Chapter 4: The Break Up

"thanks... whoever you are"

the last words I heard before she cried... I wanted to speak but I couldn't. I understand her pain... and I wanted to comfort her,,, but deep inside of me are just excuses I have for myself not to feel whatever I have in me. We never talked, we broke up over the phone,,, there were no closure to our 4 year relationship, just an empty waiting, and stagnant growing pain from moving forward...

"hi... it's me...

I stuttered as I push my lips to say something... I was starring at the leaves as the rain slowly fading away.... its almost 5 in the morning and I can hear the honky sound of the vendor selling puto and kuntyinta...

"bossing! you want? you want?"

i slowly smiled at him and just signed him no... not today.. It taste bitter... the cold coffee i have been holding since she called. I never realized how bitter it is till now... I grew silence waiting for my lips to say something.. when i heard her voice...

"it was not easy for me... and i know its not easy for you to... but this is where we ends..."

i wanted to cry, the pain of her saying that is like a jagged knife..

"I love you despite of the pain, despite of the reality of being hurt and the insanity of us not being together... Ive learned to love you near me.. I learned to love you in a distance... despite of our fights, despite of my insecurities and your demands... I have loved every pieces of us...

"I have loved you more than I have loved anyone... I have feared our future more than the pain I have...

theres no easy way of letting ourselves go knowing the relationship isn't there anymore... but the pain of knowing we gaved everything but theres no more "us"on our love...

I'm not wishing for your happiness... cause Im not sure Im ready to see that. Im selfishly inlove with you,,, even when you already learned to let me go.... Im not wishing for your relationship to move... knowing your already chosen to be with someone else... I despise your words... I hated your promses. I cursed you let me hold on, when you already held on to someone else..."

"There were no more us.. ...nothing but a past..."

I wanted to cry... I wanted to shout,,, I wanted to die. But as I opened the gate I heard her whispered with a sobbing voice...

"I love him for everything, from the sorrow and happiness... What ever the pain I have is not enough for a reason for me to give up... I let him go because I want to find myself... I let him go because he needs to learn to love me less... we cant be together not because we love each other less than the others... Ill cherish everything about who we are,,, its my pain and my strength so I can be better,,,"

The pain of letting go. and the pain of moving forward... its a cycle I couldnt understand... but the pain Im having isn't the pain of being hated, nor is it a feeling of being neglected or betrayed... a love that was real but lost is a memorry to remember, a pain that scars is a lesson i should learn to be better... I understand the pain Im having... It's the pain of having nothing but reality... the chase of being the best boyfriend I can be to her is gone, the fear of being a husband to her is done, to progress in my career to serve her better...to dream to go to placess... everything that gaved meaning to what i was doing is nothing but a past now... The pain im having isn't because of her... the pain i have is because i lost myself while holding on to hers...

there's no break up in a relationship that lived and died because of love...

i understand that now.

as I said my last words to her, as i listen to her last cry, as the sun rise up I found something... not a friend, not a meaning to what was... not even a clue of how she fall out of love, not destiny... not a happy ending... not a tragic end either.. i haven't found myself yet... but i found a very important part of it...

my reality.

Im not hopeless, im not hopeful, im not empty.. im not discourage... i haven't found my happiness, nor do I have a reason for sadness,,, I'm not alone, but Im not with anyone either, my simplest reality

"I am free"

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Chapter 3: The Butter Knife and Grass Rake

"I miss you too... I wish we could talk can I call you? -jeremy"

I can't hear anything. the rain havent stopped... the clapping sounds of the birds flying out of the rain...the buzzing sound of my cellphone... .... I can see them moving... but I can't feel anything... not even hear them...

"...."

am I feeling fear?





I starred at the phone... Its her 5th call now... why?... she knows i'm not Jeremy... why is she calling me?...

"Why?"

My hand started to move, I didn't have the energy to stop myself.. does my fear turned suddenly to curiosity? no... i dont think so... still nothing. even the fear I suddenly felt when I first saw my phone rang with her call...

why?...

I dont even who's this girl is... She doesn't even know who I am...

why?...

why did I felt the sudden catch of breath...

"i miss you..."

Her voice led a tear in my eyes... Its been a long time since I heard someone with this voice.... was It been 2 years now?.... I can still rememeber her voice... the first time we broke up.... the first time I heard her cried.... the first time I felt a pain inside of me.. cutting my soul... ripping my own sanity,,,,






I remember this pain....





...I remember this clearly...






but its not the same ..






not with what I have been feeling lately.






Her voice... It's not like what I imagine... angelic... sweet... innocent. I starred blankly at the sky... there was stilll some stars even with the heavy rain... I fool around with rain drops in the leaves while I listen to her seak...



I never opened my lips... not even in a blink of an eye did I opened It... I shut myself silence as I listen to her love story... as she confess her love towards jeremy....

"I can live a life without you loving me back... but i cant live a life knowing someday i have to let you go... we are meant to love each other... but we are not meant to be together... "
"I wanted you to see me when your eyes look at me... not just a girl who gave everything to a boy she always loved...

"I learned to love you more, but you thought me to love myself less..."


I stare at a distance, catching every confession she has... for the first time I wanted to speak to her... I wanted her to hear my voice...


Go Back To Chapter 2: Twin Scars
Go To Chapter 4: The Break Up ( Last Chapter )

Chapter 2: Twin Scars

The breakfast was nice, another pandesal dunked in a coffee while I watch the rain...




my headset is on. another song from the 90's... ...looks...fun...?



I never txted back...



I was staring at the number....



It's not from her...



I know.

"have I gone insane?"

.......

"I miss you"

.........

"I want to feel something..."

"please?"

"I feel so numb."

"Why can't I feel anything?"

"why? ... who are you? ...."

"....... "

There's a deep silence In our house,,, just me around. . .I can hear the echo of my tapping,

tap... tap... tap...

my mind will go from blank... to depression,

then blank...

...then silence...

then..... nothing.

buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!!!

buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!!!

My eyes stare silently at the phone... another txt... from an anonymous sender... I just stare at my phone as I play around with the heavy raindrops in my hand. I dont feel anything... nothing... but i dont feel empty... not with my cellphone kept ringing... buzzing... moving... I feel like...





I have a stranger to accompany me with my confused feeling...





I took a stick in my hand, with my hand dripping wet from the rain i pushed read in my phone and blankly stared while it loads...





"Im sorry... I didnt mean to walk away from you... Jeremy? I miss you... I know We cant have what we had... I cant ask for us to be together again... "

silence...

"...nice..."

"...I'm not jeremy."

"...nice."

I don't want to be rude... but i cant helped but to crack a little laughter while i read the name "jeremy" .

Just my luck... another wrong sender. As I tried to think how can I say to her that she's txting a wrong person... another txt poped in my cell...


"I'm still inlove with you... But We are not meant to be... . you decided to be with your family... I need to decide to move along with my life... I didnt expect to miss you this much."



From deep emptiness I felt a small rock of anger in my blood... I hated girls like this... I hated men for putting their family in risk just to satisfy their pleasure... But I hated women more when they decide to be with a married guy...




I know what I will txt... I know what I want...

"I miss you too... I wish we could talk can I call you? -jeremy"

Go Back To Chapter 1" Smoking A Bad Habit

Go To Chapter 3: Butter Knife & a Grass Rake

Chapter 1: Smoking a bad habit

The silence of the midnight is a fearsome annotation of a past.

Every time I'm awake I can freely move forward with my life, but whenever I fell asleep my foots kept crawling back to my dimmed past...



same thoughts kept coming back....

"Is it enough?"

....I want to close my eyes without you looking back at me, I cant remember being satisfied with our little habitual dance, but there was an uncanny happiness...an uneasy feeling of happiness.



Its 3:30am in the morning when my body suddenly turned.



Silence in the air,,,

a cold whisper of thoughts... "I'm alone again...typical..."

I saw my cellphone vibrates under my sofa bed... "...shit" I silently whisper. a fear and excitement inside me are like knives cutting through my heart.





Did you text me... after 3 weeks of no communication?



after a month of waiting?



after the last promise you gave me....







I bravely held the phone and pressed the small circle in the middle to see what you wanted to say.

"3:30am WAKE UP ASSHOLE! TIME TO JOG!!"

It was just my alarm I made since the first time I held my new phone, I remember pointing out to you the "walk mate"program my new phone has, "haha I wont be alone every morning i wake up to run" you silently smile trying to look interested,,, I already have a concern about "us" since then.



I never run. I wanted too... but my feet too heavy, my legs feels so numb. I just wanted to wake up every time my phone rung.



that's all..

"stupid."

i told myself... for the last few weeks I kept tangling a web of hope of "us" to my needy soul... "I need to delete that stupid alarm" i silently scolded myself.





My brain... and my heart does not work well together. I'm smarter than what I have become... I know it. but my heart.... my heart is betraying my very soul. With all the quotes, with all the perceptions and perspective I kept posting in my facebook... i thought... If i read what my mind is thinking.... my heart would understand what I wanted to do.



"Emotero... Weirdo..."words that describes who I am now. I wish they know the feeling of pain...



Its not the same as a knife cut to your flesh,



its not the pain when a hot oil slowly spitted on your skin,,,



its not the pain when a person betrays you,,,




I wish I knew what this pain is... and what it meant....



I silently opened the front door of my unit and walk through the small hallway pass through our carport... I held a fliptop in my hand , slowly opening it with my trmbling hand.... ïts always cold in the morning" i murmured.



I silently smoked my thoughts of the past. If my brain dies so will my heart... as the chemicals in every puff kills the cells of my life....as i slowly enjoy the vague memorry slowly dissapearing....




Im not killing myself...



Im trying to set myself free from the shackles of my past....







then my cellphone rung... "another alarm"? I asked myself while ignoring it... I love how it vibrates in my hands... like an alive creature slowly dying in my hand... like a heart i have.. slowly loosing hope.... then it will just stop.



I turned the phone over to see what I listed for todays quest to live a lie of a fruitful life.... " such a hypocrite" I admitted.



I saw the small envelope in my screen and a message appeared.

"1 unread message"

I opened it and frozed....



I dropped the cigarette and checked if I read the message wrong...



It was a no name sender...



I recognized the number...



but It was not in my list...



with my confused joy i read it with my lips and whispered the words...

"I miss you..."

Go To Chapter 2: Twin Scars 

Footprints and a Rose

Chapter 1 - My Apathy Scar; A Bleeding Strength

   The dominating sky held earth in a distance where men can't reach no matter how far his arms stretches...

I read in one of the books I bought about how Einstein thoughts understood things other men didn't; finding every possible solution rather than sticking to one solution we concluded the best...

  Probability of some things...

   personal agenda...

ignorance...

 

curiosity...

pain? ...

boredom... 

liberty?

.....................

The night sky calms me... as I watch the clouds dances around the moon, thoughts of finding myself is a dinner of heart burns and headache... voices kept changing but they ask the same thing...

what are you doing?

  A closure of misfortune, distrust and disgusted beliefs, a momentum of anarchy, socialism and over rated exposure of what is happiness and what are satisfaction... what is beautiful and what are meaningful... dictated with the wind of stupidity and dependence, I relied on a joyous moments while living a lie... or so i thought.

  As the night sky dances around the moon and the stars, I walked around the paved ground of my daily bunt, barefooted I dragged my foot felting the hard knuckles of the soulful steps.. 

"how many have walked in this?"
"how many stories can you tell me?"
"how many tears of pain? how many tears of joys have you taken in you? "

 I stare at the ground as I asked this question in my head... My happiness isn't define by the smiles I made neither the laughter I took for granted... everything I did was all in the past,,, what my present isn't titled to judge my own action but will it dictate my future? 

....

I cut my foot while rubbing my sole to the ground, a piece of metal was stuck on it probably from an old guy's shave... I bleed with delight for somehow It felt right. Insanity in me is only a child... a mischievous matured portion of  myself is what I fear most... again... I'm hearing voices... ...again.... and again.... I'm hearing them asking...

What are you doing?

 I silently stepped away while I tip toed my way back to my office chair, few months ago I decided to make an office out of an old building my family owned.... the business here was slow and my uncle bought it but he has no idea what to do with it. but me... I wanted to own a business of designs, graphic and architectural  creation are my inspiration,, just like a smoking addiction, designing is a breath of fresh air for me... from the 5 day of work in an office of unquestioned discrepancy between life's responsibilities and life's meaningfulness. I needed some time alone with my flows and sanity, my insane depression and my uncanny weirdness...  

 I held my old charcoal and a piece of scratch paper of computations and drawing proposals I made weeks before and started scratching senseless doodle of lines and geometry... just like my life. Between my professional stagnant growth of corporate practice, and my desire to be who I am as I desired since I met liberty... senseless doodle are posted on the old storage walls, hiding all the cracks and bleached paints of laminated sheets....

"What are you doing?"

I asked myself...

 Failure doesn't hold meaning to me, but it is a shackle of bolted pins and metallic balls on my wrist and legs.

a  second paper and still messing around with a black and white sepia of disfigured creation... I wanted to learn art... but my friend told me, you need to understand emotions first.... emotions... pain and happiness? love and fear? trust and lies? emotions... 

.....

  I held a piece of cloth and poured alcohol in my hands... the cold wind is a breathing cold fire that burns my palm, i didn't noticed my cuts until the alcohol touched my skin... "must have been from the time I was cooking dinner"  I thought.

Pain... holds no meaning to what I want. But it is a cage that held my sorrow and satisfaction away from me.

what are you doing?

Stop. 

Stop!

.........................

Then Silence.... 

I can't hear the slow music...

Silence...

The broken faucet has stopped dripping

Silence...

... trapped...

....Caged...

My hand held slowly but tightly a piece of blade...


DON'T!


My eyes stared at the blurred reflection of my face...


"Who are you?"






no respond.



...silence...

then blood.

my sight started to dimmed ...

Silenced. 

Blinded. 

Wounded... 

The box that caged me... 

The whispering voices that held me.. 

...everything ....

gone.

nothing.

not a feeling.

nothing but my body moving again.

... I pushed my legs to stand and walked to the charcoal portraits I made.... I feel weak... and a little bit confused....

I smiled with that feeling... 

and smirked while I can feel my life running dry

I wonder what will flash back to me...

 a journey of regrets and failure...?

questions... 

can i still find an answer?

how does it feel to be wanted ..


how does it feel to be accepted?


how...


how...?


how.

  I dropped the blade and held my hand high on the paper walls... The voices in my head stopped. But I can feel their presence...

their whispering voices... 

silenced... 

but with an open eye they stared. My feet started moving... the blood are now spilling.... my eyes are shut. but my lips are smiling....

  In my last ounce of strength, I dragged my last writ.

A last vowed... 

a last promised....

a memory where I'm the only one that understand it's woth... 

I smiled....

Emotions?







I understand it.

  As I dropped on the solid knuckled floor, with my left wrist cut and my right hand held the damped cloth... I slowly opened my eyes and stared at the perforated roof of a self made office floor.


Held my left wrist and tied the cloth around it.

 The voices grew on a menacing souls that ripped me a part,

my happiness and sadness, 

my caged of undignified actions... 

my mistakes... 

my regrets... 

everything... 

written on a canvass of charcoaled paper wall... 

written above the black and white emphasis of my depression... 

my last writ of emotions.

A promise of a silent moving on, 

un obstructed emotion....

my apathy.

Enough.