Not Yet

I still get anxious every time I hear that same old ring tone.

I can still see the flashes of their names, one after the other– Dj, Julia, Kaye, Rose, Khaye, Kris…

And many others who came before me, who came with me and those who came after me.

I can still remember how you smile every time you get a text from them as I watched you from the other side of the room pretending that I couldn’t see.

You made me feel so invisible.

You made me feel as if I don’t need any form of validation.

And for a while, I really thought that the problem was with me.

That maybe I’m being too rigid– that maybe I’m being too tensed.

For a while, I defended you to all of my friends. I always tell them that maybe it’s because you’ve been so used to getting attention from different people that you simply can’t quit the habit just like that.

I would justify your actions as signs of recurring loneliness and for awhile, that has been my salvation.

I believed that you will learn to see me and my worth. That you will someday realise how your actions hurt me.

I accepted that maybe your lack of interest towards my past every time I bring it up equates to you being a little too tired for chit chat that time, and the several other times, that I tried to bring it all up.

I taught myself to keep my mess inside, because this is it– you are it!
You are the one and I can’t mess it all up.

I fashioned myself in a way that I know won’t allow my inner mess to spill over just because I know that you don’t like boisterous girls. You don’t like girls who drink too much. You don’t like girls who laugh too loud. You don’t like girls who break in to mini dances in random circumstances. You don’t like girls who contradict you. You don’t like girls who can’t pay for the bill. You don’t like girls who tell you that they are loved in the office. You don’t like girls who put too much cream in their coffee. You don’t like girls who tell you nerdy random at 7 am. You don’t like girls who tell you that they love you at 6 in the morning. You don’t like girls who post your photos online. You don’t like girls who are angry. You don’t like girls who are crying because you hurt them. You don’t like me.

But it wasn’t clear to me.

Because I can be the perfect one for you because to me you are the most perfect being I’ve ever laid my eyes on and so I stopped drinking too much. I stopped laughing too loud. I stopped dancing. I stopped contradicting you. I always pay the bill. I stopped telling you about those who appreciate me. I stopped drinking coffee. I stopped telling you nerdy things at 7 am. I say I love you in between my teeth so that you won’t hear me saying anything. I stopped taking your photos. I stopped getting angry. I stopped telling you why I’m hurting. I am no longer myself.

And that has been my truth.

The lie I told myself every time I try to convince myself that maybe today you’d see me.

That maybe today you’d finally recognise the lengths I’d go for just to be next to you. Maybe you’d realise how difficult it was for me to watch you talk and smile to other women  while I am there, with you, looking at you, loving you with every bit of my heart.

And so now that I am beginning to get to know myself once more, I must tell you this.

I loved you beyond universes but with everything that I went through with you, I’m sorry but I can’t wish you well.

Not yet.

I’m sorry.

I can’t.

 

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