he's a writer
his words were warm and inviting; it thawed my frozen heart
they were sweet as honey
beautiful like summertime butterflies fluttering in the air
i was but a sad, broken hearted boy who needed saving and his timing was impeccable.
"stop holding back, show me the real you, the one you never show to anybody and i will show you real love."
"i want to be your bestfriend, your lover, your everything."
and it went on
"thats the beauty of loving someone who's broken kasi it's like you saved him"
i didnt need you, i never did but i took the risk because i trusted you.
"im half awake and im not sure if im typing this correctly..." he wrote "but if i have to whisper one last sentence, it would be: you're my everything"
"i want to be the one to make you feel all kinds of emotions."
your love, got me singing, got me doing things unimaginable.
it drove away the hurt, the loneliness, the past. i felt alive.
"this is hard but i will be damned before i let this ship fall, i love you so much elijah, i will never give up on you, im not going anywhere."
and then everything changed...
"he's caught my attention..."
"i dont know if this is worth it anymore..."
"i need time to think..."
"i dont think i can do this..."
i was a wreck, i was weak but i had to be strong and fight for what we started.
"im ending things with you elijah, i cannot handle this baggage, this relationship is slowing me down."
like taking knives and slowly stabbing my already broken heart, i kept rereading your messages.
rereading them while, at the same time, listening to your songs and reading the poems youve written for me.
my heart was drowning in a sea of inexpressible sorrow, i could not breathe.
you took your mask off, showed me all the skeletons in your closet and unveiled your book. it was difficult but i accepted them all and stayed.
someone came along and caught your attention.
i brushed it off
and instead, trusted in your love
i trusted your words
i trusted you
you picked my heart up only to piece it together and throw it against a wall.
ang sakit naman nito
i guess i was right, i will never be good enough; i will never be worth keeping.
it was nice meeting you, shamsi.
he refused to stitch his heart up and slept with the cuts open. he hoped that by dawn, every single emotion would have flowed out from the wounds thus, waking up numb.