As I lay in bed at 3.15am with an unanswered text from 9.37pm, my heart throbbed with ache. Hot tears streamed into my pillow. I thought about how you used to rush down when things were shaky between us and how you would look really sad and wipe the tears off my face, telling me “Don’t cry habubu” I had even verbalised my worry to you — I worried that you would find my crying annoying next time. You had told me that you wouldn’t. When we called that night and I apologised so much for initiating the breakup, crying to take it back, more tears came when you told me impassively to “Stop crying”. Repeatedly, in that tone, such a stark contrast to how it was said before. It still hurts me today. I remember looking at myself in the video call, thinking, “my face has turned red from all the crying. It has turned red so quickly.” I remembered how the day you flew to australia, after you entered transit, I roamed around Tokyu hands and Naise in a daze, and on impulse, bought $60 worth of small gifts to send to you in staggered mails as reminders to tell you I miss you and that you’re not alone. It was the only thing left I could do. I remembered when you first went over & having not made any friends yet, you calling me to tell me you missed me on one of the nights. My heart had melted. And then I remembered the countless other nights, when I waited for all the “call you back later habubu”s that never came. My mind drifts to nights and hours and days like these — the past few weeks — where I have been just existing. To the time I had to tell my parents we were on a break, how my mum came in with dinner and I just sat on the chair crying in front of her as she portioned out some food. I remember my dad coming in to pass me a clean towel and told me to cry into that instead, grazing the back of his hand on my forehead of my tear-stained face. His touch made me cry even harder. And then my mind drifts to the time you told me “Priority is exam”. I really want to understand, I really do. But on nights like this, I just really want to be selfish. Selfish because it hurts. You really broke my heart. How can the priority be your exam when you messed up my life. If only you could see how heart broken I was, how much torture this month has been to me, how much, even now, I have been chasing, you wouldn’t find me selfish at all. Our happy memories are just so painful. And I don’t know why, on this particular night, all I can think of is the day we were on some roof top, trying to skip across puddles and lifting our calfs at exaggerated angles, imitating the scene where joker did his happy, troubled dance. Except that we were happy, and not troubled as we are now.
blakekathryn
gummygunk
romaincrisis
jimmyeatworldofficial
stormborns
turnnoffyourmind
