Then, I was out with Anna and Clare, as much as I didn't want to go out. I know I'm the kinda person that when I'm miserable as shit, I just don't wanna be around happy people. I get tired of putting on a mask too, you know. And if its because of you, all the more, because I wouldn't want to be around couples too.
Feel like fucking throwing glass bottles at all of them.
But Anna kept pushing me to go, so I did. Tried to hold back, tried to poker face up as much as I could, even though inside I just felt rotten. I felt broken. I felt like I needed a fix, but I didn't know who, how, or where. I just needed to be fixed then. ASAP.
Distracted myself most of the time, focused on other things other than you on my mind. Other than the hurt I felt, other than looking for the fix I needed.
We were at the movie memorabilia shop and Anna showed me a poster of Twilight.
Edward.
Bella.
You.
Me.
I could just look for a split second, fake a smile and just go into another row of stuff and pray for the tears to go away.
I felt so hurt inside, I couldn't even point the finger at why.
We watched Up! in 3-d. It's supposed to be a funny movie, and it had it's moments. I loved it, I really did. But halfway through the movie, you just HAD to send that text.
I know that it won't matter how many times i apologize. I know the damage is done. I know that i keep fucking things up the same way again and again because i am just that stupid. For what it's worth, i am sorry. You may want nothing to do with me ever again. You may never want to speak to me again. And i respect that. Take care of yourself, Jess, please. Tonight, I will lose it and i won't be me again. I may not survive this. I have lost all purpose now. Take care. Perhaps finally, through this, i at least know that i will never hurt you again. And through this, i will leave this place. Don't stop me this time. It was right, I'm not worth it.
And I cried.
Up was showing parts of the movie where the husband missed his wife when she died.
They were so loving, from the start of their friendship, to their relationship, the marriage... even when she died. And after she did, he wanted to continue her dream for her on her behalf.
But you? This? Just hurt me more... We had the same dreams, wanted the same future.. what happened? Why did it all have to go away?
I was depressed after that. And maybe it showed. Maybe it didn't.
Anna lent me some to go home.
I hugged her and Clare adios, and took a cab back. Called you and demanded an explanation for the text. The fuck it was all about. And you could laugh?
Argued again, and the words were so familiar. December much?
The vulgarities you used on me..
You had to choose between me and your mom. If you picked me, great, we'd be together what? 1 year?
Wow, you made it sound so.. little. Like I meant that much to you.
..And if you picked me, you'd lose your mom forever.
When I said how you loved to fight, you wouldn't fight for this, fight for me.
You shot back, you fought to be with me for 6 months. Otherwise we'd have lasted what? 3 months?
Fair enough.
I was tired of hearing you out.
I thought the more you had to say, the more hurt I would be. And there you were, saying you wanted to KILL yourself so it would make the world a better place.
When I said you killing yourself would upset the people around you, upset your mom, upset me..
You said it wasn't fair to you, you wanted me, you want your mom too.. by you killing yourself, you get to have both in spirit.
And I just hurt the most after hearing you say all that. Hearing how selfish you've become.
I said stay and fix things, instead of killing yourself, running away and seeing if you can fix it in another life. You refused. You still saw the answer as leaving, as killing yourself, giving your soul up.
So I asked you what if I gave you one last time to kiss me. I "needed to clear some doubts" and wanted that. What if I met you the next morning and did that.
Story cut short, I did that.
I went over and I cleared the dead cockroach you were screaming about over the phone. I gave you back the parcel you left at my house a long time ago. And I leaned my face on your head and held your face in my hands.
You were clenching your jaw, your heartbeat was racing - so was mine - but you didn't even want to look at me. You didn't even want to hold me close to you and tell me "stay" ..
I asked if you're scared, you're all cocky going "...of what?"
Okay.
I kissed you.
You kissed back.
But the kiss didn't feel like how it used to be before.
The passion, the joy I felt inside me, the love I felt inside me.. it wasn't there anymore.
Kissing you was just like.. a chore. A job.
And I hated that feeling initially.
I doubted the doubt. I tried again.
And I realized I was the one making all the moves.. you just stood still and kissed back.
That's when I just knew..
I didn't love you anymore.
You hurt me that much that I just didn't love you anymore. That's just how much damage you caused me.
You can't play on broken strings, you can't feel anything that your heart don't want to feel..
Hah.
And towards my leave I kept pushing you.
It may be the last time you're ever gonna see me again. Is that all? It wasn't over the phone anymore, no need for the "i wish i could see you, i wish i could touch you, i wish i could kiss you"
I was right there before you and I asked you to make your move.
You didn't.
You refused to budge.
Sure, we may bump into each other sometime. But I'm never going to give in to you again. I'm never going to kiss you again or get intimate with you ever again.
You didn't seem to get that... thought I was playing.
"This is not it," you could say.
I told you I would give you 5 seconds to make a move, otherwise I would walk.. and you may not ever see me again.
And 5 I counted, you made a move once, but you didn't the second time around.
And you said it wasn't it.
I looked at you in the eye and said "this is the last time."
And I wore my shoes and got my bag.
You barged back into your bedroom, slammed the doors, punched the doors, started breathing heavily...
Previously I would just throw my bag aside and run back to you, run my fingers through your hair and ask what was wrong, how could I make it better...
But when you did that, I asked myself, "how can i fix myself better?"
And I opened your front door. I saw you try and get up to get to the door.. but I shut it before you could show.
I walked, hoping you wouldn't do something dramatic or stupid.
Came home, and read your blog. This is what you have to say:
When you're gonna walk away, what could I really do or say. Would it matter anyway?
It wouldn't change how you feel.
You wanna come by, kiss me for one last time to clear your doubts.
I'm like, fine. Whatever you need.
You come by.
We kissed.
Then you go like, "This is the last time you're gonna see me and that's it?"
Why do you keep testing me?
Why do you keep pushing my limits.
You know what?
Yeah, that would be it.
Because I could have you in my arms all over again.
We could fuck one last time.
And then what?
I'd never see you again?
Fuck it, I don't want that.
I don't want to not see you again.
So yeah, in your way, you'd put it as, "So you're never gonna see me again and that's it."
You know what, that would be it.
Because if I did sleep with you one last time, this wouldn't make it any easier.
Fuck it, it'd be so much harder.
And I don't wanna be having you in my arms and have my head ringing, "This is it. This is it."
You don't wanna see me anymore.
You said I wouldn't see you anymore.
We'd see each other.
Because this world is that fucking small.
On another note, Happy Birthday Singapore.
Something always fucks up on national day for me.
Four years ago, I lost my dad this very same day. Didn't see him again for a really, really long time.
And today, it's you.
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