Futile Escape

“I loved you.”

That was what I told you when faith seemed to have led me down the path which leads to now.First, face to face. Mine was wet with sorrow. Yours was dry with shock.

Then, side by side. Yours was stiff with surprise. Mine was trembling with sadness.

I don’t know why I suddenly said it like that. Maybe I was tired of holding it in. Maybe I wanted to put my heart out. Maybe I needed to say it to you. At least once, in this life of mine. Maybe I wanted to be seen. As more than a friend. Maybe I hoped that you’d say you like me. Or even liked me. Maybe… Just maybe… I said it that way because I wanted it that way. I wanted  the me-loving-you to be a thing of the past.

Or maybe, I wanted you to tell me to come back.

I wanted to move on. I thought maybe, just maybe, if you reject me, my heart would get a grip and start filling in the holes, dug deeper by my longing–holes that I thought I had already filled up a long time ago. At a time when I thought I can forget my feelings for you. When I thought the hole wasn’t that deep.

But I was wrong. It was already too deep.

And I have already fallen. Down, down, down into its depths with only small nooks and crannies to slow down my descent.

And then my feelings were at a standstill. I thought that somehow, I must have already pulled myself out.

Little did I know that I was still deep below the surface and was only standing on a ledge just big enough for me to prevent my self from going down any further.

But it was a perilous task, balancing my self on the edge. And there are no handholds above me, nor nooks nor crannies, to lift myself up from this dilemma.

And as I looked into your eyes through my tears, I realized that I just said one big lie.

It was wrong to tell you that I loved you.

Because I still do.

03/13/16 2:24 pm – 04/09/16 3:00 pm

Artwork by Justine Brooke Chua


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