It hurts; not being enough.
I miss you, Continue reading
Why do I still feel like I’m a regret you’re too afraid to acknowledge?
Do you not realize that maybe I’m telling you all of these is because I probably won’t have a tomorrow to look forward to? That this could very well be my last day?
As storm clouds brewed over the horizon, you cried to me.
Lightning projected bizarre shadows on the walls of my dark condo.
As thunder resonated all around, your tears started falling on my shirt, staining my being.
You talked of the inevitable.
You talked of how this was a doomed relationship.
You said you would fight for me, and that then your father would kill you or send you away (to the US of A, perhaps), which is not something to be surprised about, since in your strict Chinese family, this practice is not unheard of.
You told me to not cry for you, and when this time comes, to remember the happy times we shared, and that our love will not be erased.
You told me to remember you, to remember us, and to look back and never regret what we had, though we only had it for a short time.
You told me to reminisce.
You told me to go on with my life, and to carry you with me wherever I may go.
Wherever the tides may take me.
And I couldn’t bear to tell you that perhaps our roles should be reversed.
That I should be the one telling you to stay strong and not weep for me.
That I should be the one telling you to please, please, please remember me after I’m gone, because no one else will.
That after all this time, I’m still not fully convinced that I have a purpose in this world and in this life.
And that when you found me lying down on the floor, in a fetal position, with all those pills around me, it wasn’t my first attempt, and though I always reassure you otherwise, it most likely won’t be my last, either.
I know you’ve opened my eyes a little wider, and made me happy in a short span of time, I’m still a little selfish, and this would be my last request.
I hope that when my next attempt happens, it won’t be a failed one.
And as I think of these things while looking at that angelic face of yours, lined with sadness and love and despair, a part of me dies a little. You have been my confidante, and I yours, but I couldn’t bear to hurt you more. I can’t burden you with such dark thoughts. I love you I love you I love you, you tell me, over and over again. I silently apologize. For everything. I couldn’t tell you what would most likely happen, that I would be the one leaving you (and not the other way around). So I stared into your beautiful eyes. In those long seconds of you only taking me in, I hope you discovered the truth behind my lies. I hope someday you’ll understand, and you’d be happy for me. I hope that even though no one would accept me and my reasons, you will.
That would be enough for me.