You stopped me. Turned around. Walked away. Left.
I wasn’t able to tell you everything, even anything, because you told me that you’re too scared to hear it. I don’t know what should I react that moment but one thing is for sure, I did my part. I don’t think that putting my emotions here in my blog will do me any good. It’s just that, I wasn’t able to say it, that’s why I follow my blog’s title.
I’m sorry. You told me that you always feel awkward whenever you’re with me. It’s my fault. I was careless. You’re feeling it, because I’m doing things for you to feel something, and I’m doing such things because of what I feel. I don’t know if everything returned to me in a rush, but I know that it won’t leave that way. I decided to talk to you that night, but I’m not looking for a positive feedback. I just know that I’ll forever regret it if I don’t say something, something that will release the burden I carry. Too bad you stopped me.
Many things have changed since the first day you talked to me. Since the day you approached me while I was standing outside the Chemistry Laboratory, until the night you chose to leave a scar in my heart. A scar that will never be heal. A pain that I don’t think time can take away. A feeling, that was 3 years in the making. I used to break people’s hearts, but in you, it is my heart that turned into pieces. Now, there will be no another CHANCE.
I’m not hypocrite to tell you that you and I are fine. I’m serious. So please stop waving every time you see me. Stop smiling whenever our eyes met. And when you do, that will be the sign that you’ve read this post. I want to be true to myself. Call it bitterness if it is the right term. I just can’t stand how you leave like I’m not even someone you know at all. But still, I want to thank you. I know I’m already strong, but you made me even stronger. And I know I will need it. I need it for the people who trust and love me. For the people who know they can hurt me, but won’t try to. For the people who will not leave me, in the time I need them the most. And for the one who is picking up, or will pick up the pieces.
P.S. Happy Birthday.
