dear anonymous,
remember when we rode the plane together? it was your first time riding planes and you were too addicted on the prospect of crashing mid-take off. i laughed as your grip on my hand tightened, and i didn't let go. do you remember the time we first rode the bus together? you were taking me to the terminal where i can catch a bus home to the province. i was sleepy and kept bobbing my head so you tapped your shoulder and gave me a smile to which i replied with resting my head on it and squeezing your hand tighter. i remember the first time you opened up to me and when you introduced me to your family (i was the first girlfriend out of many you introduced). i felt like an archaeologist stumbling upon the tomb of tutankhamun.
i don't think you have any idea how much weight you're putting into my shoulders, now that you decided you wanted something else, something that is not me and whatever it is i can ever be. it's like telling a hungry person to stop eating right at the middle of dinner, and you just take away all the food and hide it forever. i know this is supposed to be the right thing to do, because you wanted someone much like yourself (it's what you've always wanted) and me? i'm different from you. and i guess our meeting was untimely, and i really thought we would go the distance, but apparently it's the distance that helped tear us apart. now i can't stop wanting you more than i ever did, now that you're gone, it just feels like someone bore a hole into my chest and every time i try to move on and let go, i always fall into that hole and back where i was at the beginning right after you told me you didn't love me anymore. this is the most devastating thing i've ever gone through, 'cause you're my first heartbreak.
sometimes i think that maybe i should've tried harder, to convince you that maybe this will work out if we put more effort into it. maybe we could've salvaged something that would've stayed like that until we get married and old. and maybe we'd be living in the place we both planned to retire in, that quiet place--only you and me. even until now i still find myself weeping over this loss. but i guess what hurts the most is that no matter what i say or do, no matter what position i put myself into, no matter how many times i beg or i plead or create flash mobs to try to bring you back into my life, to make you see things the way i do, to make you believe like how i'm still believing, i can't make you stay with me. i can't make you love me anymore, because all your love is used up.