You were my summer .
Time is a funny thing .
But emotions and actions are so much funnier .
The world is still turning .
Spring has come and gone , and now it is midsummer, fast approaching autumn .
Life has clearly gone on .
You have gone on .
Why, oh why , do I still wait here ?
Pause by the old bus stop , and gaze into that accursed endless blue sky and wish , just wish sometimes that you would return to me?
Human beings are truly the strangest beings.
I have friends whom live entire continents away.
Yet whom answer to my pain , my joy and share , no matter how burdened they be their lives without my asking.
Yet you who live in the same land, just a town away from mine, have never ever asked after me.
Never bothered to tell me how your day went. Not once in all of a decade and counting that we have known each other .
No matter how much I gave , you never gave back.
Some people are a ray of sunshine . They give off light .And never ask for any in return.
Yet never would I have guessed that you were the opposite , for you turned my light to darkness , stole the very fire within me .
Leaving just bitter ashes and a hollow lamp , where once burned a flame .
You clearly have moved on from me. I just wish I could forget.
I know that, if I was to go and look for you , the saddest thing is that you would be there and respond to my cries .
But like an echo ,your response is empty , hollow and merely out of social obligation than true feelings .
You have never asked for me. Never have you given back or shown any inclination of advancing our relationship.
And really , between the poison , the sting of betrayal , burning away the already frayed thread ....
Is it too unsurprising ... that I made the decision one fine day, when the sun was high on the sky, the sky an endless blue , that no more would I run to you , begging for your time ?
You burned me once , chose another over me .
Yet the pathetic fool I am , or was. I lingered. Begging for a shred of warmth you once gave me in the coldest winter .
So you let me in .
But it just was not the same.
The heart is a bitter thing .
The tree remembers the axe’s mark .
No matter how happy I tried to be, resentment festered like a lurking poison in my veins, burning me in even the happiest moments thereafter your treason .
I just grew tired of the resentment I've felt towards you, an event you have NEVER apologized for , an event you likely forgotten.
You know the funny thing ? The sad thing?
I would have forgiven you in a heartbeat if you had bothered to feel a trite of remorse , remembered my tear stained face as you chose your status over bonds .
But you very clearly have made your decision , given your actions thereafter .
Acting that nothing has changed between us , that has festered over the years no matter how happy I tried to be when I arranged meetings to keep up the friendship.
I grew tired you never asked if You could meet up with me or if I was free.
But maybe .
Just maybe .
I wished for a river, delirious in the stifling heat , saw you and thought you were the one to save me . when in reality you were only a mirage . The mirage of whom I thought you were .
Maybe you were once truly a river, giving and overflowing with life and love. But when I reached all I found was a bitter dried bed .
Perhaps , it is really, truly my fault , so caught up in false hope that I deluded myself into thinking you were such . After all , you are who you are.
No one is meant to be the key to solve all of one’s problems.
Am I so different and better from those whom call themselves deserving affection from another merely for doing good when good in reality is what we all should be doing and being ?
All I know is that I will no longer stem my own happiness from another ever again . It is really , truly , is not fair to any of the parties involved really.
Someone very wise once told me . To be in love with the idea of someone is not real love at all .
Hence this is why I apologize in part for thinking you were the remedy , desperately clinging to you.
For believing you were the spring to bring about life in my barren frozen wasteland .
It was naive of me, self centered to put so much on your shoulders . A responsibility you never wanted.
But you took my trust too . When given the choice of your status or doing what was right.
You set alight any respect I had for you by choosing your status and the act broke me .
Broke me till I wished for the earth to swallow me whole.
So horrible and aching and hollow I felt thereafter for ever putting my trust into another , one who once promised me the earth and the stars , told me , made me feel I was something.
Something the rest of the world sneered at. But to me , you were once my world. Would have given you the sun and the moon.
So I dare say, this breaks us even .
Maybe you are a lesson to me sent by the gods . A painful one who broke my very heart and burned me.
Who knows .
But what I did learn from you is this .
if the sole reason we were to cross paths in this lifetime, if you were not sent by the gods to share a life with , but to be a parable , is this.
Rome was built on ashes.
And true , you aided in breaking me, held your tongue as they mocked me, belittled my very core .
Watched as they tied me to a pyre and set me aflame .
But when all of me was ashes, the fire died down , and as you turned around without a single glance. And walked away, with nary a care, relieved that you kept your beloved status .
Oh my darling.
Didn’t you once tell me one blue day , so very long ago , when there was not a cloud in the sky?
When I was wrapped in your arms, clinging to you like a lifeline , weeping over being ostracized for my differences. that I was like no other , thus I could never belong .
Never felt like I belonged .
And you whispered fiercely in my ear, you thought I was special .
You loved how different I was from the others .
Oh darling .
Both of us had no idea how special I am .
For from ashes , though broken I was , shaken , the jeers still ringing in my ears, my once white dress now blackened, I still rose once more.
And that was when I learnt from this, that no matter how much any will try and burn me , like a Phoenix , I will rise and resurrect.
I did run after you even after how you treated me . The way a dog will run after it’s master, oh so loyally , no matter how poorly it was treated , even abused for sport .
Because did not once the master treat it kindly and thus gained it's love?
I am no dog .
I grew tired of being the one who has to keep this farce of a relationship stemming from an idea of a person I wish you were. Or once was.
So at one point , I closed my eyes and started running away
. Down a different path .
Maybe more lonesome, uncharted and unknown .
But I was free. Broken , burnt , lost but free.
There, that path brought me back to my family . And together , we ran off to a different land .
One brimming with life, perhaps more mundane, than the fantastical wonderland I wandered down once and met you .
And yet. As happy as I am now. ..
I still miss you .
See, that's the hard part.
I have to continually focus on the bad in order to block out the good because I miss you as much as I try to deny it .
Because on some days....
When the summer days become sizzling hot, I miss you
so much it hurts.
I miss going to your house , going up the winding little path in my best dress , proud then that I had just gotten a new job , the sounds of grasshoppers and cicadas chirping merrily away in the undergrowth , not a cloud in the sky . A cool breeze winds around my bare legs like a friendly cat, I laugh . I am excited, young and feel happy. I get onto the rickety old lift, waiting impatiently, my new expensive shoes tapping an impatient beat till the number reaches your level.
Your door opens.
Chatting with you about just about anything . Anything under the sun.
I miss sitting down as you bounce around your tiny apartment , talking about your present life , your life growing up as a kid. The antics your pets get up too. Your dreams, your worries.
I miss eating ice cream with you and tea and being offered chocolates from a land far, far away .
I miss you when summer turns to autumn. Heading to your house, jumping on the dead leaves , a kaleidoscope of colors , screaming in laughter as I run to your house to escape the smoke from the pest killers who are fogging the fields to your little flat.
I miss your hugs. I miss having to bend down as I now tower over you and you say I am getting so big. I am no longer the little child you met so years ago.
There is a saying that all wounds will heal.
I never thought I would say this. But yes, while this wound over my heart opens and reopens, but it is growing smaller, the pain less intense, and it's hardening to become a thin white line.
Time has passed . Time will go on .
A year has passed since I made this decision .The pain grows lesser, inch by inch.
One day this wound will not reopen anymore.
Maybe one day even it will be a thin white line .
A reminder eternal of what you left for me .
They say you forget a person but you never forget how they treated you .
Perhaps one day i will even touch it and smile .
But as I clench my teeth , force myself not to run past that old bus stop , up the green hill , to the gate where beyond in a secluded viridian in spring , golden in summer , now scarlet and tangerine forest lies your home , down my path . That is right . My path. No more down yours .
Fighting back tears . Cursing the whimper that I let out from the yearning still so strong , it still stings not to follow it .
That day is not today.