To The Fresh Breeze I shouldn't Have

Photo by Benjamin Sow on Unsplash

If I had to mention the exact time when you start getting my attention, it'd be on the twenty-fourth of December; the Christmas eve. I don't think it was your smile to make me bewitched at first, but your serious look. It was so deep; so pensive that I want to deep dive into your mind. What were you thinking? 

Then I was captivated by your smile. It looks so good on you. So contagious that it spreads joy. I secretly hope you won't stop smiling despite everything you've been through. 

If I could be honest, I long for this kind of feeling; like, admiration, or fondness? You make me realize that it's been so long since I've felt this way. You're completely like a fresh breeze on a summer's day.

But sadly, you're the fresh breeze I shouldn't have. 

I cannot afford another broken heart. This time, I need to save myself,

Love,

NM.

To The One that Got Away

Photo by Marie-Michèle Bouchard on Unsplash

"What? I am not the one that got away,"  

I already can sense you will say this the first time you read this letter. 

"..but I'm sorry if you feel that way." 

you will continue. Why does saying sorry seem so easy for you to say?

"Sorry if you feel that way."

"Sorry that I can't always be there."

You think that I will always be forgiving, don't you? That I will always be there for you no matter what happens—like what I've written in my letters.

Cause indeed I do. Forgiving you was easy, but healing from its pain was another thing. 

Looking back, I haven't been in a good state, mentally and emotionally, since 2018. The year (I thought) I lose you. I cried a lot. I never knew that losing you could hurt this much. Losing your presence, losing your daily or weekly news, losing the friendship. Losing us.

I also feel like I'm losing myself more and more since you're the only one who knew me well. Back then.

There were days when I was tired to pretend that everything's alright; that you and I are in an okay-ish state. Those days were days I want to snap at you, "what's up with us?! We're not okay, something's off. Don't you feel it?"

Being your friend for more than a decade makes me realize that you are the kind of person who will turn a blind eye to situations you don't fancy to. Acting like things were the same—that we're alright—but there was a new distance around each of us. 

I hate it and I miss you. So much.

I hate inventing you, scripting your lines, instead of having the original. I could write a thousand dialogues between us. Like when we talk about the places we've been, the things we've done, or the jokes we've laughed about.

And now, I can only reminisce all those things. 

But hey, I think I need closure. Can we talk soon? 

Love, 

NM.