Lately, I’ve been thinking how I’ve never fallen in love.
Until you came.
I’ve realized this much when I received a phone call saying my mother has died. Everything lost its color that day – that everywhere I looked I saw all the paint retreating, vanishing like how waves back away but never to kiss the shores again nor to crash its being into the boulders of what feels like home. My heart fattened with sorrow that I feel I could burst like thrown paint balls on the walls. My veins clogged with the heaviness with this sudden news yet thoughts of you lingered like oxygen in my blood. I am being reminded that you exist among these hundreds of insignificant people. How each breathing cycle, reminded me of beauty and of disappointment of having to watch you go.
I felt that there’s a stain on my Sunday dress that no amount of detergent, salt or rubbing can erase. That even if my hands’ skin scrapes, its existence never ceases.
I wanted to curl in sadness by your side and let your silence still my shaking shoulders into comfort. But a year ago, I let your warmth go.
In this cloudless afternoon, I thought of how I never have felt love before you and how helpless I feel. Like my own body betrayed me for letting your presence linger on the lines of my palms, your heat in every curve and every uttered word echoes in my eardrums and how I remember the little things. Little things like how your mouth curves downward when i make you wait and those apologetic eyes when you realize you were being insensitive for a moment there.
I miss you.
It’s been a year and more yet I still feel the hollowness of the space you once occupied. I thought time can close all kinds of wounds. But I guess, there’s no kind of stitch that could stop a heart from bleeding nostalgia.
So I let myself embrace the realization that I lost the only man I have fallen deeply in love with and it doesn’t hurt that much anymore. Only sometimes, when the town sleeps – it gnaws and begs to be noticed.