DIGITAL ART by Meldrid Ayag
Unlike what the popular Girl in Red song suggests, I did not fall in love in October. Instead, I faced what seems to be the biggest heartbreak of my lifetime.
In my 17 years of existence, I've managed to fall in love just once. She was a girl I knew from forever ago, and when I saw her for the first time after more than five years of not seeing each other, I knew that from that moment forward, my life would change completely. And I wasn't totally wrong, I guess. But what used to be a positive manifestation took a turn for the worst.
It only took less than a couple of months before I realized that I was completely in love with this girl; that my day simply could not be complete without seeing her. Just like the drugs my mother mercilessly reminds me not to try, ever. But in those moments, I had no idea that what I had for her was an addiction-- that the uncontrollable thirst for me to be with her 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, for 365 days a year was my fix.
I had told my whole family about her and they did not take this coming out as I had planned. But despite their reluctance, they realized that I truly cannot be helped. I was completely, inconsolably, utterly in love with her. And the whole world knew.
But after just a few months, come the end of September, the concrete pillars our relationship stood on finally came crumbling down just as both of us expected.
It was like a stake to the heart. A gut-wrenching pain I cannot ever, for the life of me, put into words. I still had the addiction, but I no longer had my fix. She was gone. She could not care less about me. The love that made us feel invincible tuned into the same love that shattered me.
But a few weeks later, I was up on my feet. I've never really been the type to find it difficult to move on. I was not completely okay, but I was definitely better. For the first time in a while, I no longer felt so maimed. But just as I was about to leave the past behind, it crept back onto me again.
I was on the beach with a couple of friends, talking about the people we wanted to be. I was just starting to get lost in the thought of the future when suddenly, as if the universe was making a punchline out of me, I saw her again; my past. She stood a few meters away from me, not close enough to touch, but not so far away that I couldn't hear the sound of her voice.
I heard her laugh. It was distant, but it was audible. At that moment, I wondered about what she could've been laughing about. I wanted to be a part of it. I wondered if I'd ever be able to make her laugh like that again, the way I used to.
I was dark out, so I couldn't really see her face. It was just that all too familiar laugh and her silhouette; a blue button-up shirt, brown pants, and Converse---from that alone, even with my extremely bad eyesight, I knew that it was her. She had changed so much, but I was still the same; I still felt the same. It's the type of love that you could recognize even from a distance.
I genuinely thought I'd be able to get over it by now; that the breakup would just grow on me and I'd get used to her not being there when I needed someone. But she is so familiar. She's like an old t-shirt that I cannot, for the life of me, bring myself to get rid of. The warmth she brings is unmatched, like a cup of tea on a rainy day.
And as the fall season nearly comes and the chilly breeze reminds me of the cold, lonely nights yet to pass, I cannot help but think about just how blue October would be without her.
I'll miss the warmth on our rainy days and the comfort in her touch. And I'll forever be hung up on the memory of us spending days on end within arms reach of each other.
So I did not fall in love in October, and this breakup is making me despise the fall.
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