happy birthday to you..

her: was last night really that horrendous for you?
me: ...?
her: when i called. talking to me
me: did it seem horrendous to you?
her: you did feel like screaming. and i know it was more than once
me: i still feel like screaming
her: what are you trying to imply?
me: that me wanting to scream is because im frustrated, bitter, miserable inside. broken, hurt, suffering. not because youre calling or talking or w/e
her: okay. may i ask why you ignored my call today?
me: i was at the museum for broken hearts. the phone rang and the art students looked at me and told me to silence my phone
her: oh, okay i'm sorry.
me: if youre wondering why i didnt call back, i was with my mom
her: does she hate me now?
me: my mom loved you she really did
her: loved.
me: she still does. she just doesnt understand why youre doing this to me. she hates seeing me like this and i dont blame her
her: i don't blame her either. wait, what don't you blame her for?
me: if you had a kid and your kid just cries and screams in the middle of the night, just drinks, is so miserable to the point where youre living with a living corpse, youd be miserable too as a parent
her: yes. live a little. for her. be happier, for her. be strong for her.
me: please dont say anymore?
her: very well. i'm sorry i brought it up in the first place. for what it's worth though, my word stands, i don't blame her either.
me: dont blame her for what?
her: feeling miserable. being angry at me, for what i did. this was all my fault from the beginning, and even though all has been said and done, i am indeed, truly very sorry. it's something i've got to live with now. if i live at all.
me: you know what frustrates everyone? even me?
her: what?
me: when you break up with someone you dont go telling them you still think about them, you still love them, you still want them. If those feelings still exist at all, then BE with them. everyone around me understands that. if you need a break, space, fine, you can have that, but you dont need to break up with someone to get all that. people separate, they go figure their lives out, and if they still love each other, they get back together. thats what i meant by the cruelty you put me through. i still wanted to be with you, i still loved you, i still do. and its not like you didnt know, you knew. but one second you push me away, the next you say you still think of me, you love me and want me
her: i shall make this very much easier for you right now then.

i don't love you anymore.

i don't feel the same way, about you as i did. therefore, move on without me. however, i would like very much if we could still be friends, if that's okay with you, that is. forgive me for all the cruelty i put you through. it was never intended. you there? i do not speak these words to make a joke of you. because you are not a joke. i take you very seriously. and i am very serious about this.

i hope this eases your frustrations. and of the people you love. what are you thinking?

me: pick your words wisely. you dont love me anymore? be honest. like i said on the phone last night, dont think about me for a second. or your friends. or family. dont think about them. just yourself. you dont love me anymore and you dont want me anymore?

her: i don't matter. i'm already dead. i'm not in love with you anymore. i don't want you the same way i did. but i would love to stay friends.

me: youre still alive, with a life. you have a long road ahead of you, and you have a choice to make.

her: and what choice would that be?

me: to live with the truth, or to live a lie.

her: this life is already a lie. you're the one with the long road. you've got so many good things ahead of you hold onto them.

me: why is your life already a lie?

her: it doesn't really matter.

me: it does. why is your life already a lie?

her: because i'm already dead.

me: is your life a lie because you still love me and you want to be with me but you cant?

her: it doesn't matter Jess. don't be difficult. I'm trying to make this as easy for you as i can.

me: when will you understand there is no easy way?

her: indeed, there is no easy way. but there's always an easier way. this is the easier way.

me: lies? thats the easy way?

her: what makes you think they're lies?

me: BECAUSE I LOVE YOU GODDAMMIT! AND YOU DO TOO. YOU KNOW IT. i feel it inside, the moment i read that fucking line i said that's a fucking lie right there.

her: i don't love you.

me: she told me.

her: told you what?

me: your mom found out, it didnt go well. that's why you had to end it.

her: okay. what else did she say? when was this?

me: she cares about you and she really loves you it hurts her to see you like this just like it hurts sherlyn to see me like this

her: you havent even seen how i am.

me: you havent seen me either.

her: what makes you so sure?

me: if i havent seen you, how could you have seen me?

her: because.

me: your mom didnt like me and i knew it. my only question to you is if that was the case then why didnt you tell me anything at all? its not like it was a war of us against the whole world. my mom loved you being around. sherlyn and joce loved hanging out with us. so why did you just throw our love in the dirt?

her: it's complicated Jess.

...

me: i need answers. don't leave this open ended.

her: okay. i dont love you. done? doesnt it make it easier? for you...?

me: you think all it takes is just a i dont love you and thats it?

her: thats a start.

...

me: i'll be honest with you. i havent let go of us yet, i dont think i will, because i dont know about you, but i cherish everything we had. i miss it dearly, so much it makes me cry sometimes. i am trying to move on, and i will, in time. it doesnt mean i dont love you anymore, or that i dont want you anymore. i still do. and i think even you know that

her: see, i do. too well. that was why i was trying to get you to hate me.

me: and i already asked you last night if you really want me to hate you, and your answer is no. has the answer changed?

her: if it makes it easier, hate me. i dont love you.

me: darling, darling, darling. please don't say the words that will make this harder for me.

her: i don't understand. it's supposed to make it easier. what would make this easier for you to let go of this?

me: truth, for one.

...

her: what are you thinking?

me: promise you won't lie to me?

her: sigh. yes. what is it?

me: do you or do you not love me?

her: would you hate me if i broke your promise?

me: its a simple question.

her: no its not. nevermind.

me: why isn't it? tell me.

her: i dont love you.

me: you don't love me?

her: no. i dont.

me: so you just woke up today and you decided i dont love jess anymore?

her: yes

me: i plead with you to be honest.

her: i am being honest.

me: what happened to "i will love you, always" ?

her: i'm dead remember? i don't feel.

me: so you don't love your friends anymore, too?

her: sigh. what do you want jess?

me: what i want, i know i cant have. i want you back, i want that feeling again; to have you in my arms as you slept, with the light and fan running, no bustle, just peace, quiet and love. with my fingers in your hair and knowing you loved it, and singing you to sleep. i know i cant have you anymore, so i'll deal with that. and as for the memory, as much as i want it again, i guess that will just be a perfect moment to be etched into memory. if ever you wake up and you miss me and want me again, my door is open to you. i will not shut you out. other than that, i want honesty. i dont want you to tell me a lie so i can move on since it'll be easier for me. frankly after you told me about you and your mom fighting about me, it made sense to why youre letting me go. its making my closure easier.

her: okay.

.....

me: im not gonna pressure you anymore, or get on your back. if you love me, fine, if you don't.. then it's sad, but i can't do anything about it and i can't make you love me.

i love you, though. for the record.

her: i know.

me: im guessing we cant really have a friendship either, seeing how your mom hates my guts. but it doesnt mean im going anywhere. i'll still be here, and my door's open.

----------


You called and we talked and argued till 11am. 2am-11am.

You said you were tired of every fucking thing in this world. I heard your side of misery for once. You said at least I have friends that care, they're better than the friends you have.

I said at least you have a friend like her.

You go, yeah, that's why they never call you. You're always the one to go the distance, the one to call, make plans, go out.

I said she might not call you, but it doesn't mean she doesn't care. If she didn't she wouldn't say the things she did.

And you said you're the one who told her to tell me the truth.

We talked more.

And you were crying? Did you cry? I don't know. You were never the sort to cry. But it felt like it. That's what it sounded like.

And I felt sad for you. Just like all those nights ago, when you were angry and you kept hitting the walls. I felt sad. You needed a friend, they weren't there. And it was gonna be your birthday. You would do so much for them, I know you wish so hard someone would do something for you.

I had so much to fight inside. Inside my heart, inside my head, down to whatever that was left of my soul. Fight feelings, thoughts, opinions, fears, dreams and hopes. Fight, fight, fight.

And I was so tired, I swear to you. Yet I decided to do the right thing.

Spend the eve of your birthday with you.

I was sleepless, I had no food, I needed a drink.

I would say I've become an alcoholic, but I don't drink every hour of the day. I just drink when it gets too much, when it hurts so much, when the fights are extremely tiring.

We hung up, you needed to get ready. So did I.

A lot of hurtful things happened at home, but I just take that burden and fight it. Cut my arms again to focus on the physical pain rather than drown in the emotional one. Took my mini bottle of vodka and stuffed it in my pocket incase if I needed it. Took a swig of it after I left the house.

It hurts when you tell your mom you love her and when she ignores you anyway.

Reached, got the tickets, and for the life of me, I don't know why, but when people looked at me and my new hairdo, I just hated the looks I got from them. So I tried to look normal instead of looking like a rockstar. Went to the toilet countless times to do my hair.

My head was like "its just you.. why am I even trying to impress?" I didn't know why.

You came, I ran back to Billy's. You looked different. You reacted different, as well. I thought you hated me at first, I started wondering if this was a good idea at all.

I was doing this for you mainly. Your birthday, I didn't want you to be alone. If you had your friends not spend it with you, I wanted to spend it with you. Despite the history.

I might have been using you for company, as you might be using me. But people use each other. It's a sick way of how people work.

We watched the movie. Throughout the entire thing, I wasn't concentrating on the movie. Parts of it whenever she was on screen, sure. But mostly it was just you. You were recoiling to my touch. Your arm would be on the armrest, as would mine; but the moment our arms touched each other you'd just recoil. And I didn't know why, but I hurt so much inside.

I know I wanted to touch your hand, graze it even, sick as it sounds. But I didn't. I had a hunch maybe you wanted to do the same too, but you didn't want to make things harder, you didn't want to make things awkward, so you didn't. You didn't do it because you didn't want to screw up the day we had.

And yet there was a tiny voice in my heart that was screaming so loudly, "DO IT!" The voice inside that felt like it was chained in shackles. Screaming.

Didn't, though. And God, the urge to drink during the show. But I didn't want you to know. I couldn't let you know. But if I did drink then, you would really know.

So I waited till after the show.

Got into a cubicle and called Jaws. And I punched the walls. The rage inside, the anger, the pain. I felt sick. I wanted to vomit and cry at the same time. I drank half the bottle of the vodka at one go. The tear fell. I had to control. I couldn't scream. I couldn't cry. I had to be strong. The show needed to go on.

Wiped my eyes dry, and I knew you'd be waiting outside. Turned quickly to the sinks and washed my face, took some water to kill the alcohol breath. Did my hair. You looked at me in silence as I did it all.

We walked around town, you kept saying you're preparing for the worst case scenario in the event if my friends bumped into us in town. Preparing for a showdown against Sherlyn and whoever else that hates your guts for putting me through hell.

I said it won't happen.

You wanted to know what my mom said, what I said to her.. the memory of it all was very painful.

She said really hurtful things. I'll just leave it at that.

Tried to change the mood, uplift it a little, joke around, make fun of you, do the things I would do to a friend. Say the things I would to a friend.

Went for mass. And you, you did the sweetest thing for me. We could have gone to that church, gone to that mass, I may have seen him celebrate the Eucharist. And I would have hated it so much, recoil far worse emotionally, spiritually, physically and mentally. And you knew. And decided to go out of the way, go to the other church where he wasn't there.

How can I not love you still? It's for things like this that made me love you. It's things like this that let me know you still love me, you still care. And your bullshit "i dont love you anymore" is just something I won't buy. Because I know. Because I feel.

So mass.

I nearly broke down crying. Homily was about ..

"sometimes you must know when to speak, and when to listen. you speak too much, it becomes talk. you don't speak at all, you live in silence which is wrong. you speak little, speak at the right time, speak up, and that's when you know you must speak. otherwise all you must do is just listen."

And I asked God, what did I do to deserve such misery? To have people frown upon on love, despite it being between two people of the same gender? To have my mother suddenly change and question my compassion, instead of me turning bitter and hateful. To have my mother want me to turn heartless, cold and cruel, when she was the one who raised me up to love everyone and to forgive others for God says, "what you forgive on Earth, you are forgiven for in heaven."

Maybe I wasn't listening. But my head was too noisy. My heart was in so much pain. I was very tired. God didn't really answer though, no.

Mass ended, you asked if I'd like to go jamming with you and the band. And I decided to follow anyway. Hear what you guys were like. Been a while. Last I jammed was with Clifford and Aloy. Penny and Me. Complicated. This love. She will be loved.

So long ago.

Followed, fooled in the cab. So much for "I can talk with my mouth full." Haha. I mimicked that and you were all "don't make me spit this in your mouth."

I would've said something, but no. I just smiled it away and made the next joke of whatever said.

Jamming was fun. No doubt hearing more than I was singing, since I didn't know most of the lyrics and my head was just empty and dry..

It was fun.

Almost felt like how it was back then with the guys.

And you kept pushing me to sing.

Stand by me, which was totally offkey. Zombie, which I forgot the lyrics to. I will survive, which I kept screaming in my head "gloria gaynor or cake?" and wondering what were the lyrics next. Play that funky music, which was really old.. but I remembered how to sing it roughly.

It was awesome to sing. Felt good to hold the mic again, not really. But it was alright.

Throughout the entire day I was with you I kept asking you what did you want for your birthday, you either said nothing, not a thing, something. Then you changed it to "i want something, but I can't have it and won't have it. So it doesn't matter."

I knew what it was. It was either to be with me again, or to have me walk away from you in your life to make everything easier for you. But I would've placed my bets on being with me again. I knew it. I felt it. You admitted it later on the phone. And I know. Knew. I'm sorry.

Your friend drove us all home. And in the car I looked at you and ruffled your hair. You looked like to wanted to lean on me but you weren't sure.

You rested your head on my lap anyway.

And I ran my fingers through your hair again just like the other nights.
And the memories came again to my head. It rushed in, like a crazy wave just waiting to hit dry ground.

But at the time in the car it wasn't painful. It wasn't a painful memory.

It is now, as I type this, though.

But at the time it wasn't.

I loved it. I love it. Selfish of me, it might've been. But I love it. You laying there and my fingers running in your hair, my fingertips massaging your head, your scalp.

I saw you close your eyes and open them and you'd look at me.

Mask I had on, I made faces to make you laugh. Sang with silly songs playing on the radio.

But the moment. That ride home.

Only one thing mattered to me:

You.

Happy birthday.