It's been a few months since we really stop talking about what had happened. since we chose not to have any other relation than friendship. I accepted it willingly, I will not ask anything more than friendship. and I stick to my promise. We hadn't really talk about what had happened. We can't actually. It'll either break me into tears or put you into a very long silence.
I never really write anything about it. I never really expressed what I felt. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I'll cry in my sleep; and some other times, I'll swallow it all. What I felt, what I should said, I'll swallow it all. That's the best for me, that's the best for you, that's the best for mak, that's the best for all.
I said little. I express none. The last time we ever met, I wipe off my tears before it fell on your shoulder. I hold your hands dear, because I promised that would be the last time I would ever hold it. I hugged you close, because I don't want to talk to you anymore.You sang to me for the last time, I would never ask anyone to sing to me anymore. And I stared at you when you walk away, because I don't want to ever see or meet you again.
You don't know how hard it was. To be blamed for what I didn't do. To be accused of doing things which caused disgrace to my family and I. Which silently hurt mak's feeling. I was humiliated by what she said. Never in my life I've been so embarrassed like that by the person who knew so little, yet said so many things about me.
When in a relationship, the third person speaks the most about what should happen, what went wrong, addressing herself as the victim, wanting people to feel sympathy for her, the best I did was sitting in my room and cry, because I don't find what I felt worth debating. What SHOULD happen has nothing to do with her. What HAD happened is everything caused. If she thinks she's right, she wouldn't have to explain, the more she explains about her condition, the more she would say false things about me when the only thing she knew about me is my name. All false things has been said, as if I had no eyes and ears to see and listen. She doesn't know how much she had made me cry. No matter how much I care about you, no matter how much I had loved you, I'll back off. Not that I don't love. It's because, if this is love, it would never taunt me. It would never caused so much pain. It would never made me this hurt.
Sometimes, I took a peep into your life. Just to see how good you're doing. Sometimes, I forget how it feels to sit beside you. I forgot how you smile and I forgot your voice. You have become a distant face to me.
If you're reading this, I want you to know, the last time I cried on the phone asking you to read what she said about me, was the time I gave up on you.
