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Feb 2017
Dear you,

In this moment that I’m embracing the sadness of the night where I sit in front of my screen, kissing my hair blown by the wind off the window – I remember you and those nights we used to talk. Those nights I longed for affection while you stood there beside me – charming my desolation. We eased each other, resonating what have gone wrong from our past. We filled our nights with comfort and terror of the impermanence in between us. Those were the nights when we’ve had our hearts broken, yet we claimed we were both okay. I’ve spent limited instants with you through phone calls, messages, and few dates. I’ve dedicated time and effort while you just gave me what I needed – an ample amount of attention and affection and I thought:

This is fine. Hell, everything will be fine. There will be no expectations. Strictly no attachments.

But you accidentally hit a part of me, took a piece of me, and eventually consumed a chunk of me. You’ve entered my thoughts, my quiet world. And I loathed myself for having you through. You whispered I love you in between our kisses, and I whispered it back to you. You hugged me as soon as we have met and kissed my hair every time I’m not looking straight at you. You held my hand everywhere, unafraid of what people might think. You cheered me up on those rough days I’ve had. And called me baby, in moments I thought I have already lost you.

Yet, those weren’t enough. Oh, I have guaranteed long time ago that they weren’t enough. To have the assurance that you’ll stay by my side. Every day, we were being haunted by the insubstantiality of our relationship. We never really defined what we were, so what is there to hold on? We were part-time lovers blinded by our emotional needs. We only tricked ourselves risking the better version of us together. We were good friends, not until we started playing this game.

So I’m here, wide awake in the middle of the night. Writing in front of my screen, alone with my feelings, languishing by the thought of not having you around. Again, I’m longing for affection. But this time, I’m facing it alone.

So now, with everything in hand – the blurry pictures of what we had, memories I’d never want to collect and mixed representations of feelings you have delivered upon me – I want you to know that I’ll miss you. I’ll miss the pseudo-relationship we’ve had. How you tried to consider my permission whenever you go out with friends or how we pseudo-fight about petty matters, how you ridiculously call at 4 in the morning checking if I’m still awake, and that one time you texted my friend checking if I were drunk. I’ll miss everything. Especially those little things you’ve done that gave me warmth. You’ve captured my attention even just for a rough time. You actually have had my hopes up that there might truly be an ‘us’.

I’ll miss you, really.

But I wish I really have had you.

Because you could have had me.

liz, a letter from my 2014 self
Folah Liz
Written by
Folah Liz  Philippines
     Lior Gavra and ---
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