Eight Years

I was looking for you all over the place.
Until I remembered the obvious.
Eight years, sweetheart.
Eight sweet years.

And it ends there.

You have found it.
You have found it.
And I, I …after several years is typing all over again…
With the same cold fingers when I learned the news back then.

I am getting the old familiar chills.
Probably the same drop of temperature you’re currently experiencing.
It is past midnight over there, sweetheart.
Just another day to end, right?
While the evening is fast approaching in this side of the world, I am finally closing eight years of my life.

True, those eight years weren’t wasted but they never really got occupied.



And I guess that’s the most courageous thing a person can ever do, dare to love.
To bring yourself to the possibilities of pain and discomfort.
For showing your most vulnerable version.
For allowing them to make or break you beyond your control.

And whenever I hear or learn someone’s heartbreak, I cannot help but be part of his/her pain.
I will always be that wolf who’ll always be an outsider of this arena.
An observer.
The coward one.

The person who cannot be any of the above.
And I’m probably am the worst kind of coward.
It doesn’t mean I cannot love.
I just can’t put myself in such great ordeal.
At least not yet.

So to all those who are hurting.
For those who are still mending, I do wish I can offer you a cheer.
In the absence of that, I pray you peace.
You are an awesome being. I wish you’ll find recovery in such great ease.


Trial & Horror

At this point I am ready to ask,
no worrying about the answer.
The torture of rejection certainly feels like the pain of not knowing.

And the only thing I know is this is my final straw.
The last moment to hear a yes or a no.
To start or stop.
To go or to let go.