"Keep my heart safe, okie?"
That's what you said, when we first fell in love. It was joy. It was warm. It was everything and anything what emotions could have felt. It was surreal.
We were younger back then. What people called puppy love. I was always amazed whenever I looked at you presenting, when I secretly glanced at you and thought to myself, "how am I so lucky to land someone like you?"
A year older, we progressed through. Life was actually getting better. We really made everyone else's doubts turn to ashes. They said we wouldn't last long, but here we are. Here we are against all odds. Standing through the test of time.
2 years in, what is a relationship without it's fights. But it took us time to really fight that caused nights of just constant arguments and crying. Back then, if you'd ask me, I would have laughed it off or lowered my ego. Because restless nights of arguing was solved over a meet up.
How beautiful, two souls created not to be far away, and when they do, they crave and long for each other's embrace.
3 years past, we were getting closer and closer, maturing through the years passed. Understanding what we both love, like, dislike, hate and just utter disgust. We were both working at that time, you with your firm, and me, with my internship. And all seemed to go a little too well for my liking. A bad luck that I am, I just knew something bad is bound to happen. But when I consulted that to you, you said, "Sayang, everything will be fine! There's nothing to be worried about."
Fourth year comes to greet, and we're already smelling like goodbyes. I was having my semester break from internship, looking through the options of career opportunities that may suit me. You had always been to busy with work, and I completely understand it. Arriving home at half past 8 every night, having to put up with the traffic, and the weather.
And the fifth and final year comes to a cold ending. You started to sending me dry feedbacks, we could have stopped talking for weeks and still I come looking for you. We could have not talk and you would post stories that you're hanging out with friends. I guess, they don't tire you much as I did.
I soon come to realize that maybe we weren't just meant to be. Maybe the flame from our candle of love burnt out, and maybe all of my lighters, matches can't light no more, and maybe your hands had enough of my warmth and had to choose someone who's hands are just nice.
And for the last time we ever talk, it wasn't even a talk. Just a text. I gave you a long text where I poured every ounce of my heart and you replied with a simple cold text of acknowledgment. And we sent our belongings back to each other. I gave back the books you lended me, you gave me back my flannels, I sent back your hairband, you sent me back all those handwritten letters and we just departed.
As if we met at the airport. Falling in love while we wait for our flight to reroute. And had to say goodbyes in the most awful ways, because two lovers, who had stood up for themselves don't just fall out. Maybe your plane came first, and that's why you had to leave in a hurry. And I am still here, waiting.
It could have been our 6th year, but now I'm already home. I was recovering. I took my time, fixing and patching up my old rusty heart. Until a ring at the door. I was in the basement, cleaning up the old house, and I hurried back up. Maybe it was the parcel where I bought Kiki his catnip and Raya clothes.
A sudden whisper, "don't open".
"Ha?"
"Don't open."
My hand was already on the knob, twisting from left to right,
"You will regret."
And as surprised that I was, a box, that same box, that I put your belongings, with a tape and a notice,
"RETURN TO SENDER"
