What was in the aftermath?
My heart was poured out on life in general and in small things. There were longer walks at night, more random ‘I-need-to-breathe-outside’ excuses, sleepless but breathing fine, staring blankly at whatnot but desperately staying inside my mind, letting the memories grieve for themselves.
There have been warmer moments. When I stare directly at the sun and find it like the universe is talking, I should stay alive. When I can honestly tell a friend, ‘I love you, take care on your way home,’ because I loathe the idea of baiting myself with the hope there will be sure next time to life.
I bring no more with me the fear that to look into someone’s eyes means drowning; I realized I have conquered it in so long. The nerve-wracking seconds I count before I share a space with you because maybe that’d mean I would ache on the next. The self-losing rendezvous whenever I put you first before myself when I have known since then my stories were worthier to live.
My love has been stretched, and I know it has reached many more people. Whenever I laugh, and my voice doesn’t stream with guilt; whenever I am held in my closest persons’ arms, and I don’t wish they were yours; whenever I dream, and I know I own it whole. I am so sure my love has stretched, and it also reached me back, but it wasn’t left thin like paper.
I have lived it like it is no aftermath. Like the moments were meant to be, and I am destined to be awake at this hour writing this while listening to the songs that have made me feel so alive from within. Like no end happened, just a snap from the universe and my life flipped, and here I am. Living again, minus the life of you.
Listen to ‘What Is Love’ by Mirasol on Spotify because it made me write tonight. Finally!
