for the last time
What's heavier? A kilogram of feather or 1 kilogram of steel?
Two years back I had it all figured out. I was going to study under a ladderized humanities program and push for law school. Every teenager who had dreams of gold would have felt the same drive and passion. But I'm stuck, not in a city under the Arabian sky, this time in endless circle of emptiness and constant need of motivation.
You were my motivation, you know? So for the last time I dedicate something to you, through the only avenue I've always knew - words and letters.
Today, a few years back, I would have been panicking trying to pick the best gift for you. Things should have ended then, it was your day, but I never stopped gravitating towards you. The cold March breeze of Muscat blew the same winds today.
March always seemed like the month of graduation, endings, and new beginnings. It's always the third month of the year that weighs me down. I just don't know how to strive better when I had the best.
Months have passed since I last wove paragraphs that aren't of heartbreaks and mistakes. What we had was too short and too young, to last this long. You are everywhere in what I write, in the poems I perform on open mics, and sometimes I wish you were not. I find you in movies, it's probably a part of the reason why I crave creativity that reminds me of you and me. I would still cry to movies, books, and music that gives me the melancholy I never asked for.
I miss the trustfalls, the slow dances, and the interlacing of our pinky fingers under the sunset. They say that it's usually the love that did not occur a natural death that are immortalized. I am scared, because I do not know. I was brave because I had a story to tell, but these days feel like I'm in a daze. I am scared because what we had is immortalized in the poems I wrote and in the linearts you have made.
Here's to hoping you know that I have grown out of the romance under the moon and stars. I stopped reciting the prose and poems that are scarred of our memories. They never made it to spotlight but it sure filled the corners of my notebook pages, Google Docs journals, and the Word document that I no longer open. I have grown. You have, too, in many ways I probably do not know of.
I know you wished upon the shooting stars back then. We never knew each others' wishes way back during that meteor shower, but today, I hope you wish carefully.
And me? I wish you well, always and forever. We'll get the love story we so deserve, and I hope to see you soon. I felt free the last time I looked up the night sky, despite the backpain from online classes. I am more happy than not.
I don't know where it went bonkers but I knew it's bound to end in ashes. For the last time, I'm writing about you and whatever was in the space between us.
Happy birthday.
Patuloy na magsusulat, magtatanghal, at magmumulat.
Nagmamahal,
Mabes.
