Dear Wind,
How have you been doing as of late? I hope you're doing fine whatever you are doing. I hope you're feeling fine whatever you are feeling. Most importantly, I hope you're as happy as you were before, as you have always been, before we met, if not happier. That would be the only redemption for that phase, you know.
We haven't really talked for quite a while now. And I just mean the way good old, average friends would talk to each other. I don't even mean close friends. Nowhere close that. Nil. Nada. Zilch. To be honest, it's kind of frustrating that we're like this now, you know. It's unfathomable why we have to be like this. When did it start? Did it start when you decided to stop after that fateful call? Or was it a timed reaction, an inevitable event, something you knew was bound to happen? For the life of me, I still can't figure out why exactly we stopped talking, why you stopped after that day, why we stopped sharing. Let me just share though that I may have just validated what people say about losing that person whom you talk to virtually everyday. It's goddamn devastating.
I don't know why I'm writing to you, Wind. I know this will be for naught. Chances are you won't read this, or if you would, you'll simply dismiss it. These will be the same as those words that were sucked into the silence of the continuing pretense that nothing was ever actually said. Gone with the wind at the very moment the words were heard or read. But I'll still write. I'll still speak these words. I have to. And I am sorry that I have to be this selfish. I just have to write this one out. You know me. I make more sense out of the world when I write it out. For old time's sake, I hope you'll allow this selfishness of mine.
Looking back, I realized how disappointed I am of myself and, to my immeasurable sadness, of you. I am disappointed at myself for not taking my side fully when things were ending. I was swallowed into your belief that all is lost that it didn't occur to me that I should have defended myself, my person, my history, and whatever we ever had. I know I failed you when I didn't care how people would interpret my actions that, back then, could have the potential to hurt you. And that is another source of disappointment for myself. I am sorry I didn't bother thinking better back then. But of all the disappointment that I could have, I didn't want it to be of you. And it hurts so bad, and if only I can choose to not feel this way, I would, but I really am disappointed of you. This may just be me, my thoughts, and not actually you, and anyone can point to me that I have not an ounce of right to expect that much from you for me to be this disappointed, but please hear me out even just for a while.
The most painful part of that ending, which up until now, though I try my best to accept, but I still can't, was the fact that you didn't even bother asking me about my side of the story, my truth, my history. You didn't even bother demanding from me an explanation to shed light to what really is true. You didn't give me a chance to tell you how many friendships I inevitably fucked up without me knowing, whether I liked it or not, how much alone I was because of that for most part of my college life, and how much of that still resides within me. You didn't even bother the slightest bit. Remembering that day, I cringe at how I seemed to have been so desperate trying to explain when you have already decided to no longer listen. You allowed me to explain just to let the words pass from my mouth for the sake of it, without ever appreciating any meaning from them. My words back then, I realized, meant nothing. Though at the very least, I realized that these words were not the words I needed to tell you. It may have been because somehow I felt you have your mind made up that my desperation got the better of me. I didn't fight for myself. I was sucked into their truth, the truth you have believed in without hearing mine.
I am sorry to rant this one out on you. You were hurting then and it was also my fault. I didn't care enough so that you could have avoided the pain you felt. But, Wind, why was whatever we had so fragile? Why did you allow it to be that fragile? Why did you not fight for it? Was it ever worth it to you?
Perhaps until the end, I won't get an answer other than the silent protest of the wind. That is better if it means avoiding the situation where you are forced to respond. Forcing you is something that I would never want. In the end, I just want you to know that it still hurts as much as it hurt before. Moving on could be easy if only I choose and think it to be. But it's the fact that you're that important of a person that I could not just move on without reconciling all of these pent-up thoughts and feelings, without sullying my picture of you. You are kind, selfless, generous, and ever caring. I believe all of these by heart. But if I just "move on" without fairly resolving all of these thoughts and feelings kept within, I fear that even if I will force myself not to, I will still end up hating you for something you should not be hated for. And that would just kill me inside. You don't deserve any of the hate.
I am sorry that I am such a difficult person with this complicated way of thinking and feeling. It's just simply me. I hope that I could have shared more of who I am and how much of a loser I was when it came to dealing with friendships. But perhaps it may just be a tiny bit too late for that now.
Wind, I don't know how I should end this letter. I know, however, that whatever manner I end this, nothing will most likely change. I'll still be in limbo and you'll still be as lively and lovely as you are. Maybe it would just end up me getting used to being in limbo, if that is at all possible. It's just that I don't know how much more strength I can amass just to stay in limbo with a resolve of never ever resorting to hate the picture that I have of you.
I hope this letter, if ever you've read it, wouldn't ruin your day. Beyond this though, remember I will still always be there when you ever need a complicated friend like me. You know me. I can be professional when need be. I promise to give my best to hear you out and help.
That should be all, Wind. I hope we can get back to talking the way we used to before any of the complicated stuff started. I knew I already lost you as a close friend when I can no longer read the "rehearsed shenanigans". I don't want to lose you as a friend. But this is all I and me, which is, again, a call for an apology for being selfish. Whatever you decide to do, I'll respect it.
With all of these things said, I hope you're fine (coz you're oh so fine) and (still) kicking.
Truly yours,
G
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