To The One Who Rowed Away When My Boat Is Sinking

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It was a fine sunny day. A day full of joyous laughter and screaming stillness. It was a fine sailing day. A day of big-wave wishes and starry dreams. Our lives, our boats, seemed to love the float. Our prayers and hopes perfectly clung onto our ropes. The ties and bonds we mirthfully made were wholly soaked and painfully broke.

This has been a long overdue. I would (maybe should) have done this right after you cut the ties between us. But then I let myself grieve at that moment. I let myself contemplate on our years together. I let myself think of all the things I shared with you. I chose to be in that way. But then, I regretted it.

 I regret the first day I laid my eyes on you. Like, I saw a vivacious and successful future together. I saw hand in hand midday walks while laughing at people who smirked and stared. I saw cardio-shopping during day offs and holidays. I saw coffee chats during lunch breaks. I saw an “us” in a sea of “them”. I regret seeing it with my eyes closed, then.

I regret the day I shared my favorite food with you. Like, I knew it will make you happy. I knew it will make you full. I knew it will satisfy your taste buds. I knew it will save your grumpy stomach on those days. I knew it will heal you from a particular sorrow. I regret sharing it when I know I have nothing left for tomorrow.

I regret the day I liked a puppet show. I allowed myself to be your best actress when that seemingly dramatic (I think “one time assh*ole is more appropriate) person needed a play. I allowed myself memorize scripts you formulated. I allowed myself  know too much information between the two of you. I allowed myself carry a sack of vitriol and a bag of secrets. I allowed myself to be your vault of wisdom when you became broke from your so-called play. I regret allowing myself to be your “do-this-do-that-say-this-say-that type of talking doll”  when I know it will take nailed hands and tied feet just so you can produce a goddamn play.

The day I regretted the most was the day I undressed myself for you. I bared my shoulders off just so you’ll know I am willing to have it irritated by your hair when you needed something to lean on. I willingly hung my breasts loose just so you’ll know I am ready to do something that could make you feel relaxed and lift your heart and spirit up. I cropped my top just so you’ll know you have someone to share the freezing days with. I regret the day when I needed to flaunt my scaly skin and show you parts of me I loathed the most just so you’ll love me even more or maybe, judge me, whatever that was for.

To that day I was blinded by my love for you, gave you another chance when you clearly (and easily) threw harsh judgments on me, accompanied you into the sh*t pit you’re in, made myself a “doubting Thomas” from my own capabilities, screw that! You are one of the reasons why trust has been an issue. You are one of the reasons why people appealed to be cruel and selfish. You are one of the reasons why genuine people became guarded. You are one of those reasons becoming someone’s friend surprisingly felt fearful to do. These are my reasons why I hate myself more than I hate you.

“We were both in a smooth sail when the sea monsters crept out of the water and hit my meager boat wretchedly. I grasped onto the rails but disastrously banged my head onto the hard steel that labeled life until darkness revealed. I fought against the demons that were pulling me away. Until I won it over and saw the light. When I opened my eyes, I saw you rowing rapidly away from my damaged self and troubled boat. What’s worse you even took a part of my boat, a part of my hope – my spare paddle, my genuine trust.”

 Thank you for leaving me behind when I needed you the most. Thank you for choosing to drop me when I was already knocked down into rock bottom. Thank you for watching me drown when I had an “impaired lung” that lessen my chances to swim. Thank you for rowing away when I counted on you to save me from my sinking boat. I’ve always thought it’s an “us” in a sea of “them” that I have seen. I guess, maybe from the start, it was just a “me”  in a sea of “friends”  I didn’t foresee.

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