by Mikee Razon
I couldn’t say goodbye.
I couldn’t say goodbye even if I wanted to.
I couldn’t say goodbye even if I wanted to because it would finally bring closure, the closure that I direly need, but the same closure that I violently refuse to have. You see, I’ve grown accustomed to the little chaos that you brought into my rather plain and monotonous life. I’ve grown accustomed to the little chaos that brought color to my black-and-white world.
You see, I’ve actually grown fond of living our lives on the edge, even though my definition of living on the edge is having dinner with just the two of us, catching the last full show of the movies that we planned on watching three days before. My definition of living on the edge has changed from trying to get good grades to having afternoon dates in hidden coffee shops, hoping that no one would see us exchange gazes and smiles.
I lived for those moments, you know. I lived for the moments when you’d take me out of my daily routine save me from my boring self. I lived for the moments when we’d sneak out and stay up until the wee hours of the morning to watch the sunrise, not giving a damn about responsibilities for a while. I did live for those moments, you know. For a little while, I thought that they would last forever.
I did live for those moments, but now, I’d do anything for those memories to leave me – to leave like how you and I left us. To leave without traces, without marks because these had me missing you on a Sunday night. To leave without a whisper, without any warning because I might just find myself scrambling, scrawling another letter to make sure I still have these memories that I desperately try to relive in my head.
No, I couldn’t say goodbye – at least not now. I can’t risk another heartbreak because I refuse to accept that these memories will forever remain to be so.
No, I couldn’t say goodbye.
But I need to, so goodbye.