Unwritten Draft

BAGUIO ; TUYA

I remember all the plans we made for the things we wanted to do.

The planning was soothing for my heart as you were so far away from me.

In the middle of the night, when everything is so quiet, and I wake up from my beautifully haunting dreams of you, I wonder if I ever cross your mind at all.

The promises, plans, and exchanging of thoughts, seem to float in midair—neither moving up nor falling.

It is as if they have no goals and were made mindlessly, aimlessly.

"How could you and I become strangers when we were best of friends till the last day? How could you abandon someone who loved you so endlessly? How could you give up on them and live your life as if nothing has changed?"

I love you.

And I miss you.

I cry for you almost every night.

Perhaps it is not you whom I cry for, but me who lost her innocence and childlike exuberance for love and relationships.

"I have loved you."

I have dreamt of raising little bundles of joy. 

I have dreamt of running after them while you watch in ecstasy.

I have dreamt of looking deep into the babies' eyes and seeing you twinkling.

That nose is yours. 

That little curve at the back of the ear. Gosh! That is yours. Look at her winking at me already. Isn't your habit?

That wink?

That smirk.

"...the forehead is mine."

The way she curls her little finger around me reminds me of how you grabbed my hand hard many years ago.

The date.

The coffee dates.

The picnic and movie dates.

That moment— was such a breeze.

Have you counted the number of times we have discussed this?

Every time you stuffed your face into my palms, I wondered if the rays on my palm made love to you.

That smile you flashed every time your eyes closed— I have dreamt of seeing that smile every day. Every single day.

I have dreamt of putting up with your terrible mood swings.

"those imperfections made you perfect..." I always said.

I started dreaming of exactly what you said: a tiny house perched on a hill. Decent jobs. A roof over the head. Kisses. Lots of kisses. Cuddles. Warm, warm, warm cuddles. Deep glances that would steal our hearts.

Dancing to our rhythm— dancing merrily to every chord you struck.

I had you.

"I once had you."

It is not just me.

Every part of my body has you in it.

My hands have dreamt of running over your back, rendering you powerless as I invade your soul.

And then your mind.

And then your body.

And then you stumbled hopelessly into my embrace.

"What a sight to behold, isn't it?"

My eyes have dreamt of savoring the look of your resistance, crumbling as I took off my sweaty shirt after a long day at work.

My shoulders have dreamt of seeing you lean every time you fought with your inner demons, unable to share it with me, fearing it might hurt me.

My shoulders.

Poor shoulders. They got dreams too.

My chests have dreamt of protecting you whenever you stuffed your face into them.

"Oh! this is my strongest fort," you said every time you snuggled inside me—my chests believed in you.

Every inch of my body, soul, and mind has dreamt of you.

You know I don't want to let you go.

But when it happens, every morsel of my erodes goes away with the departing memories... with you.

Time heals everything, they say. But no one speaks of what happened during that time.

I can't forget.

I should live with the loss.

I should convince my chest.

My fingers.

My shoulder.

My toes.

I should tell them that;

"everything you dreamt of was a fantasy..."

A fleeting fantasy. Fickle fantasy. Flimsy fantasy. Feeble story—frail and rickety.

I think letting you go is my greatest show of grit, endurance, resilience, pain,

and love.