You have no idea how many times I told myself that it’s not you. For years I have been pushing back these thoughts to the back of my head, locking them up and making sure they won’t ever, ever come back to haunt me. But they do, every single day because everything I see reminds me of how you look like and how you used to be. I used to hate strangers with the same haircuts as you. Most jokes and puns fail to amuse me now because I only find them funny when you’re the one telling them. I hated some words and refuse to use them whenever I write because you say them frequently. I’m afraid to sound like you. I am always scared of writing about how awful I feel because they’re mostly your fault. I used to hide behind my words, my metaphors and similes just so you won’t ever find out that all I ever wrote were letters to you that I never sent. Writing addresses as sloppily as I could and hoping whoever gets these letters also gets how I feel and sympathize with me. So far, no one ever replied. Like you, maybe they don’t care as much as I do. I’m always the one who cares the most. Always.

I feel even worse whenever you call me and I hear that extra breath you do after you say you missed me. For some reason, it tells me that you mean it. I never knew how to respond to that because I don’t know how to say I miss you more and it’s killing me every day. I sometimes wish you’d stop saying those words no matter how much I crave them because I never wanted to be that pathetic person who’s forever waiting on the other line, getting excited by every word you say. But I am. I wish you were a liar. I wish you’d stop calling me. I don’t want to hear your voice anymore but I don’t want to forget how you sound like when you say my name.

I don’t know if you noticed how I always put my arms in front of me whenever you want a hug as if I’m defending myself from you. The worst part is, you hug me anyway even though I never hug you back. I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want to hug you back, believe me I do, very ******* much. You don’t know how much I regret not hugging you back. I’m just really terrified that I might not let you go. I don’t want to be a thief. I have enough reasons to be disappointed at myself already.  

Sometimes I feel like we’re galaxies apart.  You, a big blue star in the heart of the universe and I, a black hole, exterminating everything in my path on my way to you. Midway, I stopped and I realized that if I get closer to you, I might destroy you as all the other stars I passed by. So here I am, staying away from you as far as I can, watching you from afar so I won’t ever touch the masterpiece that you are even though that’s all I ever wanted to do ever since we met. I watch you shine from a distance as I starve myself from the warmth of your light. I remain in the darkness, quietly counting the light years between us.