The Price

I remember scrolling through my contacts searching for your name. I remember rehearsing every line I’d type in before I hit send so as not to freak you out with my weirdo tendencies. I remember sending you a lengthy text message about how I adored your coming and how I wish to see more of who you are (and who we could be) by 2013. I remember composing “I Can See It In You” for you. I remember your reply via facebook and how thrilled I was rereading every single line that was meant for me. I remember that feeling. I remember you. I remember how happy we both were back when we were at the prime of our so called “relationship” (if it’s even legal to call it that). I remember loving you.

Isn’t it funny? How is it possible to have a completely altered reality in a span of just one year? How is it possible that last year, you were my Christmas love, and now, I am not even expecting a Christmas greeting from you? How last year’s feelings, all fuzzy and warm, turn in to something as cold as this season is?  How is it that this year, you’re no longer a part of me?

I don’t want to go overly dramatic on this one for what we had was fleeting. It was so fast, so rushed, that before I even had the chance to get a hold of what was happening, you were already gone. The period was already affixed and it frustrated me, for as your co-author, I wasn’t briefed about the sudden demise of what was burning in between the two of us.

It’s Christmas again, but I guess this year will be an alien to the both of us. The passion that was conceived through the cracks of our hollow souls died a long time ago that we’ve turned in to strangers. The  warmth that coated our words towards each other back then no longer exists. It all happened so fast we barely had the time to grab our coats and place it on to our bodies for synthetic warmth. It was so rushed that before I knew it, I was already buried underneath upon layers and layers of solid and thick ice.

How can something so beautiful cease to exist so hastily?

It’s sweater weather again but this year will cost me more. I have to stock my closet with winter clothes and boots for this year, I will no longer be inside your arms. I will have to buy a shovel to dig up and keep my porch free from ice. For this year will be lonely; I need to be open for strangers who are actually friends in disguise. I am no longer crying for I have lost the compassion I once had for you. I am not even expecting for a greeting or two.

I just want you to know that this Christmas, I’ll be doing just fine without you. I wish you’d be in the same position as I am and that you’d be happy too.

I know that you can’t read this but I just want to say

“Merry Christmas honey, and this is the price we  have to pay.”


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