Look at yesterday’s date.

Well, it was nothing important.
Saturday, January 16th, 2016.
So why did I mention yesterday’s date?

Hours ago, I was just got back from Church.
On Saturday? Why, of course.
And I thought I’ll go to a certain bar and sit just on the counter.
I thought I’ll continue to write the sonnet there.

Writing while drinking ?
Well why not ?
Alcohol makes you creative.
And tipsy. And drunk, of course.
So please, always drink in moderation.

But unfortunately, the bar was full.
So I went to grocery store.
I thought I’ll buy a bottle of beer for tonight.
I’ll drink and continue to write later at home.

And then she messaged me.
She wrote a post on social media:

“For singles, today is 16-01-16. Good date. Just saying.”

And I told her:

“16-01-16 is a bad date. I got a way better date than that.”

And I didn’t tell her what date it is.
But I guess she knew what I wanted to say.
And maybe you lot know what I wanted to say.

Of course, it’s our anniversary date.

I wanted to say that date is the best date ever since 2016 years ago.
But I didn’t say it.
I was afraid that she might say something that would break my heart.
Or she would say nothing at all.
The latter is more likely.

I don’t know. I just.. I just don’t know what to do.

I miss her, that’s an undeniable fact.
Everyone that has read my posts since days ago has already knew it.
I love her dearly. That is also an undeniable fact.
I would literally move mountains for her if I could.
Metaphorically, I really would move mountains for her.

It feels like I just can’t say it directly to her that I love her and miss her and all.
But on the other hand, my feelings for her are just getting stronger and stronger every single day.
And I have to pour it out.

But on a bad day like this, I just cant find any words for my poems.
Yet I doubt if I should tell her how I feel directly to her.
Well, I said it to her numerous times already, though.

Yesterday. Two days ago. Four days ago. Six days ago. And the days before those.

And she said nothing.

Honestly, I did NOT expect her to say anything.
I do understand her condition and all.
But sometimes, sometimes I wonder.
Am I doing something wrong by saying I love her and I miss her?

Again, I don’t know.
Damnit. I began to overthink this thing ever again.
I said to her that I won’t overthink this thing and just do whatever I want to do.
Well, I am actually doing it, tho.
Minutes ago, I just asked her if she is able to do Skype call with me.
And she said no.
It’s not because she’s busy, but it’s because she just doesn’t want to talk to me.

I clearly remember that she said she and I could talk directly and do Skype call sometimes.
But she still doesn’t want to do that.
What’s worse, she didn’t tell me the reason why.
I just don’t understand her reason. I really don’t.
Perhaps that’s why I thought there’s something wrong with me pouring out my feelings directly to her.
Or even to people.
Maybe that’s why its just so hard for me to speak my feelings directly?

But I’m trying to understand her.
There must be a reason she did that to her.
Yes, what she said hurts me just a little bit.
But isn’t it going to be better if I just try to understand her than judging her?

Speaking of which, she wrote a poem.
In our language.
I was amazed.
Happy that she finally wrote something.
But I’m also having a difficulties understanding what the poem meant.
Well that’s not the reason I stayed up until morning.

I felt something.
Something different.
Something sad, something hollow.
It’s like a mix of severe yearning and love with a hint of understanding.
And a slight confusion as the aftertaste.
With a special kind of pain in the pit of my stomach as the finish.
I tasted the flavour plenty of times.
But I can’t fully understand it.

And I tried to write something.
But like I said, I can’t find the right words to describe my feelings.
I scratched as many as 5 pages in my book.
I tried to make an essay out of my feelings.
But I can’t put it into good words.
All I did was just barely numbing the pain on the pit of my stomach.
Only to let the pain came again in the end.
It didn’t disappear.

I’m exhausted.
Physically and mentally.

Perhaps I should get some sleep and continue to write when I wake up.


Dear Love,

I don’t exactly understand the poem you wrote.
Who am I? Who are you? Who is he/she? Who are they?
I asked you but you didn’t answer.
You went back to do your assignment, ignoring me.

The poem evoked a feeling for me.
A feeling I described above.
A feeling that I can’t quite address until now.
And I still can’t.
All I could understand from the feeling was the longing I have for you.
Latching like a parasite.

Those aside, I was happy that you wrote something.
I was happy that you were able to pour out your feelings to words.
It was beautiful. And it felt way better than any poem that I wrote for you.

Love, it feels like we both have our own challenges that we need to overcome.
Mine is called patience.
I have to make peace with time.
And I have to have better understanding about us.
I have to understand that everything about you now will take quite some time.

And yours is called.. Perhaps believing.
In trusting and believing people.
In putting faith to others; because faith isn’t always between us and God.
I know you need to arrange pieces of our puzzle once again after someone messed them up.
And again, it takes time.
I guess both of us just have to be patient and make peace with time.

But don’t stop believing.
And I’ll train myself to have a better patience every single day.
Don’t let your temporary feelings control you with their filthy hands.
Address them fearlessly, and defeat them.
Believe in me, in yourself, and in us.
It will take time, but I believe we both will get there.

Most of all, do NOT ever give up.

Because good things always comes to those who believe.
Better things always comes to those wait.

But the best things always comes to those who don’t give up.

Always remember that you will always have me.
I will always be there for you. Always.
Let’s continue to strive to be better everyday.
Have Faith!





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