The Ripped Soul

So this is Christmas, what have you done..

Merry Christmas, one and all.

Just got home from church. Choir sang beautifully, as they always do for their High Masses. Felt odd though, sitting there in the pews by myself. Alone, no family, no friends. Just me.

Didn't stay for long because I wanted to avoid questions of the year. What are you doing now, how are you, how is mum, where is mum, why didn't she come, why didn't you come for so long, why are you dressed so casually...

But I went. Did what I came to do. Gave a hug. Made up? I don't know.

Earlier in the day, Sherlyn forced me out. I just wanted to spend Christmas by myself, miserable as I was. I can't bear to go out and spread misery around instead of cheer on such a festive holiday. But she insisted. Had to go anyway since she got me movie tickets even without my consent. Watched Yes Man! Pretty good movie, pretty sad, too.

Cinema had memories. Shopping centres. Places we used to walk. Things people did, things people said. Everything rang a painful clang of the bell.

In the streets after the movie, the air was chilly, the mood.. heh. Everyone around me was so happy, so cheerful. I seemed to be the only miserable idiot. So we walked in the rain, moved in the crowd, and seeing everyone so happy, I cried while the raindrops fell.

I cried because I wanted to be happy again, I wanted to feel the Christmas swing again like I used to, but I couldn't, and everyone else around me felt it. I cried because I saw couples together, people kissing, friends and lovers hand in hand.. I cried because I saw the love everyone had. And I asked myself, where's mine? Where did my love go?

Even as I type this, I cry. Hah, silly of me, yes? This Christmas, you people out there are probably getting drunk, unwrapping presents, presenting toasts after toasts.. getting high on music, laughter, jokes, friends, company.. Or some of you might even be asleep.

I can't even sleep. All I do now is just crawl up like a prawn under the covers, sing a song or two over and over till I knock myself out.

And just because network coverage in Singapore is SO poor during festive seasons like this, you think I minded your calls which was why I didn't answer, ignored your texts, and then you apologize for calling in the first place.. and then call during mass when I can't answer. I call back, you were asleep.

Why do you even call?

To say hi? Really? You call someone to say hi and hang up? I don't mind, I don't. But I know what you're going to ask. You're going to ask me how am I, what have I been up to, how's my mom, how's everything going on.

Picture this, okay?

It's days before your 6th month to spend with your loved one. You haven't exactly been on best terms, every other conversation, every other outing leads to an argument, to a fight. Because of disagreements, because of misunderstandings. It doesn't help when you KNOW you were the cause of the last fight you had. And you would do anything to undo the mistake. You promise to change, you try, hard as it may be. But how do you try and keep to a promise when the other party doesn't even give you a chance? You don't like pretending and masking feelings, problems and thoughts all away, but you don't want to hurt and affect the other person as well. What do you do? Bottle them, right?

Days later, you go out to watch the movie you guys have been dreaming to see. You are psyched to see it, not because of the book you read, not because of the actors or actresses. You are psyched, because of your loved one. Because of memories. Because once, they made that analogy of how they were like the hero in the story, and you were the damsel in distress. They describe how it fits so perfectly, both of you in the same story as the characters in them. But in the cinema, it's an entire different story. You sit right next to them, but the coldness between the both of you.. you feel it. And you don't even know how to mend it. How to fix it. And you try to make it as normal as possible, and you fail miserably. You wonder. Wonder. Wonder. Wonder. How. Why. Who. What. When.

And then you spend the night over. The coldness is there. It feels so incredibly awkward, but what do you say? How do you react? What are you supposed to do to fix it? You text friends, hoping for answers, they have none except to call it quits. But you don't want to call it quits. You don't want to because you believe it will all work out like how it always used to do, as bad as fights got. You don't want to because you still love. You still love.

And you find out the harsh way when your playlist is gone, when your name doesn't exist as the lover anymore.

Your heart screams no, your head cries yes.
Your spirit fights so hard in denial, your flesh weakens, crumbles.

Then conversations asking what if you two stayed friends, what if you two broke up, would you be alright, would you still talk, would you treat them cold.. you wonder. You lie in bed, and you wonder. Every other moment, you think, and you wonder. What does it all mean?

The day comes. They said they would try to spend it with you. They don't. But you understand, because they might have been busy. It hurts you, but you brush it off. Shake it off. Finish up on the present you hope will save the relationship.

The next day, your phone rings. A text message telling you its best if you two just broke up. Your world crumbles in a second. In a fucking second. A million things race through your head, why, where, what, how.. but no one can answer. You cry. You cry, and you cry, and you cry with no answers, with no one there to support you. You cry.

You meet up to pass the parcel, your head is so noisy, you cry in the streets, in broad daylight, hiding your eyes behind your aviators. People that hear about your story shake their head and go, it's all your fault. You blame yourself. You beat yourself up over and over again. It's all your fault. They said it. It was the one thing that blew them away. Your fault. You meet, you want to ask a million things, you don't know what to say. Then you stay for a drink. A meal. You don't feel like eating, all appetite's been lost. You try. You hear them talk, you see couples around you, and you wonder why is the world unfair and ironic in that sense. They talk. They give their reasons. But it's like static to your ears. You hear the sounds, the message across, but the rest of it is just noise. Your head is just noise.

You ask back for them, say it's not too late, they say no. They blame pressure. You beat yourself up and ask how the fuck pressure comes along when you haven't asked for much. How are you pressure when you don't even ask or do anything? When you don't pester for anything?

A few days later, you call. You call, because every damn day is a struggle to even go anywhere, to even do anything. You call, because you need to know where you lie, you need to know what they really want. You call, because you need answers, and while the whole world can tell them the answer is, it's really over and that you should fucking get a move on, you just won't till you hear them say it. You call, because you hope with all you got that they will take you back, that they will say it was a mistake to even let you go. And take you back.

You call. You hope. You talk.
You hear the same things.
You fail.

Can't do it.
Can't do this right now.
Break, yes.
Break up, I don't know.
Do they love you? They always will.
Do they want you? Yeah they do.
They left. No, they haven't.

You understand where they come from. They haven't left. They're still there. They haven't disappeared. But they don't understand they're not there. That what you want is for them to come back, to be in your arms again, to be happy in your arms again, like how it always was. Like how it used to be. Not in that possessive sense, but in the sense where you fall in love with someone and you're there. You want them to be there, but they're not. And it's confusing when they say they haven't left.

They haven't left, they're still there? But they broke up with you?

Everyone around you says accept it, move on. If you love something, let it go. Give space. Give them space. Give them room, give them a break, cut some slack. So you stop. Stop calling, stop the messages. It hurts. You think of them EVERY SINGLE TIME. Your memories don't help either. Everywhere you go, you see something that will remind you of yourselves. Everything you do. Things that are said. Done. It hurts. It rips your heart apart. You try to let it go, but you're too much in love to let anything fall apart. You keep thinking maybe when they find themselves again, maybe when they realise that afterall, at the end, it doesn't really matter. Fights will always be fights, and fights can be disregarded because of love. Because at the end, love conquers all.

You still believe. Hope. Hold on. While everyone tells you to let the fuck go. Accept it. Move on. Feel the pain they used to feel. Leave it. Let go. Because they don't want you anymore, they don't love you anymore, and they just haven't the balls to say it.

You're lost. Confused. Heartbroken. In denial. Dying. Lifeless.

It's the holiday of the year, it's Christmas.

You see everyone bustling with cheer, you see everyone happy with their lives, happy with their loved ones. Even for those who are miserable, you see that they can try to be happy, and they are.

You try to be happy.
You fail.

You're miserable.

You go to sleep remembering that all you want for Christmas is them. And they said that all they want for Christmas is you.

The irony, don't you think? Since you're here without them, and they don't even want you.

People say at least you have a mother, you have friends. Your mother tries to be there, but not in the sense that you need her for. She doesn't provide the comfort your heart yearns for. She doesn't have the remedy to your broken heart, just lessons from her experiences to give to you. You don't need that. Friends. What friends? Friends that just up and left you alone? That treat you like a stranger? That don't even call anymore? That have that awkward silence with you? That is busy with their own friends? And for the one friend that tries so much, tries so hard, you see it and appreciate it. But do they know how much they hurt you with all the things they try to do?

Let's go to town. Let's watch a movie there. Let's have coffee there. Let's walk there. Let's chill there. Let's do something there.

And when they know the memory of it hurts you, they go, "stop thinking about it."

Don't you think if you could, you would? Why would anyone love being melancholy? On a holiday? Why would you love to feel blue?

You want to be strong again, you want to fix yourself. You don't know how, but you're trying. Failing, but still trying.

So you wanna know how I feel? How am I? Picture that. And that's just the least of it. But more or less, most of it.

That person is me.