#j9ls

Yes, I admit it.

I fell for your cocky attitude.

I fell for your sweet scent.

I fell for the way you simply existed.

And I let myself believe it meant something.

But I have to admit the truth—

I don’t feel the same anymore.

I admit it was a mistake,

a mistake I kept slipping into,

again,

and again,

and again.

This love of mine was too easy.

Too careless.

It drained me.

And God, I hate it.

I hate what I felt.

I hate how much I let it break me.

These feelings… they were messy.

A turn off,

but not really a turn off—

just something that confused me,

consumed me,

and left me empty.

Distance.

Reality.

You’re a married man.

A widower.

And honestly, it’s not even the issue.

I don’t judge you for your past,

nor the life you lived before me.

But I know this won’t work.

Not with the way the world talks.

Not with the way people look.

I’ve already received enough judgment in my life,

and I can’t bear to add another stain

to the image I’m still trying so hard

to build for myself.

And so I apologize—

not to you,

but to myself.

For letting my heart wander where it shouldn’t.

For allowing a feeling that had no place to grow.

For hurting myself with a love

that was never meant to bloom.

I’m sorry.

I’ve sinned in silence.

I’m sorry.

I can’t accept these emotions.

I’m sorry.

Because deep down, I know—

I noticed you

from the very beginning

of my life-changing opportunity.

I shrugged it off,

telling myself — not a chance.

We all have boundaries.

I built mine,

far from the idea of love.

Not love — just admiration.

I admire people who work hard.

I admire people who are kind.

I admire people who are funny.

Which is you —

I funny you.

As time passed,

I felt something off.

I started to notice everything about you —

your actions,

your small ways —

familiar,

dangerously so.

I told myself, never mind, let it go.

Until today.

November 13, 2025.

8:00 in the morning.

I noticed your scent.

Your sweet, addictive scent.

A scent I want to smell from a guy.

Your pheromones,

acting up and pulling me in.

What kind of sorcery is this?

Why is it so addictive?

I want to hug you —

from behind, or face to face —

and just breathe you in.

I want to bury my nose in you.

I want to stay close,

let your scent follow me everywhere.

Your scent.

Your scent.

Your sweet, addictive scent.

Damn it.

I’m doomed.

I’m starting to fall

A little rant about what is happening now.

Actually, I have been searching for myself for almost 5 months now after passing my board exam. I've been denying my true purpose and field, haunted by the thought that I might fail as an educator.

An educator is a torchbearer. They are the ones who light up the minds of all children. They carry the dreams of the future. I still see that in me. I still feel that I can do it too. I can still be a torchbearer, but I am filled with doubts and frightened that I might cause harm instead. I am scared. Truly, I am. I am a coward.

I don’t want to see children grow up feeling as much of a failure as I did. I want them to see the true purpose of life, guided by someone stronger and wiser than me. I don’t want to shatter their dreams because of my own shortcomings, and that is why I keep running away from my true purpose.

I still see myself as a failure because of that one demonstration I failed back when I was a college student. What is the reason I call myself a failure when I actually graduated? Well, because I didn’t deliver my demonstration well. There were so many flaws, so many parts that needed polish. That’s why, in my heart, I branded myself a failure.

I passed my board exam because I wanted it to be the key to my future. But guess what—it hasn’t opened anything. I’m still here, unemployed. I keep chasing other opportunities, trying to redirect myself, but still, I’m stuck. No one wants to hire me.

Contaminated mind, unfinished business in the basement.

Burning, burying to the ground -

house is still there, haunting you.

Twice, cowardly escaping to a chamber she cowardly entered -

a decision she cowardly regretted - forever.

She confuses heart.

She confuses mind.

She confuses herselft.

She confuses love — really woman, what you want?

Love was not an option.

Love is a sacred. — according to you and some.

Love is not a playground.

Love burns you real, right?

You came back to house — hopefully, hopelessly.

You went out for life.

Does the owner keeps the door open?

Does he still waits

...

And lie about life?

Yet, he is no longer waits —

Love said a heart never beats for who abandons it.

The home was not a home 'cuz —

He, no longer waits the owner to return.

Where does the confused heart go?

X said, kissing you.

O said, hugging you.

Where’s the difference

when I keep missing you?

Ah, right! They said, “It can wait.”

Ah, right! You said, “We’ll get there.”

Where? When? I'm-patiently waiting for nothing.

Twenty-three years— twenty-three years of loveless age.

I’ve felt it— THAT! Do you?

that unexplainably annoying, sparkling thing.

Well, Am I even allowed to experience it?

You’ve drawn a line I’m not supposed to cross.

It was all a lie, wasn’t it?

A lie it continues to disguise— for love.

A lie continues to fool me at every single time.

Ah! Who is it I’m thinking of in this moment?

Why Be Mine—why this title?

Is there someone hidden behind those words?

I know you’re certain—he’s the only one you know.

Be mine—I’ll do anything to make you happy.

Be mine—I’ll write a thousand poems to stir your heart.

Be mine—I’ll be the happiest person in this world.

Be mine—you’ll be mine, and mine forever.

Funny how I can gather a little courage.

Funny how I can find a million words about you.

Funny how I can be silly just to make you laugh.

Funny how I can be a coward when it comes to love.

“I need you to find yourself first, before love.”

You are the reason I found myself—

is this what they call love?

“Love is not a quick escape from finding yourself.”

You are the reason I can smile, laugh, and feel happy.

Was everything then not love?

Were all those moments we shared not growing feelings?

Were our quarrels not tests of time?

Was everything we had not real?

How foolish of me.

How stupid of me.

I assumed it was something.

I believed my feelings for you were real.

No. It can’t be.

I don’t want you to be mine.

I don’t want it.