Everything I Couldn’t Say

And I remember thinking, “are we out of the woods yet?”

In weddings, there would always be that dreaded part where the preacher would ask “speak now or forever hold your peace.” It’s funny how we also, somehow, encounter the same type of scenario every day. We are always conflicted whether we should speak out and tell someone what we truly feel thinking that it would not change a thing or just forever hold our silence.

I am writing again. I am writing because that’s the only thing where and what I am good at. Writing to me is therapeutic – it heals, it mends a broken soul, it clears a polluted mind and it sobers an inebriated heart. It has always given me the freedom to express what I can’t, given me the opportunity to speak out the silence I kept. I need not a preacher to ask me to speak now or forever hold my peace.

The idea of losing you is worse than losing you in reality. It is a concept that would take all of me to grasp. But we learned this from a very young age, we were told that we are going to gain friends almost as frequently as we are to lose them. And while the debate whether we chose to stay or leave would always interests me to observe, it will always leave a question of rationality and if it makes sense to watch someone significant to just suddenly puff off from your life. To witness the absence of instant messages and phone calls in the middle of night, to feel the sudden indifference, and to be slapped with the emptiness of a once happy bond. All these leave with no question, friendship break-up is just as worst as any other break-ups in the world.

Throughout the course of my young-adult life, I don’t think anyone has ever helped me pulled the strings together more than you did. For one, you taught me the goings and comings of the work we do. You educated me about surviving life and you took me to places I’ve never been to while just sitting on lunch together. You held me high when I felt so low, you showed me things my childhood self never saw and you acquainted me with things I know I’ll never apologize for. You walked the golden path to Oz with me and would leave me wanting for more.

But you see, that’s the saddest fear neither you nor I ever saw coming. You never taught me to explore this world alone. You never taught me to walk alone, to enjoy the company of solitude and its acquaintances. You did not teach me to sing the notes of the solo part, you never taught me how to put the pieces together; where does this puzzle piece fits? You never taught me these things and neither did the books I’ve read before. This is a total foreign concept in this world we both once explored. We built it up together only to watch it crumble alone.

Now I feel so alone and lost and mad and angry and sad and conflicted and happy at the same time. I wanted to ask you to come back but I can’t. I tried telling you I needed you but all it ever did was lead us somewhere far off, lost in translation. And I somehow rebelled and got lost in the woods. And as I went deeper into it, I didn’t know that you went looking for me. But instead of finding me, you just got lost yourself, scratched yourself, and dirtied yourself. You got chased off by the wolves of my unbecoming and you got tired. You got tired and decided to stop looking. You went out of the woods…without me.

I am still lost in the woods. I am still with the wolves of my unbecoming. I am still in the dark. And there is a part of me that doesn’t want to get out and I don’t know how dominant that part can be. But I want you to know that I am still that friend you once knew. I just don’t know how to be that friend again. I am lost and afraid and scared. And something’s telling me that I can’t fix this anymore. Something’s telling me that all I have to do is to stay away because every time we try to fix things, I would always find a way to mess things up again. The worse is, I fear that we say can’t say hello again without risking another goodbye.



8 thoughts on “Everything I Couldn’t Say

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