Like an onion, I had layers.
And you peeled me away, one at a time.

One layer off.
You saw my favorites.
The food and drinks I crave for.
The wall paint I wanted for my room.
The perky dresses, nail polish, knee-high boots.
And the spot I always prefer to be- on the front seat.

One layer off.
You saw my hobbies.
The words I stitched together.
The stars that formed our zodiac sign.
The wallclimbing, badminton, volleyball.
And the guitar strings that strum our lullaby.

One layer off.
You saw my dreams.
The plane ticket to Paris.
The thrill of a bungee jump.
The candlelit dinner, fireworks, dancing fountain.
And the license as a medical physician.

One layer off.
You saw my strengths.
The smile behind the false judgements.
The tears I fought back with pride.
The temperance, confidence, adjustments.
And the self-love I have strongly magnified.

One layer off.
You saw my insecurities.
The missing dimple on my left cheek.
The pimples on my forehead.
The bitchface, fierce stare, strict walk.
And this prominently thin-but-tall body figure.

One layer off.
You saw my regrets.
The kisses I could have refused.
The friends I thought were true.
The false assumptions, unmet expectations.
And the trust I gave to the wrong person.

One layer off.
You saw my secrets.
The punches I had to take.
The bruises I covered with my sleeves.
The lies, frustrations, disappointments.
And the brokenness suppressed in my memory.

The last layer, off.
You saw through me.
The anxiousness escalating slowly.
The exposure feeling uneasy.
I felt stripped, explored, unguarded.
And in my nakedness - you had to choose:

To love or to leave me,
For who I really am.

Like a fool, with an unrecognized devotion,
I loved him deeply yet I wasn’t loved in return.
I got fed with all our irrational argumentation,
Often gave up, yet still had doubts if I’d end such relation.
Then I asked myself, shall I give him a chance?
Must I endure this unrequited love?

Hear thy mournful cries of trepidation and doubt,
“Why can’t I find the remnants of thy piteous heart?”
They say, better leave him and make a new start
But intense emotions of ambiguity would thwart.
Thus I tell myself, give him a second chance.
You’ll be happy soon; hold on though it’s an unrequited love.

Tears would then fall to somehow ease the sorrow
And try to veil the truth that thy heart cometh hollow.
But even if all tears’ dried up today ‘til tomorrow,
When all rains would halt, still, no rainbow will follow.
But I tell myself, wait for another chance.
That time maybe, he’ll learn, and it won’t be an unrequited love.

Years after, I still loved him amidst the endless plights.
He drained my soul; brought me to a black hole in life.
Thoughts that ‘I don’t deserve this’ amassed to greater heights
Then a string cut loose, I faced the sightless sight.
Now, I begged myself, none more of these chances.
Please, I plead, quit enduring this unrequited love!

Beneath a thousand twinkling stars in my windowpane,
Lies the most perfect replica of wishful thinking in suffering and pain---
My self with an unrequited love.

~Danessa Jutba~

I was black. You were white.
We fitted perfectly like a zebra’s skin.

I was low when you were high.
In finding ourselves, we took a great spin.

I was hot when you were cold.
I helped you have some warmth within.

And in helping you, I felt drained.

I had shrunken when you grew bold.
All because of the assuming sin.

It was January when I wished to have an adventure
Like climbing a mountain; just being one with nature
But you seemed disinterested. You didn't make plans with me.
You simply said, "Don't worry. Someday. Maybe."

On Feb fourteenth, I made some chocolate parfait
Hoping we can enjoy the love-is-in-the-air day.
But you wrote me, "There are some things you have to let go."
And I thought to myself, yes some things, but not you. No.

On March, there was a pile of school stuff to work on.
Everyone was so busy to even sing me a birthday song.
As I entered the room, you just smiled and said "Hi."
And that left me thinking you forgot that today is my...sigh

End of sem, 'twas posted. Yes, we passed the exam!
With tears of joy, I gave thanks for a job well done.
I so wanted to celebrate that joyous moment with you.
But you weren't there. Worse, there was no one to talk to.

It sounds heart-breaking to know how cold you treated me.
But wait, there's more- I'm not yet done telling this story.
There were things that didn't turn out as I wanted it to be.
What happened next sums up how you ruined it perfectly.

You didn't plan that trip with me 'cause you wanted a surprise.
One day in January, you brought me to nature's paradise.
Hours of climbing up the mountains, alas we have arrived.
And that 'someday' you told me then, is a dead word given life.

I flipped that letter on valentines, and read what's written next.
"...except lollipops. Everybody loves it", that's the following text.
You said I should let go of the things that made me bitter.
And that you'd never leave me, come worse, or even better.

On my birthday, I managed to say "Hello" but nothing more.
Then I saw your doodle greeting posted on my backdoor.
"Happy birthday dear", it says. That made my day brighter.
Turns out you've worked overtime on that since two nights prior!

You went home that night when the exam results were posted.
I wasn't in the mood to talk. I'd rather sleep on my bed.
Then you placed on the table, this fruit you brought from the city.
So that's why you were missing! You bought a delish gift for me!

Looking back, I can't complain on how sad I felt initially
'Cause when I felt so down, you never failed to uplift me.
And if being with you means my every plan will not happen,
Then I'd bravely take that risk and live along these lovely ruins.

Together, we wrote proses and poems,
carefully stroking each word - with pain.

Together, we listened to the same songs,
sharing how the lyrics pierced deep - with sadness.

Together, we loved other partners,
often argued with them; felt drained, dragged - with disappointment.

Together, we gazed at the stars and the moon above,
may better things happen, we pray - with hope.

Together, we told stories of our lives,
chipping away the wall between us - with trust.

Together, we magnified the connection,
conversing for hours and hours to pass - with control.

Together, we sought distractions,
side by side we fell into slumber - with comfort.

Together, we pulled ourselves up,
lightening the burden on our shoulders - with compassion.

Together, we flashbacked the tough years,
burying the unchangeable experiences - with acceptance.

Together, we reminisced our life-changing moments,
realizing how further we've gone from that - with growth.

Together we sang. Together we cried.
Together we peeled away the loneliness inside.

Together we laughed. Together we dreamt.
Together we felt comfortable dwelling on each other's head.

But there was one exception, as it is to every rule.
In almost everything, we were together, but when I fell, I was alone.

And alone I broke.

The perfect man is but ordinary,
He cries and laughs like all the rest.
He doesn't have the perfect body
yet the masks he wear are just the best.

He smiles even when he's unhappy
and treats every gal as a friend.
He carries every talk so cheerfully.
His personality is one you'll commend.

But there's one secret he's kept long
that only his girlfriend has known.
A dark trait embedded in his soul
for how deceitful this man has grown.

To this girl, he does a lot of lying
and he doesn't feel guilt or remorse.
He just loves to hear her crying.
His lies to her are such a curse.

He goes out at night to party
and the girl knows not where he goes.
She drops 20 calls, so worried
but he ignores her like she's a ghost.

Still, the perfect man is lucky
for his friends believe he is all-good.
In their eyes, he is mistake-free
and wouldn't do harm even if he could.

To a realization, the girl arrived,
and thought no perfect man exists.
For if there is, then a perfect lie
can make her broken when she believes.

"Hello, care to chat?"
We had no mutual friends.
Turn chat offline.

"So you like writing?"
You've read my About Me.
View his profile.

"How are you? Busy?"
You poked me.
I poked back.

"I just want us to be friends."
One pending friend request.
Confirmed.

"You have nice eyes."
He commented on a picture.
Like.

"Your recent status update,
have a problem?"
Sad smiley.

"You can tell me."
I confessed to you.
Post status: -feeling happy.

"Good morning pretty."
Long chat replies.
Heart sticker.

"I love you."
And I love you too.
Status: in a relationship.

"I'm sorry, I've been busy lately."
It's fine.
Status: It's complicated.

"I didn't mean to hurt you."
You should have thought about that.
Unfriend.

"Please forgive me."
Seen.

He was constant.
She was unpredictable.
He was rational.
She was emotional.

He was a dreamer.
She was a believer.
He was a talker.
She was a listener.

He was a critical thinker.
She was an avid reader.
He spoke in a bottomline manner.
She wrote in a metaphorical way.

He was a mechanic.
She was an artist.
He assembled guns.
She crafted poems.

He was a bike rider.
She was a composer.
He was skillful with his engines.
She was passionate with her songs.

He was an entertainer.
She was a public speaker.
He had tenacity.
She had authority.

He was firm.
She was flexible.
He was honest.
She was open.

He was a risk-taker.
She was adventurous.
He was a planner.
She was a goer.

He was happy-go-lucky.
She was often uneasy.
He was drink-and-be-merry.
She was live-life-and-be-happy.

Both responsible in their chosen field.
Both loud, but would sometimes prefer the solitary.
Both travellers, jokers, and crowd-pleasers.

Parallel, but not entirely the same.
Opposites, but not completely contradicting.
Complementary, but not dependent to each other.
Most importantly, loving, but not demanding.

He and She.
You and Me.

Your lips -dry,
Same as how our conversations went.
All lacking basis,
just another insensible argument.

Your skin -cold,
Is this why you seem quite indifferent?
The way you stare,
There's no more sense of excitement.

Your pulse -fast.
It pounds rapidly as though on a race.
Until we grew apart,
'Cause I can no longer keep your pace.

Your status -confused.
And the severe water loss caused lethargy.
Our prognosis?
Poor. For this story ends in tragedy.

I have never looked at someone and said to myself, "He's the one." At least, not until I met you.

It was scary. The thought dawned to me in an unprecedented manner. There were no precautions. But I remember sitting in a slightly crammed convenience store on a hot Thursday afternoon. My mood was a bit tipped over, what with the lack of sleep and the surge of patients at the Emergency Room the night prior. But I waited for you there. Because we both wanted to fill our stomachs with something it could churn on. And when you sat there in front of me, no my heart didn't skip a beat. Instead, even more frightening is that, I felt time slow down.

I can still remember clearly to this day how your eyes glowed as you watched the cars pass by from the window. And when you were about to meet my gaze, I pretended to be exhausted, so I threw myself across the table for a quick nap. There our elbows touched. And it was that moment that I felt anxious of your presence near me. Why am I afraid of you, I asked myself. I mean, I just met you.

But I was careless at that time. I had forgotten how affection towards another can bloom fast. I became easily comfortable, of talking to you, of being undeniably haggard, and of being grumpy. You allowed me some space in your heart, so I opened mine as well. For no definite reason or intent, I let my guard down.

Our conversation went smoothly for ten minutes now. I looked at my watch and saw you didn't have one, so I made a comment, that I get attracted to guys with a sleeky wristwatch. I recall now, I made a few more comments about your hair, your body, and even your uniform. But I was just throwing off my opinion for the sake of keeping the conversation going.

As we reached the fifteen-minute mark of being together for the first time, I did something that will probably haunt me for the rest of my life. Because without thought or hesitation, I held your face. Briefly. Just trying to remove a debris. Just looking straight at that debris, not thinking of the consequences of my little touchy gesture.

However...

Right after this moment, I felt a wave inside my chest. I was having palpitations, and not the pathological kind. I just felt my heart beat faster, and faster, until I knew for sure, that the feeling was how the novels called it --- love at first sight.

I thought to myself, "He's the one." It was the kind that came unexpectedly, that's why I hoped the feeling would beam bright. I was excited of course, yet equally frightened, knowing that a candle that burns twice as bright dies twice as fast.

Indeed, our story unfolded in that manner. It was no fairytale after all. It wasn't scripted by Nicholas Sparks. It was the kind of love that didn't thrive. The kind that avid fans of happy endings will ache for. And so in the days that followed, I found myself fading from the euphoria, which happened right after you told me that we just didn't fit right.. I figured that I cannot force us to be together because it was becoming unrequited. It was, after all, only love at the first sight. The spark in seeing you again just sputtered out, and faded. There was not enough fuel to make a flame.

And now, I am sitting in a slightly crammed convenience store on a hot Thursday afternoon. With my mood a bit tipped over, what with the lack of sleep and the surge of patients at the Emergency Room the night prior. But I am not waiting for someone anymore. I just want to fill my stomach with something to churn on, before I find myself falling for the wrong trapdoor of that thing called love at first illusion.

My body is a vessel.
I walked away from it at midnight.

I traveled to where you are,
Watched you sleep until daylight.

I listened to every sound,
Even the flicker of the lamplight.

Until I heard you say her name,
And it gripped my heart tight.

So tight, I never woke up,
Lost myself under the moonlight.

The reality I have to bear
     is that there's nothing I can do
But keep to myself all affairs
     and leave nothing more than a clue.

Like the dents above the pillows
     where our heads once laid upon
And the tinge of my crimson lipstick
     that pressed your lips at dawn.

Like the letters in the closet
     that I gave on Christmas eve
Or that night when rain had caught us,
     and I slept wearing your longsleeves.

Like the speakers you had purchased
     for our movie marathons
Or the cup of coffee on the table
     that helped me study all night long.

Like the post-its on my backdoor
    that wished me luck for my exam
Or the wilted petals from a rose
     you gave to me so I’d calm down.

I could name a few more moments
     when forever was ours to keep
But these clues are none but *******
    long buried with a painful heap.

Ischemia – the imbalance between the supply and demand of the heart for oxygenated blood. I thought it was as simple as that, but then you came and made me realize there’s a much deleterious underlying condition to it.

The risk factors for this insufficiency took various forms. Calls were left unreturned. Conversations felt dry and passive. Some plans got cancelled over minor reasons, and then arguments became too dragging to argue over. These contributed to the gradual progression and development of an irreversible process – the decreased perfusion of feelings towards one another. In more than 90% of cases, the disorder had only become clinically evident in chronic conditions, once a tally of misunderstandings outweighed the hope of having any of it substantially resolved.

The pathogenesis was an unending blame game. Initially, there was a sudden severe narrowing or closure of the large vessels. It happened to you, to us, when a plaque existed, and our relationship went atherosclerotic. You grew narrow-minded; I became hard-headed. The excessive build up of plaque caused clogging, and it blocked your thoughts into meeting mine. That’s why we argued. A lot. And it made the diagnosis incurable.   You said I had an increased demand for your time and effort, that I asked more of which you could possibly give. I, on the other hand, have claimed that it rooted from your diminished passion-carrying component. Roses, chocolates, and balloons became a compensatory mechanism for the lapses you’ve done. Until I have accustomed myself in looking at these supposedly “romantic things” as variables of pain, conflict and broken promises. I never wanted that. But I grew bitter. And you are largely responsible for my stenotic ideations of true love. The kind which loves you back when every word sends a positive chronotropic and inotropic effect? Nah, it does not exist. For now.

I felt angina, especially when a large area got affected – when I uprooted myself from deep into your life. And it was awful. Excruciating. But really, I had been cautious. My heart was enclosed by a double-layered protective sac called sanity and self-respect. I guarded myself from believing every lie, and pretended that those sweet words did not reverberate at the back of my head. But you were an exception. You penetrated the wall. And from the inside chambers, you deprived me from the love I deserved.

Your insufficiency in making me feel loved had validated the statistical claim of heart diseases as the predominant cause of mortality on Earth. You have deprived me with what I deserved, until every fiber of this muscular ***** found enclosed my rib cage had been used to the lack of care, the lack of contact, and the indifference.

Yes, you have killed me gradually, by not loving me enough. And you have left me with a necrosed, dysfunctional heart.

As much as I wanted to rule the Candy Kingdom,
My hair is not pink, nor is it a bubblegum.

And when I sought to live in another dimension,
The lumpy space princess had already taken the throne.

I heard of flame princess too. Yes, that girl's on fire!
But to burn unceasingly is something I don't desire.

So I faced the mirror, and stared too long at my pale skin.
Asked myself, could I be Marceline – the Vampire Queen?

Yet there was always something I lacked to be "Princess Somebody"
Hence I gave up becoming one since the world is full of it already.

Instead, like Jake's best buddy – the human - Finn,
I gladly became your "forever alone" companion.

Look at the soft sad shape of her lips,
       how she screams from the inside
       as she only gave off a sigh.

Look at her modestly downcast eyes,
       how her tears welled slowly
       as she refused to cry.

Look at her pulsating wrist,
       how it weakens
       when she denies

That she’s looking back at you
      on a mirror
      full of lies.

I woke with my lips beneath your fingers
        As you traced the outline of a kiss.

You drew me closer, and then whispered
        Some words I can't easily dismiss.

I got hooked to the moment, like a winner
        Engulfed by the feeling of morning bliss.

Then I crawled back under the sheets, with terror
        Thinking that those words lead only to brokenness
        - to a rope led down into the dark abyss.

I wanted to speak with this little voice
       to defend myself from having sinned.
Each word would then seek to destroy
      the lies they made about me and him.
But unheard, I was, amidst the noise
      so I prayed for serenity to settle in.
In the end, I made a choice
      to be silent, and just take it all in.