But You’re Not

You’re scared. You’re hurt. You laugh without even feeling it. You want to tell the world. But every time you try to, they tell you you’re okay. But you’re not and it hurts.

You smile. You bring light. You keep going. You want them to take notice. You’re just tired, they say. But you’re not and you feel it.

The sadness will go away, or so you thought. How could you cry at night, when you know you could be happy even at the thought of the smallest things. But now you’re not and you know where it’s leading to.

You want to run away, and drop it all off. But how could you, when you still dream of things and of love. You think there is hope. You are just confused, they say. But you’re not and it’s taking too long.

Maybe you could tell somebody. But when you look, everyone else is fighting their own battles. You try to stay quiet. You must be lucky, they say. But you’re not. How could they say that.

You close your eyes. The pain is still there. Everything seems more cloudy now. You are a strong person, they say. But you’re not and it’s getting scarier now.


To the Guy Who Kept Me Waiting

Wait for me, you said.

Sure, it was painful to see you leave. I couldn’t understand it. But somehow, those late-night talks that I didn’t mind losing sleep over, those warm smiles that kept those butterflies floating around inside me, and those dreams we shared together pushed me forward to hope in spite of the pain.

I always wondered how we had lost the connection we once had. How could it ever end? I was left waiting, stuck by my phone. Wondering why you didn’t always reply to my messages nor respond to my calls. I tried to console myself from your lack of response. I stood strong thinking maybe you just weren’t ready. That maybe you were just too scared of getting hurt. Or maybe you just needed time to sort through your priorities.

I tried hard to understand. I waited because you said so. And for me, that was enough.

Wait for me, you said.

I waited even though I was unsure if I could still call you mine. You kept pushing me away because you said you were confused. But I wasn’t. I was so sure of you that it already scared me.

I know that there are plenty more fish in the sea, but how could I when I already lived with the thought of spending the rest of my life with you.

There were even times I wished I could just move on. But because I loved you and you gave me reasons to stay, I stuck around.

Wait for me, you said.                                                                                  

I waited for you because I wanted to believe that you would come back, even though part of me knew that you wouldn’t.

But while I was proving the world how much you’re worth it, and that it’s worth it, you were proving otherwise.

I waited. I waited until time has passed and weeks became months. Months became years and years became silence.

Wait for me, you said. But how could I still wait for you when you weren’t even there?