HIATUS. ~(._.~)

It was 6 that night. It was warmer than it usually was, but a shiver still managed to run up my spine as I felt a strong pair of arms wrap around my chest. They squeezed me, letting me know that whoever owns them had no plans of letting me go--not anytime soon, at the very least--before eventually bringing me back to the dark alley a few meters away from where I came from.

Then the rest, as they say, is history.

It was already 11 that same night. It was still warm, but the ground I was walking on felt damp against my bare feet--the small stones stabbing the skin and sending dull pain. It was already dark and I kept walking, with no clear path to follow. Then I finally let myself cry, partly because I really wanted to, but mostly because I was hoping that the tears would wash away the feeling of the man's lips all over my face.

I told some people about it, and all they told me was that I should be grateful to be given a second chance in life. And I simply agreed. What else was there to do? I just had to let it go and be thankful for that god damned man for at least keeping me alive.

I'm scared that even a single drop of the warm fluid that you used to love will bring back a lot of memories of you. I am afraid that a sip from the cup will remind me of all the times that we sat here--on this exact, same table--and how we spent the whole boring afternoon talking about how we hated everyone else except each other. I don't want to remember your lips that always tasted like a combination of nicotine and jasmine, and how it lingered on mine every time we kissed. I am scared that this will remind me how pungent and strong our relationship used to be and how it suddenly turned vapid and cold, just like this cup of tea. I am afraid because once I down this on my throat, after letting it savage my mouth with its intoxicating flavor, it will suddenly disappear--exactly the way you did.

I want to forget all these things, I want to throw them at the back of my mind so they won't come back to haunt me. I want to stop thinking about them--about you, But now, I just realized that it is impossible.

I used to be the cockiest (I think) among my friends.

Me: "Oh, I'll do that!"

Me: "I can do that, ofc, duh"

Me: "I'm good at this"

Me: "Let me fix this"

Lmfao pero ngayon iiyak na lang siguro ako.

so yeah. my father just died last saturday and now im still bangag and all that. and really really full bc ive been stress eating since thurdsday. been living the rp (roleplaying pmsl, kepap thing, even if i am not a kepap fan. just rp-ing for the heck of it.) life for a week, i guess.

so yeah which means the hiatus thing will still go on til i cope up and get all my senses back.

ii. You thought it was "too candid" so you asked your friend to delete it. But she didn't. And God, I'm glad she didn't. 

iii. Why would you even want to delete it? Why would you want your friend to delete the only picture that showed your weaknesses? Your vulnerability? The only photo that showed who you were, who you really are?

iv. Because the filters of your recent selfies are hiding them all up. You cover your sadness by pouting your lips and by flashing your widest smile. You always showed strength and dominance through your photos. They all showed perfection.

v. Far from the girl I met two years ago. The girl who was insecure of her crooked teeth, of her curly hair, and her dark skin. The girl whose weaknesses asked and pleaded and begged me to accept them. And I did. And I missed them. I still do, to be quite honest.

vi. After a few days, you finally convinced your friend to delete it. And now, your back to being the girl who never needed help from anyone. You're back to being the girl who's to perfect for anyone. Especially for me.