They say work is the best antidote for sorrow.
Who are they, and why they said that, you ask? I don’t really know.
But I guess what they said was totally true.
Let me tell you that for 1.5 years I’ve been trying so hard to be okay with what happened to you and me, especially with the most bitter fact of you leaving.
Yes, I’ve been trying so hard not to think of you, and I’ve been trying so hard not to stumble across memories that makes me remember all about you.
Or, well, maybe the most accurate part is, I’m trying so hard not to let that certain feeling – of me loving you until this very day – taking over me.
But, you know, things aren’t always go smoothly like what we want them to be.
Especially on a night like this, where I just miss you so badly.
And, as I missed you, just like always, I did things.
You see, at times like this, I just go looking for a picture of us.
I saw a photo of us, and we looked so happy.
I was holding you, you were all wrapped around me, and we were smiling.
Me, in that stupid hair, and you, with that charming smile of yours.
We, were in love.
And, that was not all, I went around looking for our messages.
Some messages that I forgot to delete, and some of our old messages that we sent to each other in that dread messenger around 6-7 years ago.
And you know what? It hit me.
It hit me that it will probably take some time to be like that with you again.
And, what hit me the hardest was the fact that there is indeed a possibility that I will never get another moment with you like that– not ever.
Look, I did all of those, seeing all of those pictures, looking at those messages, all just because I want to remind myself that I matter to you.
That, at least, I did matter to you.
That it was not all a lie.
That for even just a glimpse in your life, I was all you thought about.
Again, it hit me.
It hit me that I might not again get to hear you laugh at my stupid jokes.
I might not again get to see your eyes roll everytime I’m being so stupid.
And I might not again get to see your eyes sparkle when you see me– those eyes that sparkles beautifully just like the stars at night.
God, I really love those looks of yours.
Those looks alone that could make me feel an adrenaline rush, as if I was high on you– as if I could consume you like a drug, inhaling and exhaling– as if I could feel a certain kind of warmth whenever you were around me.
A warmth that made me feel so whole.
Okay, I might still get the chance to smile at you randomly just because I love you, I even did it I don’t know how many times the last time I was with you.
But, again, what hits me is that the possibility of us ending.
Love, more and more I found myself thinking of it, more and more I also found myself at a loss of words and didn’t want to hear nor see anything.
It was as if all words, all things that my eyes could see, and all conversations that I could hear around me, seem so false and so empty.
If I could, I would just prefer to look at the sea.
Just like this right now.
Yes, it’s dark and I could see nothing but some beach line under the lights and some boat lights in the horizon, and also some fireworks that the other tourists lit up for fun even though it’s four days past the actual new year celebration.
And who the hell plays fireworks at 3 A.M in the morning at the beach ?
But again, I prefer to look at the sea, and to feel my face between its breeze.
Because the sea, whenever you look at it, always so powerful, yet so calm that it says nothing, but at the same time never made me feel alone.
Just like love.
Putting it to the extreme, maybe love has nothing else like it.
Maybe love is not an action nor reaction, and not a destiny nor choice.
Maybe it’s just purely a feeling, a real, raw, and unscripted emotion.
It’s so sensationally pure that it is unable to dull, even under the strain of the world against it, and it is also strong enough to warm the coldest of hearts.
I guess it is innate, and it is unavoidable.
And it is also.. Undeniable.
And, sometimes, love is unconventional.
It breaks all the rules and blurs all the lines and basks in its glory, shining as bright as the sun, unapologetically glowing even under the narrowed stares of society and its screaming, self righteous-morals, berating and judging that which it just does not understand at all.
Because, simply thinking of it, where’s the logic in being able to talk for hours about absolutely nothing with someone? Someone that you really love?
Love, nothing that we ever did was simple.
You once said that they were, yes, you could thank our love for that right now.
But, let me tell you that our every touch and moment spent together was electrified– if what we have isn’t love, then love just doesn’t truly exist.
Love, the salty sea breeze really makes me miss you like goddamn crazy.
And it also gave me a random thought that I ought to ask you:
If, at this time, right now, I come to you, to your room, standing right in front of you with flowers in my hand, what would you do?
Can you make out what it is ?
Can you see through the shroud that what I brought are flowers, and not knives ?
Do me a favor, take all the flowers and say thank you.
They aren’t knives, and they are filled with my love towards you.
Plus, they are real flowers, isn’t that a plus ?
What I’m saying is, I love you, and I miss you so fucking bad.
Please buy the ticket for earliest plane available, and tell me that you’re coming.
You could sit beside me on the sand just like what I’m doing right now.
And we could count the stars and see the sun rise later.
Now, smile, and carve that lovely curve in your face.
And know that I fucking love you– I do.
More than you will ever know.
Hugs and kisses,