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Life is not worth living.
These words came out of my mouth when I was tormented by photos that were unpleasant to my heart's well-being. It only proves how much of a weak man I am and how pathetic my emotions are towards measly things that are of unimportance in life. To me, it was more than just photos but proof that I am second only to your heart . . . and maybe even last to none at all.
What my eyes saw sparked anger in me. Confusion? Hatred? Distress? Agony? But why would I even feel these things when I should be happy for you? Finally happy that you have found someone else to keep you company at nights when you need someone to talk to. I should be glad you can finally paint a smiling curve on your face... the very same smile that I cherish when we are together. I should be assured that the girl I love in secret has someone to place her shoulders on and feel safe on someone else's caress. No longer does she need the company of a haggard, self righteous, ambitious, and pretentious man whose intentions are rather far-fetched and questionable.
It never really was a problem to me whether or not you would care at all about the state of my life as I am a grown adult who can better take care of himself. It was always a problem to me that you are alone to fend off for yourself emotionally without a Mother to take care of you personally and a Father to provide for your needs every day. I trusted your Mother she would take good care of you... but I never expected that she would leave you to work abroad. Not a surprise as I would've done the same as a loving parent whose concern is her child's future.
I never cared if you never cared about me. I'm perfectly fine. Always. Always fine. But I always cared what you thought about me. Every single word you say that has bearing on me, I took into account and made sure to never forget. I never misaligned your words to your intentions... and I never forget what boundaries are set within our limits. The problem is . . . I am just a dumb man who easily forgets.
Ironic it may sound, no. I think all this time, I still have a deep and intricate sense of adoration towards you. Although, you never really cared about that. Have you?
Tell me, mei, did you care about how I feel? Do you?
To me, you are like a puzzle to solve. Carefully, I thread on every thin linen cloth I can put my finger on and carefully stitch the linings. You are, to me, a mysterious person who cowls on their carefree nonchalant ways of living. You never fail to always make me think about you. As if I am bound to this curse of a neverending cycle of thoughts of you. It keeps on torturing me every day. I hideously light up a cigarette, fill my lungs with smoke, and exhale to relieve myself off of our yesterday memories of afternoons in the beach, on the lighthouse, at home, wherever we went to...
...or maybe, I am just another person to you. This sleepy head laying down in misery who cannot get over your effervescent smile, vivacious strawberry scent, and enthusiastic childishness. Maybe you hate me for simply my existence. You never liked how dramatic I am towards things and you never find it pleasant how annoying I am.
I sigh in disbelief.
Deep in the night, I toast bread, cook some beans, and make coffee whilst listening to the playlist of songs I made for you thinking you'd listen to it. Maybe, you don't really need this playlist anymore. I feel like your good friend rophel already made one just for you. What an interesting lad. I would love to meet him some day.
Huh. It's true what Arthur says. Every life story is a story of suffering. And to me, life is just not worth living. Living is a constant dying. If so, why don't we just end it all in one go? I digress.
I'll hold on to my promises... of visiting you in my healthiest state, of gifting you a present for your birthday, and of holding on to photos we have together (if you ever care about those). It's always with me. And, to your good friend rophel. Take care of mei dearly. You are a lucky man. She shows to you what she doesn't to me. A sweet, loving girl who's passionate about things that she loves and adores. All her demons are mine to keep and cherish.
Honestly, I would like to have both. For the time being, I lay in rest as I torment myself further with thoughts of her.
