— Somehow facing,
never crossing.

"It's hard to stop from going further."

— Lovers looking,
not once meeting.

"Maybe we are, maybe we aren't."

— Eyes twinkling,
smiles retreating.

"God, you are beautiful."

— Time comes passing,
feelings leaving.

"I'm truly sorry."

— Hopelessly craving,
a love that's dying.

*"We're never meant together."

They say those who are awake at two or three in the morning are usually those who are in love or who are lonely. I have come to realize that there's a third kind, and that's being both of these two things at the same time. It's 2:03 in the morning and I'm missing you, so much that every inch of my being craves for you and my fingers itch to text you, all while telling me to don't even bother. My inability to sleep has caused me to start whispering what ifs to the ceiling, sounding crazy yet at the same time secure because it's your name that resounds. God, I wish I had the chance when it was given. I wish I could tell you how special you are but I also wish I can tell you to stop. Stop giving me short glimpses of ever having a life with you, but please don't make me stop thinking about it. I probably don't make sense because I'm half-sane and half-out of my mind, but I wish you do and at the same time, I hope you don't. I wish you knew how much I love you, but I also pray to the heavens above that you never find out.

People who are awake at two or three in the morning are usually those in love, lonely, or confused.


*I happen to be all three.

You don't get to choose who you fall in love with, she says. For most, this isn't true. Millions of people know who they want to end up with for the rest of their lives. They want someone who would love them beyond what one is capable of. Someone who will tell them they mean the whole world for them. Someone who would take the risk, catch and fall. A lot of people make definite images about who they plan on falling in love with.

I didn't.

I agreed with what you whispered that night while we were on our phones, waiting to see who gets knocked out of their senses and fall soundly asleep first. I thought of it over and over and heck, it made sense. I was out of your preferences. You were too good to be mine. Yet you were madly in love with me and I was madly in love with you—

But then, why would I be surprised? You eventually left.

You came in like an earthquake, shaking my thoughts and mixing my feelings with what I stand for and I was left in a horrendous state—too damaged to ever be fixed. A passing moment you were, but what devastation you have caused. I guess, you really don't get to choose who you fall in love with. Because no matter how seemingly perfect our love was for each other, left I was with nothing but a crack right in my heart.

-------------

I once learned that Love Waves were the most destructive surface waves ever to occur, I said.

Maybe there's a reason it was named liked that, I thought seconds after as you turned back and walked away.

"There's something about traveling to places, you know," you said.
You just got back from some country in the East to celebrate New Years
with relatives from home. You were two days too late, due to a delayed
flight you complained so much about as soon as you landed. You hugged
me, I pecked you on the cheek, and then we sat down.

"It's the culture, the diversity of each place, and oh God," you continued.
"The languages—I've learned so many different words—that's what I love
most!"

You rambled on and on all throughout as the night went on, stopping in
between stories to swallow the food you took in and drink the beverages
you ordered. I smiled and laughed as you went on with your experiences
while you were away.

The time read 12:06 in the morning, but that didn't stop you from talking
eight months worth of stories since you left. Eventually, you did stop, and
that's when I realized how long I smiled as I stared at you. Your eyes, and
how they shine a streak of gold because of the chandelier atop our table.

You looked beautiful that night, the same way you did during the time
when we stayed out late at night to look at the stars and watch them disappear
as the sun rises. Well, you looked at the stars and anticipated the sunrise;
I looked at you then.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" you ask and then you followed it with
a chuckle, and I was reverted back to reality. You smiled at me (God knows how
long, and how I didn't want it to stop), but moments later, your radiant smile
turned to a frown I was hoping I never had to see. You wiped your lips, stood up,
and got your things.

You looked at me with your eyes, the same eyes that closed and turned away back
then; the same eyes that decided to leave.

"It's never going to happen again," you shook your head. "I'm sorry."

And then you left.

—————————————————————————————————

I followed her outside, called out for her name, and then took her hand. She turned
and looked at me, and that was when I knew I was ******* as soon as I decided to
tell her what I wanted to say ever since she came back.

"You learned a lot of different and new words, but you never learned to say I love you back."

I’m not a drug addict
but you’ve become a bad habit
that I can’t seem to break.

I keep selling my soul
to your sickly sweet promises
to get my ******* fix.

They tell me I'm weak
because I keep coming back...
but so do you.

Which of us is the addict,
angel boy?