Remember the last time I wrote about you? I thought it would be the last. My friends were with me to back me up. I had all the support in the world. I was willing to move on with my life without you in it. But then, it only took one chat from you and everything began again.
You were like a tragic book that made me cry a little. I stopped reading you and stacked you in the bookshelf, never to touch again, because I just couldn’t go through the ending anymore. However my heart wanted to know how it’d feel like to progress in the story. So I went on and I did fairly enjoy the thrill. My guard was up, constantly waiting for the right time when you’re going to rip me apart again. It didn’t come so soon. I set a date when it should come. You decided it still wouldn’t — I was glad. And then one day you surprised me, without any prior notice, you crushed my heart and dropped it without hesitations.
I was floored. In fact, I lied awake up until 4 am in the morning deciding whether I should pop up some sleeping pills. I forced myself to sleep, told myself, “Fuck this, I’m too used to this.” But then it haunted me. I shouldn’t have gone through your Facebook profile at that point so I could have postponed the found-truth that you deleted me. I felt like I lost mainly because growing up, I always wanted to be the one leaving and not the other way around. You won the game and it did upset me horribly because I didn’t expect you’d be willing to play that dirty. I guess I wasn’t always right about people.
Two days before that we had the most fun of whatever relationship we had. I was ready to tell you my goodbye and I was okay about that. You promised me it wasn’t a goodbye yet, there would be one more. What I didn’t understand was that why did you have to remove me completely from your life? Sure I was aware I said something stupid in the day that followed but weren’t we clear about the fact that we’d still keep in touch no matter what?
It’s not in my discretion to tell what people they should do. And so be it. You opened the door and had your way out. I was ghosted. I didn’t know what it meant before until now. I’d still stick to the plan to use our experiences together in the book I’d write in the future. Unlike you, I’d fulfill my promise to cherish and remember the memories we shared. It was the closest thing I had in romance Azam. I wished I could have told you that.
I wasn’t the guy who went home crying with a broken heart anymore. Instead, I am the guy who grew a brave heart. The guy who can easily differentiate between what love is and what love is not. The guy who knows exactly how he should be treated and what his heart deserves. And most importantly, the guy who learns his best lesson in a painful way.
I guess I can start over now, wake up tomorrow and set my mind in a different perspective. The question about why I let you continue to be part of my life after the second meet-up is something I’ll try to find an answer to. But I’m trying to be okay now. Soon, I know I will totally be. There are so many better things that will come along in my way and you can’t be part of me by the time I’ll get to experience them. So it’s me saying goodbye after all.