I have to go.
A phrase I’ve been telling myself. Either to convince me or to remind me that I should. That I should let these wild fantasies and broken dreams go and start somewhere with someone else. That I have to forget our plans for the future and the sunsets that we should catch. That I have to  bury the memories filled with faint smiles and laughters. And those moments that I prayed would never end. 
It wasn’t healthy for us anymore. Least for the things we value most. What we had was too toxic for our bodies and poison to our hearts. And so we departed ways.
—————————————————————————–Weeks after we found each other again. With the same belief we shared and better understanding of our circumstances. Yet we are still willing to play the game. To see which one of us is going to get burned by the flame of our insanity. We relived those days how we felt when we watch each other talk, and smile in each other’s laughter. We tried to remember the imprint of our scents, hoping they could bear the same effect like smoke from that amphethamine we thought we’ve shared. We are living those days when we were dead just to find if the present still makes sense.
We departed with the same short amount of euphoria we hoped we’d had. With the memories of the touch we gave in each other’s skin and our hands that tangled with one another, and hugs that we thought we could no longer make. So long were the days of our summer madness. And the kiss in the lips that we no longer did.

Hello Rain. I’ve missed you.


They say every summer has a story. Mine started earlier than expected. And ended sooner than I wanted it to be.

I loved how the circumstances had led us to where we are right now. We played fire despite knowing how it would burn us if we don’t get our shit together. How we gamble with time as we end our days watching lovely sunsets sealed with a romantic kiss. We savoured those moments holding each other’s hands and wrapped our bodies with each other as we escaped the despair that we are both trying to forget. Everything was perfect.

Except that we are not in a relationship.

For you are shackled with your emotions. I am binded by my choice. And as far as we wanted to push this through, we know we cannot. So we’ve waited for each other hoping that one of us would eventually choose to break towards freedom to be together. So we enjoy days and collect memories as we did. It was a good plan.

Except that none of us breakfree.

So we play this push and pull of emotions. To know who would fall deeper to make the first move. And the competitive nature within us created a vortex that pulled us both deeper into the darkness, uncertainty and realization that if we continue, we would end up getting hurt. We knew that it was time to let go.

Except that we never did.

We may not have violated each other’s body, but we’ve been fucking each other’s feelings ever since. And it felt good. Better than what I usually did with my fuckbuddies but more painful than my failed romances. And I have let this summer fling consumed me, contaminated me and disrupted my senses on how I see things. Of what is right and what felt good. And as we slowly drifting apart, I am starting to remember what we had that was almost like summer.

Warm, blinding, sweaty and wasn’t really meant to last.


Psychology tells us that our actions are product of adaptation and protection of our ego. We behave in a way based on what we experienced in the past and how the latter mold us to survive and cope up with the stressors we are living in the present.

Now based on this generalization, one could say that the way we act in terms of love could be a product of the mistakes and lessons we had in our previous relationships. That inability to apply previous learning or modify unnecessary behaviors would mean failure to thrive. And being able to identify and modify such actions could increase the chance of success in the aspect of love and relationships.

I have learned in the past that the foundation of any good relationship is not love but trust. The stronger the latter is, the more the relationship could bear any storm and the more the relationship can stand through any obstacles faced along the way. Love is good; it defies all odds, but the pain caused by mistrust can create a scar on a humans’ fragile ego resulting to inability to perform what is required to make a relationship work. Humans tend to turn their backs from honesty and truth fearing that it could hurt them but in reality, it hurts more when you realize that your version of truth is different from what really it is. 

You cannot love if you cannot trust. You trust other person that he/she wouldn’t hurt you after you’ve given most of your self. You trust that at the end of the day, you still deserve the same kind of honesty that you’ve given. That you could sleep well and wake up at the feeling of being complete despite giving a part of you that you know could break. And living each day with the euphoric thoughts that there is someone you could rely and depend yourself on without prejudice and misjudgment after you’ve open yourself up with so much honesty.

 You can no longer love if you can no longer trust. If you forced yourself to go on with broken trust, then you’ll find each night before going to sleep unbearable. And you’d wake up with a hollow feeling within that is bigger than the night before. You’d feel the emptiness and death of something that didn’t even lived. You’re consumed with uncertainty each day and despite being surrounded by people, you’d feel more alone than before in a sea of superficial strangers who were trying grasp something that is already broken and hollow inside you. And you’d ask yourself what haven’t you learned in the past that lead you to the same lifeless feeling you have now.

Trust me. I know that feeling.


I wasn’t sure what you needed. But I am sure on what you deserve. Although it was easier for me to say to leave your shitty lover who doesn’t give a fuck with your worth. And it felt like I’m obliged to save you from your misery. To help you see this world better. That the world we live in isn’t that cruel. That there are people who will love you no matter what despite of your nothingness. See I didn’t came to you to love me. I came to you to make you realize you are worth loving.

Those days I have given you things that I should’ve given to someone. Yet I am allured with your pain and sadness. Misery really do loves company.  And I wanted to take that all away. Those sinful yet happy days flew fast. And I was half hearted complaining for those days spent doing things against the bounds of commitment. But it left us, at least me,  wanting for more. Until you declared your love to me.

You see, I replied in a way not to invalidate your feelings, but to put you some sense that yes it was love but not the romantic kind. For there is still someone occupying the space in your heart. And maybe I just made you feel something that your lover never made you feel and hence the feeling of infatuation. I just assured you that what every happens, you’ve got a friend in me. And I wanted to be the closest and the best that you’ll have.

I tried to maintain the safe distance. For you not to fall deeper for me but me still close if you break down and fall. And now we are here. Barely talking strangers yet with memories deep and engraved to our aching hearts. But I can’t blame you if you feel to do such. I wanted you to free the space in your heart that makes it heavy. But I didn’t wanted you to feel empty afterwards. I guess that’s impossible especially if I can’t even fill that emptiness within knowing I am hollow myself.

After all, it’s the space that I wanted you to have and now you’re seeking for it on your own. Who am I to stop you? I just get attached to easily and I’m still working on that being left behind so it pains me to see what we have become.


So, there goes the memories of my summer madness.

Gone with the thin blow of the wind.

Let me burn in the heat of the mighty sun.

Hoping that the winter in my heart would end. 


As I write this post, I am waiting for the clock to strike the half mark of the hour as this would mean freedom from the ill-binded walls of my workplace. And I am catering another low points of depression which surprisingly marked itself palpable despite of daylight.

I found myself lingering in your wall, reading posts and looking at your photos. So much for suicide. For I have remembered immediately what I had and lost, and all those that I’ve tried to forget just to survive hours without you. But it only took a single standing photo of you to bring back the pain and the emptiness I was trying to forget.

You’ve been around, and so many things have happened. I envy the circumstances you’ve managed through and how you’ve change and kept on changing. As if nothing’s holding you back. And here I am puzzling my way out of the maze I call life. As you try to comprehend whether there’s more to this maze yet doing incredibly well in finding your path, here I am lost in thought, moving in circles.

I never stopped there. I continued reading your posts one by one. And I remember your voice. Its tone and tempo. I remember your lips as you unnecessarily smile between words as you talk. And reading these exquisitely crafted phrases seemed that I am listening to you. And I remember how complex and how beautiful your mind is. How can you blame me for falling for you if you could easily take my breath away by mere expression of your thoughts. And you express it in a way that leaves me in awe. But there’s nothing I could do anymore. But to still admire you like before. As I’ve been admiring you ever since.

And eventhough you’ve shut me out, you’re still the kind of pain I would rather kept on having.


In an introvert’s view, solitude is different from isolation.

Solitude is self imposed. When you rather be by yourself when social connection exhausts you. When everything seemed so turbulent and you feel helpless and naked and weak that you try to disconnect from things and people around you. Solitude is when you find relief with the sound of nature and music. When you find comfort from the wind blowing in your skin and the silence that they speak. Solitude is when you start to rebuild yourself, and be able to put your pieces back together. It is the time when you heal and the best time to mend your own wounds. During these times of solitude that you remember your inner self and your qualities that you find admirable but you’ve slowly forgotten. It is the time where you remember your importance and redeem your self value. So that when the time comes, you are once again ready to reconnect with people.

Isolation on the other hand is different. It is imposed upon you by the society and by the social environment you are living in. It is when you try so hard to connect despite of the difficulty of opening up and showing a part of you, but they refuse to. That they rather not have you nor reject you to be a part of something. Isolation is when you find yourself accepting and bearing the loneliness caused by disconnection and social neglect. It was like you are drowning and asking for help, yet those who’ve seen you dying have rather let you drown and sink into the darkness.

But at the end of the day, it would still be your call on how you would see things and what perspective you would rather look at. That is to see isolation as a chance for solitude, and see solitude as an answer to isolation.


I remember you when I am tired. During the hours before I sleep. I remember you when I’m drunk or high. I remember you when I start to forget myself. 

You’ve never visited my thoughts in daylight. When I’m busy doing what I had to do with work. When I am preoccupied with the things that humans had to do to find meaning in existence.  But when the sun goes down, and the opium in the air poisons my night, I see you standing there in front of me. Looking at me with apathy and indifference as I drown myself with vodka and Prozac. 

I wonder if everything we’ve had had been easily forgotten. I get it, that you think it was just nothing, that we had to move on and life goes on.  and that’s what pains me the most. That we are forgettable. And I am forgettable. 

So maybe that’s the reason why I remember you, like right now. Not only you are the reason,  but you are also the embodiment of my pain. That when I start to loose myself, drift off, forget; I remember you. The same way on how you’ve forgotten me.