I loved him but... my heart died when it was clear what we had wasn't enough for him to stay.
Raining again. I always hope he'd end up thinking of me.
I always hope he'd come running by where i'm at, like he used to. He always try to find me, be there when I need support, and lingers his gaze to only me. That made me feel important and insecure at the same time.
I always hope that he would come near me one day and maybe do small talks or... address what we had.
"I'm sorry I put you in that position. Let's just be friends."
Those words I knew so well became the death of me for I don't know when it'll stop. It was clear but my heart still reached out in its dying feat, was trying to build the castle long gone with words of sweet melody she knew. Living everyday in a wreck sometimes making up scenarios what if she had done that or anything. For a month, she thought of that. And after that phase, after 2 months, I finally broke down and cried. I cried for a couple of times.
Flashbacks always appear whenever I would open my phone or doing something. A memory with him always presents itself in the most sweetest way possible, an army of prickled dead rose growing on my heart by twisting their way around her, crushing me and almost killing me.
"I'll let you go too."
The words I know he knew I never meant to say. But then you followed it with words I am quite surprised coming from you.
"This hurts."
It's supposed to be. But I am surprised he said that. I cried silently that day, not telling anyone what I felt. I didn't tell my sister that straightforward because I was loud and proud of him. I didn't tell my mother because I am ashamed of what I was screaming for towards her and how he was my crush. I didn't tell anyone. Every time they were out of the house, I would use it to cry every time. And every time, my heart would feel crushed, hard to breath and emotionally uncontrollable. My eyes would be puffy and it would take me a lot of adjustment before I could smile back at then again.
Until now, I always hope he'd come and talk. But at the same time I don't hope for us coming back together.
And sometime soon, i'd be able to give him the sweater. The sweater I can't stand looking at or let everyone look at it. They'd think pitifully at me and I would be embarrassed. I would give it to him with a letter saying to give it to someone who deserves better than what we had, someone he would be ready for and fight for in any way. Someone who captures his attention in a whole new way and would make him feel the love he deserves all along, because we all deserve that. Give it to the one who will always make him laugh and him be able to laugh whole-heartedly in her jokes, make him naturally be there by her side when it comes to distress and continue to be the man she deserves, where he would feel the need to be better and calm. Someone he'd truly love, in their own pace.
I hope he would take it and not dump it in my face, because I can't take the sight of it anymore. I haven't moved on but giving his sweater back would be a great release and the first phase of me letting him go, finally.
What we may had was untimely and a beautifully tragic love affair, but we had us and it is more than what art can be. At that moment, it was love. It was just short and destined to end.
