When I walked home today, I took my time looking at the night sky.
And it was just as usual: pitch black night, no stars.
Yet, I took my time– I went for a slow and steady walk.

And I actually enjoyed the pitch black starless sky.

Because it got me thinking.
Or, no, it made me realize the state of my heart right now.
Is it pitch black? Yes; is it starless? Maybe.
But the similarity lies in the void that this heart of mine and the dark night sky seem to have: the same, dark, unknown void.

Let me tell you why.

Ever since she left this innermost circle of mine, she took with her a part of me.
True, she broke my heart, and she broke it to billions of pieces alright.
But, as the time goes, I began to re-arrange the pieces to its original shape.
It was a tough work, not to mention that I had to fucking do it alone.
Granted, the heart is back to its original shape– the same fragile, loving state.
Or so I thought it’d be.

Because it’s not complete– it’s in a different shape than the first time I gave it to her– than the first time I told her to handle it with utmost care.
In which, in distress and confusion, she threw it away like a worthless junk– successfully broke it to pieces like a mug being thrown into a floor.

It’s so different.
I could recognize it as my own heart, the same, old, tattered, familiar shit that I’ve had since roughly 25 or 26 (I’m not even sure) years ago.
But the difference is, it has a very big – huge – hole right at the center of it.
And I feel it– I am feeling it– all too fucking well.

Imagine a wooden block hole toy.
A toy that teach kids (I’m not sure the scientific side of this) to learn about shapes, by putting a toy plastic with a certain shape into its respective hole.
And, well, the goal is for the kid to put every single toy into the correct hole with the correct shape– to teach kid (again) about shapes and all.
At least I think so.
So what does it all have to do with my heart, you ask?

Because right now, it’s as if I am the kid, and the wooden hole, is my heart.

I’m not going to lie, I met a lot of girls.
And what happened is, I turned down every single one of them.
Because, it’s just like what people said: when you have seen better things, or best things, would you want to, or maybe, be able to go back into worse things?
In my case, I don’t think so.

Now, again, imagine me as a person with a block hole toy in front of me.
Only, this time, the wooden block with hole in it, is my heart.
Imagine it having black as its colour, and unlike usual block hole toy with so many holes, it only have one huge hole at the center on its upper surface.
And the shape of the hole? I don’t really know, it’s unique.
It’s so unlike another shape that I’ve encountered all these years.
But, the void is so noticeable, I’m feeling it all too well.

And I miss her, so fucking much.

It’s as if I’m being a little kid that doesn’t even know what shapes are.
And, facing this condition, what I’m feeling inside my heart is more than just a confusion, and it’s more than just wanting her to come back to me.
Because, now, it’s as if I’m trying to fill the hole inside my heart with so many shapes that don’t even fit– not even a single one from them.
Yes, I’m trying to fill the void she left in my heart.
Imagine me as a kid, repeatedly trying to fit a certain shape into the hole in his block hole toy, oblivious of why the shape doesn’t fit into the hole.
Only in my case, I understand that it won’t fit, yet I’m still doing it anyway.
A futile and stupid attempt, I understand.
But maybe, this is why usually people are using shallow relationship as a rebound after they’ve broken up with their loved one in their previous relationships.
And only to find that they can’t replace someone that they’ve previously lost just like that: using someone that doesn’t really fit inside their heart as a replacement– our hearts aren’t stupid, they are smart enough to deeply feel it.

And so, knowing that those things were, and are going to be futile anyway, I stopped doing it– I stopped getting the so-called ‘replacement’.
Heck, I’m not even sure I was trying to get a ‘replacement’.
Yes, all I’ve been doing is just trying to do something to fill the huge void– the hole inside my heart that’s been there since about 1.5 years ago.

And I guess, I have failed to do so.

Come to think about it, what does this means?
Is this love? Or is this just my inability to fill the hole myself?
Is the love that I have for her since years ago is just merely a constant crave for her to actually fill my heart with her love and presence?
Looking more closely, the hole has been there since years and years ago.
All she’s been done is just make it more unique– she’s been giving it her own unique crook and shape, all the more explanation why no other shape could fit it.

If what I’m thinking is true, isn’t love is just a cruel joke, then?
A cruel joke that left people to crave a certain someone so that their holes in their hearts could be filled with love and other kind of affections?

For thousands of years, no one could actually describe clearly what love is.
Well, I’ve been since long knowing that love is not goddamn rational.
So please scratch those stupid assumptions and thoughts in paragraph above this one, it’s just another weird theory that randomly came into my mind.
Yet, I could assure you that those thoughts are based on what I’m feeling now.

And so, I’m going to continue doing one thing that I’m best at:


Once again I’m going to put my heart in a cage, and securely lock it.
And because that’s not enough, I’m going to put it in a chest.
I need more than just a cage at this point– I need something soundproof, something that will make me unable to see my own heart every single day.
After all of those, I will still bury the chest beneath my daily things.
Beneath this filthy pile of nasty things called work.

So what if people call me a cold-heartless bastard with foul and straightforward mouth that frequently say things bluntly without sugar-coating anything?

Well, I’ll thank them for being so honest in speaking their opinions.
But at the same time, I’ll tell them that I will not give a single fuck.
Might not be that harsh, but I’ll make sure they get the real meaning.

Because, once again, I’ve reinforced my own wall.

And this time, I won’t let anyone in– no.
… Or at least I don’t know.


Dear Love,

The more I show my true self to people, the more they – the sensitive ones – could read and understand me and my condition right now.
Some of them could even say that I have trust issues after talking to me for few weeks, which is I think is a stupid but considerable feat that might not require much skills other than luck itself, I know, but still.
Maybe they’re right– just maybe, because as I wrote, I realized that I have subconsciously put up a very tall wall to keep people away from me.
No, they don’t scare me, that’s not the reason why I put up a wall.
And being terrified is not even a reason on why I put up a wall.
Maybe it is, but I don’t want to let some random people in without any given reason.

In fact, now that we’re talking about something scary, it’s not them, it’s you.

You scare me.

It’s not that you’re being scary like some sort of a ghost or something, no.
It’s that, you terrify me because you make me feel something.
Love, I don’t need to think or even understand what love is– no one should.
But, if there’s one of the things that I know for sure is that, it scares me.
I’m not going to settle for comfort because it’s familiar and shits.
And, just like what you said, I will not be content or even love you with what I know right now because maybe it seems like I’m waiting for you or you are waiting for me– no, It’s not like that– not at all.

Let me tell you these things:

I love you because you terrifies me– it’s like you have this new ways of looking at the world– solely because you are different, that there is some unexplainable connection that is pulling me back to you, no matter how much I tried to deny it.
You, love, made me feel something when I look into those eyes of yours– they attract me and terrify me at the same time– they changed me, challenged me, and at the same time, make me – you make me – and help me grow.
And, if you want to argue about love, well, what the hell else is our purpose on this earth than to live our life, and to love foolishly, fearlessly, and fully?

Love, I’m not afraid to feel something deeply.
I won’t hold back about it, and I won’t deny my heart the pleasure of loving someone up to the point where I will give that person – you – my soul.
And of course, I know all too well that in reality, love will never be easy; yes, that still scares me, but, at the same time, that’s the most beautiful part.
Love, you might scare me as hell, but you’re making me feel something.
And as much as I want to hide my own heart, I know that it’s there, and I know that it does still love you with the same – if not more – love since years ago.

You’re not ordinary– you’ve changed my whole life.

And at the same time, your love, has altered my – our – entire lives.









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