Checked out an old lover’s profile for no apparent reason.
Or some reason I couldn’t pin or admit.
How are you to know?
He’s cradling this beautiful tiny creature along a sandy shore.
He seems happy. He looks happy.
Far from the distant, constantly pensive face of the beanie/hemp-necklace wearing dude I used to spend late conversations with.
I am glad he is happy.
I have for the life of me always wished him happiness.
A thing that for years evaded me.
Oh please, he’s not the one to blame.
Vancouver ended up warm and sunny, Manila remained bleak and rainy.
For years, seeing image of him brings shivers to my spine.
Makes my fingers cold and my mouth dry.
It has been a long while and I know I have moved on already.
What was then overflowing has become so empty.
Not sad empty,just nothing-left-anymore empty.
This isn’t a story of victory. My chapters remain crazy.
This is an actual stage of flipping pages. Oh well, pages I should have flipped long, long time ago but couldn’t. Until one day I realized I could.
And I did.
All those movies telling us of that grand gesture of closure could be true but sometimes it can happen this way.
Ever so slowly.
But it does end.
At one point it will end.
The cycle may return.
Perhaps for another person?
And if you’re thinking the pain will never end, well here’s your message of hope. Honey, at one point it will end.
It may take a long while or a short bend, who am I to tell?
But I tell you, that pain will find its way to the very end.
And if you’re lucky, you’ll be able to love again.