Paint you wings


To you,

Hi. It’s been a long while since the last time I saw you. But I could still perfectly remember the last look in your eyes when you told me we should bid our goodbyes. You have this rude habit of walking out whenever the situation doesn’t impress you, and I have developed this fear of seeing you turn your back. Oh, how I’d run real fast and pull your hand because I hate to see you leaving. I often close my eyes when you slowly move farther and farther away. But on the day you let me go, I kept them open as I try to memorize your face, thinking that it could be the last. And it had been.

I tried to hold you, but I broke myself when I did. You pushed me away because you don’t want me to love you recklessly. You feared showing your privy messes. But I have always embraced and loved your ugly portions. I would even reproduce myself to hold your thousand, broken pieces. And just so you know, none of your imperfections had made me love you any lesser. None so far, and none ever will, can measure to the beauty of your flaws.

You’re a sea of mystery. And I must admit that there were times when I’m not sure how I would surround you with love, because your walls are too high. Your heart was a fortress. But I’ve always been a soldier, prepared for battle. And you’re the kind of war as to where I would never want to fall back.

You’re definitely not the nicest person I’ve ever met. But you’re the most beautiful disaster I’ve ever been into. And I haven’t regretted loving you. Never will I ever.

I know that if you’ll hear me say these things to you, you would cover your face just like what you usually do when you witness me confess my sweet sentiments. Or maybe you would roll your eyes, and tell me to shut up. But then, you would turn your back and pretend that you’re mad, just so you could hide away your indocile chuckle. I miss how you would harshly put yourself back together and halt your lips from smiling when it starts to feel like bliss. And I would tease you all the more, just so I could hear your laughter—my lullaby forever.

I miss the way your laugh flatters my stomach. I miss how you would snort at my remarks, and how you won’t really have to try hard to win at your comebacks. You would always put up some nonsensical arguments, and I’d just laugh at your adamance. You never quit fights, you champion them.

I’ve always been a fan of your courage, and a believer, despite your apparent weakness. You cry at the lightest of offenses, not only because you were too sensitive, but also because you’re humble enough to realize that they were true. You hate being proved wrong, but you gladly welcome discipline. You embrace changes when they happen, because you’ve always been a lucid thinker. You’re a beautiful soul caught up in an ugly world.

You are the words in every poem I create; the lyrics in every song I make; the thought that fills my head and the piece I will never forget. You’re all that I couldn’t picture being without. And I miss you.

I miss the silly expression on your face when you’re holding your laughter. How you would snort after our endless bickers, and how you would pull that silly grin of yours to annoy me even more. I miss how you would sweet-talk me whenever I’m having a bad day. How you would whisper sweet nothings into my ears to make me feel better. I miss how you would try to parrot the words I say when I’ve gone demented. I miss how your nudges feel on my arms. I miss the scratches I get whenever your giggle gets the best out of you. I miss how you would playfully imitate my face out of the nothingness. I miss how you would try to lure me with your charms, even though we both know that you don’t really have to, because you’re already naturally charming.

Your random weirdness, and clever remarks had me downright swooned. You don’t even have to try so hard to impress me. You always had your own knack of sweeping me off my feet. I love the way you make me fall into your trap. I love the spell you unwittingly bestow upon me.

I have pictured you whole. I can still remember your every fibre. How could I even forget about that, anyway? I’ve spent half of my life gazing upon your beauty that never had the slightest possibility to fade regardless.

I really miss you. I miss your serenity. I miss your stillness that lingers through my soul. I miss the war in my heart whenever I taste the calmness of your presence.

I miss how you stutter when you’re flattered. I miss how your eyes widen when you’re shocked. The way your mouth gapes when you’re overwhelmed. I miss how you would sheepishly push back your hair behind your ears when you’re blushing. I miss how you would slowly thrust your lips to hide away your grins. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, so you would know how much you’re changing me.

You’re so strong yet so fragile at the same time. And your vulnerability made me want to defend you even more. I miss wiping the tears in your eyes after you’ve cried over your favourite book character. I miss being your ‘I can’t sleep. I cried so hard. I hate John Green’ late morning text. I miss how you would demand for my lamest joke, for you to get through with your major, fictional heartache.

I have too much of you all over me.

I’ve tried to convince myself that you aren’t over me just yet, but each time I put that in my head, I die in the middle of it. “You can’t forget about me just like that,” I thought. But my heart is a dirty liar, because maybe you already had. And I don’t want to accept that.

I thought we’re the kind of ship that no one can sink. But maybe we were never. I stay afloat on the water, an ocean curse.

I guess, it would be the most little of things which will remind me of how vulnerable I am with the pain.

The music on my phone will always make me remember of the times we’ve shared during those short rides going home. I’ll definitely miss the weight of your head on my shoulder; the smell of your hair that resonates through my soul, and the way you would easily fall into a deep sleep because you got tired babbling for hours. I always watch you slowly drift away to your own kind of Neverland. And maybe you never had the slightest idea of how much I had to battle the urge to hold you because I don’t want to scare you with my touch.

Maybe the thought of you will always hurt me. And I guess I will never get use to the pain. Your remnants will always be here, and the scar you left will always remind me that I’ve been burned once. I don’t know if I could ever be whole again after that.

But no matter how much I try to rewind and undo what’s done, I could no longer bring the old us back. I would have to live with the bitter truth that there’s no longer part of you that I can call mine.

Maybe I have to let go. I’m gonna have to. It might be for the best. And even though everything still hurts, and all that I can see is but a blur, I’m gonna get back on my knees and smile, like what you’ve always wanted me to do.

I’m finally saying goodbye to the forever that we’ve lost, and we can never have back, I suppose. I’m giving you a gift—the best I could ever give you. I call it freedom. Freedom from the hurting and freedom from everything that’s holding you down. I may have been broken, but I was never mad. I would never try to deny the fact that I’ve been hurt, but I have already forgiven you for the pain you’ve caused me. You don’t have to be guilty about anything.

Don’t worry about me, I will be okay. I’m not pretty sure when, but I know I will be.

Maybe, just maybe, I might as well paint you wings, just like what you did.



PS: I swear, I’ll never write anything about you anymore.


3 thoughts on “Paint you wings

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