I like you, because for once after a real while, you make me feel like I can wholeheartedly be myself, that my personality wins and my appearance is just a little icing to the cake. I like you, because you make my stand matters, that keeping myself until marriage is not a silly thing to do, it's remarkable even, and that me communicating with my God in times I don't feel like I could juggle the prayer in between my schedule, is beautiful. I like you, because you make it feels like talking to you is not a waste of time, that I get to do my things first before your night time comes, so I have a bunch to tell you while sending you to sleep. I like you calling my name, I like you calling me with names you made yourself, I like you calling me with names I proclaim myself as, and I like remembering them like they never go away.
I should have stopped, when you said none of those things are real, that it's just another play-pretend and make-belief episode, similar to the poisonous one I had years ago. I should have stopped, when our talk becomes a routine I can't get myself out from, like the sick gravity I once got myself into, knowing well once it's ended, I'd stumble miserably, again. I should have stopped, when you told me you have your own issues, and that somehow, somewhere, they involve us in it. I should have stopped when you told me you like me, when it slipped out of your mouth way too easily, when later on you said you were sorry on how much you have mislead me, when you said we should not go further because you don't want me hurt.
But I didn't. You are too good to be true and I just don't want to let go, at least until I get to experience the most with you, however it would end, and that's selfish of me, to stay when you obviously has shown how not interested you are in our conversation anymore, how, maybe, I got you so wild that your flame has actually went off that none of the sparkle is left to dance the night away anymore. I cling too hard onto my thoughts, onto my idea of you. Maybe I'm the one who mislead myself all these times. Maybe it's not you who I like, maybe it's your company, our conversation, my time spent with someone real, about something that is not. Maybe what I fall for is the way you make me feel, the confidence boost, the excitement, and the crazy rush in my chest.
But anything too much isn't good, and I think I got too much of you already. I think you, or should I put it, the idea of you, took so much space that when you are finally gone for good, it leaves me this huge hole in my chest, full of nothingness. Something is gone, and it feels fucking heavy. It's so unfair, how short the fireworks last, yet how much it affect my night, making it lonely. It's so unfair to know that I'm the only one among us who ends up with the feeling, that you are doing fine, probably reading one of those articles with your glasses slipping down your nose until you fall asleep. It's so unfair that I'm not okay and you are, and how easy it is for you to disappear, and for me to be erased, when disappearing for me is hard as I kept on coming back, wishing you would say "don't go," when erasing you ended up in a session of rewriting.
I guess it's just the tendency that I have, putting too much trust into something that has such small percentage to work. What can I say? I grew up believing in miracle, in fairy dusts and Neverland, in hope that someday I'd have my own definition of them. But funnily, I have no regret for the falling this time. The short stay in your field of gravity has been the most pleasing ride in awhile, even. I'm glad we met, I'm glad you stayed, and I'm glad you're gone. You're a lesson learned hard, slapped right onto my face, yet a lovely short story I'd like to keep in my shelf forever. Instead of remembering your last painful goodbye of how we went overboard with each other, I'd rather remember you as a friend I found mid-galaxy, a friend who has the remarkable ability to help me grow into a better person each day the past three months, a person who leaves me with a self-love as his legacy, and as he once told me, "You are kind, you are strong, you are beautiful."
So thank you, Z. I might have missed my chance to say it to you directly but, good luck taking the baby steps out of your comfort zone. You deserve all the good things in the world.
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