I’ve been asleep all day like a vampire who slumbers and wakes at midnight. I just felt like sleeping; enveloped in a sweeping wave of lethargy. Once in a while I would be roused from sleep and feel my heart pounding in my chest…as if I’d been from a really bad dream and I’m suddenly back in reality.
I just feel so bad. There is a gnawing emptiness inside me and even if I try to forget about this pain, it just hurts all the more. They say that crying helps ease the pain. Perhaps. I’m crying now and the tears taste good—the only consolation I get from this mess.
I can’t think of anything else. I’ve lost a great deal and I’ve been left with nothing. Not even myself. I’ve somehow lost myself somewhere along the way. How is that possible? Je ne sais pas, it just happened. So much for getting more than I bargained for. So much for gambling; it could have been worse. What was I gambling with anyway? My heart? My soul? In exchange for what? Experience? Lust? Some skewed notion that love exists? I don’t know or I don’t want to know or I’d rather not delve into the details for I might find something sinister underneath or nothing at all. Too chicken to look for the truth amidst the lies. Quite disappointing, nicht wahr?
* * *
You asked me why I chose you. I gave you some flimsy excuses that left you unsatisfied. I know. It was really my intention to make you feel that way out of my own wicked amusement. How mean of me! Honestly, if I would find it in my heart to tell you why, it’s this: “One is loved simply because one is loved. There is no reason needed for loving.” No reason—not even color, race, gender, age, past or whatever; you just feel.
Tragique, n’est-ce pas? It was just poignant due to the wrong circumstances. Is there such a thing? That love is wrong just because it is the wrong time, wrong place, wrong everything? Das ist jetzt unfair.
Wait…it still doesn’t answer the questions: “Why me? When it could be somebody else?” or “What do I have that nobody else could give you?” I’m smiling now as I remember your face, how it was like when the afternoon sunlight touched it and how the leaves cast their shadows on your cheek while you uttered those words. I couldn’t tell you then, I don’t know why. Not that I don’t have the guts to tell you; it’s just that I couldn’t find it inside me that day. All that I felt was the bitter coldness that’s filling me up. I couldn’t give you that.
It’s not what you could give me; it’s what I could give you (if given the chance again). There was a part of you that I had once reached before. A part that was so vulnerable; like a lost child that I want to embrace and say that everything’s going to be alright. I don’t know if I’d be allowed to find that hidden side of you again. The self that was buried under years of pain and disappointment. I just wanted to help you heal; to give a part of me so you could be whole again, but, it was I who got hurt just because it was the wrong time… It’s okay. I could still handle the pain; somehow.
It’s already past 1am. My tears are still with me, but, I feel better now. Is there still hope? Peut-être.
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