love/paranoia

I’m at the beach. It’s quiet here, not as crowded as it usually is. I’m sitting on the sand, glancing at the waves chasing one another, perhaps trying to win a race of which can travel the farthest. I want to ride a horse, but I don’t have any money with me at the moment, so I think I’ll just pass. I initially wanted to travel the shore until its end but it’s a long walk, and I only have an hour here. My legs are smothered with sand and it’s dirty, but the best part of it is I don’t even give a fuck. 

I am here because I am trying to throw away every trace of you that you left in me. I am desperately trying to let you go. I can’t believe I’m doing this at last. And although I’m doing this, strangely I still wish you were here next to me. I wish you were here so that we could lay down with our toes in the sand, our fingers intertwined, my head on your side, talking about the things you and I have to catch up about. I wish you were here so that we could explore the shore together, sharing our most comic and fun moments at this exact same place as the sun blazes into our skin. I wish I could be able to see you stand underneath the sunlight, our eyes locked on each other’s sight with you smiling at me,  telling me that this was a good day because I want you to adore you and remember you that way - beautiful, happy, and in love with me.

It took me a long time to realize that I, maybe, was a little bit in love with you, hence I have been too lenient on you and what we have. I have turned soft. With you, I have learned to acquiesce your iniquity. I haven’t loved myself as much as I used to. It’s weird how you still manage to make me feel so worthless despite the countless perfunctory and dearly words you mutter to me. I tried so hard to give you a pass for all the pretexts about your unjust behavior. Despite all the never-ending apologies you give me never once did I not accept them. It was indeed wrong for me to think that I could save you from the hell you are stuck in. You don’t change, you know, you just don’t. If you do, I won’t be there to witness it. I don't know if you will remember me anymore, and I don't know if that is a good thing.

I remember you saying you want me to be happy. In order to feel so, I think I have to walk away from you. There lies a long way ahead for me, and it’s hard. I miss you. I hope this feeling, you, and the remnants of our momentousness together fade away soon.