Mad Love Left Unspoken


Contributed by: yeye

The only regret I have from the moment we became an “US” was thinking that he was already THE ONE. I wanted him to be the one I’ll be spending the rest of my life with. I wanted the relationship forever. I thought that despite the troubles we were facing, we could hold on because we had our love as a source of strength. Alas, all these were to no avail. The only thing I could think of now is that it’s all over.
“Don’t leave me honey….”

Up until now, I can still vividly remember those words; I told him I won’t leave him, as long as I still loved him. And I really didn’t.

Wear and barely two months later, he left. I thought maybe that was the reason why he asked me not to leave him, because he wanted to be the one to leave.

That night when all he could say was goodbye gave birth to my misery. And until this time. I’m still crying over him. For several days I tried to conceal those emotions because I didn’t want to lose control of myself. I had a thesis to finish then. Thank God for that because it kept thoughts of him at bay for the mean time. When the thesis was done, a space large enough for him was forming inside my head, which somehow depressed me.

As much as I did not want to think about him, he still stays inside my mind. Maybe because he’s still inside my heart.

I can’t give you the kind of relationship that you want. I can’t be with you because I’m bound to an arrangement which I supposed I need to fulfill.
“Goodbye honey…”

I supposed you get the picture. His parents had already picked up the girl they wanted him to marry. It already hurts that his parents do not want me for their son. But what hurts more is that he can’t stand for himself and fight for the love he claims to have for me.

Now it’s all over and I could only cry for what I couldn’t have.
Forevermore no longer exists. Maybe it does, but not for both of us.

There are not enough words to describe the pain it caused me. All I knew was there was so much pain that if I began to succumb myself to it. I would entirely lose my mind. So I had to deal with those damn feelings of anger, resentment, and most of all, love, by myself.

My tears started to roll down my face. I hated myself for crying so much over this guy. But he was not just one guy. To me, he was the future. The one whom I wanted to grow old with, or so I thought the one whose future was already designed for him.

The only regret I have from the moment we became an “US” was thinking that he was already THE ONE. I wanted him to be the one I’ll be spending the rest of my life with. I wanted the relationship forever. I thought that despite the troubles we were facing, we could hold on because we had our love as a source of strength. Alas, all these were to no avail. The only thing I could think of now is that it’s all over.

I stopped dreaming because of this. I least half my passion for writing. I felt like I was transforming into someone I did not want to get acquainted with. All because I still couldn’t accept that he’s gone.

One night, my classmates invited me over. A bottle of gin was waiting for us, surrounded by assorted “pulutan.” I’m not a drinker, actually, but that night I wanted to release the pain I was keeping, locked inside. The rounds began. And so I drank.

I couldn’t remember how many times I downed the remains of the glass handed to me, but I knew how strong the liquid entered into my throat. Nonetheless, I did not care, if this was one way of easing myself out of the burden of losing him, then why hinder myself? Who cared if I got drunk, anyway? That one bottle gave birth to three bottles, already lying empty on the floor.

Some were outside, smoking, I wasn’t a smoker either, but I asked for one stick. Just one stick to complete my being carefree for the night. One stick became two. three. four. Make that four and a half.

I used the other half of my fifth stick to make a hole in one of my pants’ bottom legs, a reminder of how I become not-so-me for that night. Afterwards, I consumed the cigarette, threw the butt out, and began ripping on that small hole with such might that my friend beside me got frightened of what could possibly happen to my hands if I tore on it harder. In a few minutes, my pants already modeled the rip I created and sat down again for the next rounds of the alcohol.

My cellphone startled me, before I even looked at whom it came from, my cheeks already turned warm while my heart pounded on my chest. I guess the message brought me back to sanity, because I started to cry again while I was reading it. It came from him, telling me yet of another goodbye. My friends were already rubbing my back, whispering that it was okay; that there were still more deserving guys in the world waiting to be noticed, and that I could cry for as long as I wanted to.

I didn’t get drunk that night. I wish I had. I wanted to, to give me peace of mind even for that single night. His memories came back. How I hated him for doing that to me! But I guess I could not deny that I lived him. Yes, I still love him. I never stopped. To this day, I know he’s still the one I would forever want. I have no intention of letting him know how I feel, for fear that I might complicate things more, I guess it’s better this way, if I have to suffer for his happiness… that’s how much I have come to love him. That’s how much I have fallen deeply in love with him.

The tears slowly subsiding tonight. I cried enough for now. But tomorrow is another day, another day of facing the world wearing not a true smile but a broken heart. I feel almost naked inside. Maybe because a large part of me is disappeared when he did. My only hope is that he could come back to dress me up again and refill the void he left. But I know I’m hoping against hope. That would never happen. He won’t come back anymore because there is someone else waiting for him. And now, I’m left to struggle with the pain and to stand up where I had fallen.

There would be no more tears for tonight… only unfulfilled promises…
only pain…


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