c.a.

all things women and poetry | brown ajah | any pronouns | this is where i get lost

[aird-damodred]

i’m afraid of stopping and forgetting. i’m afraid of the day one of us, or both of us, just stops. we got our chance, darling. and we didn’t get to keep it. i know it’s complicated but i wish it wasn’t. i wish i did all the right things and so did you and i wish we got a fairytale ending.

one by one, the sacred things we had were lost. the last of it is gone now too. and i don’t know where that leaves us. at one point do we just stop?

i have loved you since you were 19 and i was 20. it’s been almost 7 years. and the back of my eyes feel hot with unshed tears. i fucked up. i got the girl and i fucked up. somehow, i got the girl i dreamed of and i fucked up.

the other day i was thinking of a way to honor what we had. i know you’re sick of talking about us and you’ve thrown my ring against the wall and it’s probably gathering dust under your bed and i know you plan to throw it away. but i just thought. i want to honor us. somehow.

we had such a beautiful love. it’s all lost in the ugliness now. but it was so beautiful back then. and i miss you. i miss the girl who stayed up all night making me paper flowers. but she’s dead. and the girl that planned out an entire advent calendar for you is also dead. they’re dead, baby. and i’m mourning them. no one got to see them. it hurts to think that people just think of us as ugly. i loved you so much.

i’m afraid, darling girl. i’m afraid we’re moving forward. and we have to leave all of this behind. i’m afraid. i don’t want to forget. i’m gripping the last page of this chapter in my life so hard i might tear it. i’m afraid.

i have so so many hurts and so do you. i just wish we got to be beautiful for a little longer. we loved each other so much back then.

but we’re not getting back together. and we’re moving forward. and as you said, it’ll be natural — we’ll just drift apart. and i see it. i’m terrified because i see it. and i’m writing this a bit past midnight on a schoolnight because i want to remember as much as i can. i don’t want to forget you or us or the love we had.

i wanted to marry you too. i wanted it all — the house, the kids, the cats, the vacations. the life. the garden we’d have as old women and the slow walks to church. the quiet life we thought we’d have.

i wish we could have had a quiet life. but we’re dreamers, aren’t we. that’s why everything always seems possible when i’m with you. everything is within my reach when you’re by my side. you’re my partner. we work well together. we have dreams and ambitions and maybe we’ll be in each other’s lives.

but i wanted you to be my wife. i wanted to spend the rest of my christmases with you. i wanted to have a family with you. my love, i wanted to be buried with you.

and maybe. maybe in a parallel universe we get to have that. maybe in a parallel universe, i never fight with you that fateful day in march. maybe in a parallel universe, you never hit me. maybe in a parallel universe, i never learn to hit you back. maybe in a parallel universe, i never say yes to that spin the bottle game. maybe.

i have so much love for you. and i want to write this while i can still say that. i remain in awe of you, my darling. you are still the smartest person i know. i will admire you until i die. you can accomplish anything you set your mind to.

i love you. i hope you know.

[aird-damodred]

a list of things that remind me of you

“damn”

breakfast before any meal, even at some random point in the afternoon

placing empty cups in the freezer

dalgona coffee

milk

page 28

fishnets

red lipstick

parallel universes

lorde

clubbing

bgc / makati

hermione granger; dramione

pjo > hp

blue

coffee with A LOT of sugar

tarot readings

empty lots

aliens

6AM

sunrise

did you think of that in japanese or tagalog

japanese curry

sushi

red flags

hypothetical dates

the bad boy trope

pranks

baguio beans

smoke with me?

soulmates

truth or dare

just kiss me damn

bunnies

hot chocolate

bleach

scented candles

nachos

half asleep

cat gifs

18th floor

yeet

bucket lists

jager

pineapple mojitos

antique shops

zines

sucking fingers

hickeys

siomai

this is a safe space for your narcissism

YA novels

horror stories / horror films

boobies

Japan

potatoes

rootbeer

unli coffee

donuts

psychological horror

The Pretty Reckless

vivid dreams

the afterlife / reincarnation

past lives

telepathy

do you want me to resist? no.

surreal nights

[aird-damodred]

• patricia

• rabbits

• esoterica

• palmistry

• oracle

• “ulol”

[aird-damodred]

and after more than half a decade…

• violet flowers

• red skirt

• love story by taylor swift

• cappuccinos

• miffy

• airbnbs

• bathtubs

• elyu

• singapore

• restitution

• texas roadhouse

• green

• journaling

• makati

• the concept of a coffee

• pasta with basil

• wearing clothes inside out

• gedli

• tiny tops

• grand hyatt

• champagne

• macarons

• salmon

• tetsuo’s karaage

• amaretto sours

• wine

• tomato soup

• garage music

• techno

• mood lighting

• sweet treats

• mang juan

• carrot

• chai

• darling

• rollercoasters

• dumplings

[aird-damodred]

i can’t bear it

[aird-damodred]

i can be the one to go.

[aird-damodred]

six years later and i’m still sitting in the same bathroom, smoking the same cigarettes, trying to drown out the same sort of despair that only comes of loving you and losing you.

and i ask myself if i haven’t learned my lesson. if i didn’t make a promise to myself never to hurt like this again.

but it’s all the same. you’ve shut me out and there’s someone else. and maybe it’s not exactly the same because last time it was the man you were supposed to marry and now it’s just your friend you fool around with. but the hurt is the same. i’m the same. i’m still on the bathroom floor unable to cry but hurting.

it’s always been you. it has never hurt as bad as when it’s you. and i don’t know why i fell in love with you, i don’t know why you, of all people, do i love this much.

and maybe it’s not the same but it’s familiar and i’m afraid to embark on it again. because this time i know what it looks like and this time we’ve made plans for our future and this time we have something we can’t just let go of.

but you’re still angry at me for reasons i still cannot fully understand. and i know you’ve explained. i know you’ve talked about it. i know you just think i don’t understand.

but last night you asked me to tell you a story so you could sleep. and i know we’ve done that before but all i could think of was him offering to tell you a bedtime story and all i could feel was that you wanted him. but you got angry. and you didn’t have it in you to hold me through it. i wish you did. because until my dreams you were telling me you wanted him. but you would’ve been angry again if i asked for reassurances in the morning. so i didn’t ask. i held you and i apologized even after i told myself i wouldn’t.

there is nothing left of me. there is nothing that feels good. it’s just hurt these days. and your arbitrary decisions on when to see me and when not to. when to reply to me and when not to. and through it all — i say yes every time.

am i a fool? at what point does it stop? at what point do i know if you’ll ever love me again?

you say you’re afraid so you need to always have the openness of seeing other people. you say it’s because of me. but i can’t believe you because i’ve never wanted to see other people. and you’re the one in this messed up situation. and i know you’ll hate me one day when i ask you to stop seeing him. and you’ll say it’s your friend. that you can’t just do that.

because in all this time, you haven’t said no to him yet. in all this time you’ve always given in. and you’re talking right now. but i know that he’ll stay in your life. he’ll keep being important. you’ll keep choosing to see him because he needs you.

and i suppose this is the part where i need to look for people who would choose to see me because now i need them too, because i’m crying over you, because i’m hurting, because i cannot understand.

because i’m afraid of when you start loving him. because i’m afraid of when it’s no longer something you can be so sure you aren’t going to do. and what do we do when that happens? do i show you this? do i show you this someday and tell you i called it?

i haven’t been wrong yet my darling. and i’m afraid.

[aird-damodred]

i hope we make it

[aird-damodred]

still

[aird-damodred]

will i lose you every time?

[aird-damodred]

i wish so so many people dead.

i wish each and every person who has ever hurt you or tried to take advantage of you a slow painful death. there is a deep anger i cannot articulate, i cannot let go of, i cannot stop. i loved you—perhaps unconsciously—on those days they treated you badly, unjustly, cruelly. and i cannot begin to make peace with the fact it was happening—just happening—when i could have just been loving you instead.

and it’s ridiculous. i could never have protected you from all of it. but i wish i could have and i wish i did—or at least someone, anyone—i wish someone did. and i understand some tragedies needed to happen but did they really??? i can’t make peace with it. i can’t lift it up. i can’t stop wishing so so many people dead.

[nervouspearl]

[stinky-greasy-rat]

SOBBING

[aird-damodred]

within the silences i am reminded of exactly what i have and i am in utter disbelief—did the universe fold over at some point and give me a chance with you, for real this time? do you have any idea how you consume me in the simplest manner—absolutely?

[aird-damodred]

i love her desperately

[aird-damodred]

to know you would suffice

[aird-damodred]

we meet in the small hours through 280-character thoughts and vague interactions which hearken to a similar desperation, almost a kinship

[aird-damodred]

i wonder if this was born out of a desperation to feel something, to desire, to yearn, to anticipate? in a way, i suppose, it might have worked. my head is full to bursting with thoughts of (do i speak to you, do i speak of you?) her. there is no reason to speak to her. barely an image, barely an idea when you’ve barely spoken. but i have nothing else and this. this makes me feel alive and giddy and something…something almost akin to hopeful—which is preposterous. but i do come out the other end, always, always so driven. driven by the utter ridiculousness of it all. driven by the curiosity of how far i can push. driven by a desperate desire to feel anything but grief and loneliness. and i suppose it cannot be something i might have, cannot be something i might act on. cannot be something that can be. so i am here. pining. wondering. imagining. with butterflies in my stomach as though i was sixteen again. drawing odd parallels. making a tiny part of me hope for the most impossible thing. on the verge of probably, possibly, plausibly writing poetry about it. but always just there. on the precipice of possibility with nothing and no one to push me over the edge. and this height from which i stand, this isolated peak provides a safety that chance never could.

[flo-n-flon]

I know what it is to feel you deserve something different than what this life gives you. To wonder why you couldn't just stay home, love the people you love, grow old with them, protect them, support them.