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I stop counting time thinking it could make me forget about you a bit. Funny thing is you’re still everywhere. Doing things I used to love makes me remember you the most. You have that thing in you that keeps me wanting for company. I’m suddenly having troubles staying alone where in fact it was my forte.
I knew you by name when we were thirteen. I’ve only seen you once in college and we’ve never really exchange words back then. But those sleepless nights in summer did somethin’ to me that I’m kinda sure you didn’t feel. Why you ask? Just because you chose not to.
I don’t know if it’s our distance and times zones that took our chances away. That question remained as it is coz we stopped talking. It took me two chances and loosing someone I dearly love to realized that time shouldn’t be wasted. That anticipating you despite your uncertainties isn’t something I should look forward to.
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I regret cutting ties coz I thought I found a friend in a potential lover. I genuinely open myself, break my walls little by little, only to find myself asking same questions of unrequited feelings I’ve had before. Only this time, it’s different. You were different. What had happened hit differently. Your silence was more hurtful than a straightforward rejection. I find myself doubting my worth. If being me wasn’t really good enough. Countless insecurities, toxic traits I find myself drawn into just escape from the hurt you’ve caused.
Till now, it’s still the same question. Why?
We were never really ready aren’t we? Can I just settle for this conclusion? With all the hurt and uncertainties, I kinda want to end it here. Maybe we we’re never really meant to dance to ever after.
Maybe for now I’ll just buy my own boquet for me. Plant it and let it bloom with my own efforts if I can. And maybe if ever time comes, I could give it to someone who’s straightforwardly ready.