaking my voice, losing the will to think straight, I was able to manage to let my feelings be known and be clear to you. It was hard. It was like breaking up with someone, only there was never a fight, no one cheated on anyone, and no one fell out of love. It was more of losing the battle that was only one sided. I raised my white flag. I let you know my concerns, and the pain of being with or without you was evident through my actions. 

Rejection is never easy... 

"I hope you know I'm enjoying spending time with you and getting to know you more. Because I am. I didn't know that you were struggling and it was hard for you...

But... thank you. 

I would totally understand if you wouldn't want to talk to me for now. It would be unfortunate, but I understand."

But I had to. And I'm sure you felt the same way, at least in this part of the equation. Apparently, the only mutual thing we've felt. It might hurt you to somehow lose the consistency of our friendship, or lose me as "that" person, for now. But you felt it was only proper to suffer that bit, so that I wouldn't suffer the prolonged agony of being the "friend" who is deeply infatuated by you. 

I want to make you happy, for sure. That's why I'd want to give you what you want. But giving you what you want entails that I lose a major part of me... the part that wants you.

We said both our pieces, met halfway and came to a close... I bade farewell and made sure that you believed me when I said "I'm okay". 

"I'll let you know when I'm good, already." 

"Please do..."

It wasn't anything unexpected. It was. You gave me a peck on the cheek as you left for your car. My mind went blank and just thought of one thing –– rock music. Turned on my iPod, chose the rock playlist and pumped up the volume. It was over. It is over. The screeching instruments, heavy bass, angry lyrics just soothed my soul. I had this delusional theory that only rock music can slowly drain my rage into this deep well of emotions. 

I drove off, alone and in the dark. Staring blankly at the streets, the cars, the lights, was when I realized I needed to get some money. I thought of going back to where we said our goodbyes. Going back only made me think the unthinkable – that you'd still be there, sitting in the darkness of your car, staring blankly out your windshield the same way I did. 

No, you weren't there. Of course. It ain't wishful thinking if it isn't far from possible to happen. 

I did everything in silence, with only the unique noises of the environment playing in the background – the original soundtrack of this so-called night. 

I was thinking of what you said, "Text me when you get home, at least," when I stalled some more before reaching the bank. I arrived home, greeted my mother, who was more than glad to see me home that early. Only I was neither in the mood to chat nor to watch American Idol with her, so I walked on to my room, placed everything away in silence. I could only hear my countless brushstrokes as I was thinking of you and what just happened.  

Finally, I picked up my phone, typed in what I'd usually text you, topped with an usual cherry. 

"Am home already. Good night, (your name here). :) Thanks for everything."

You replied. 

"Good night, (my name here). Thank you, too. :) "