years had gone by
and i hope the memory of me
somehow makes you cry

but wishing pain on you
is like wishing pain to myself
so, i let you go
at least in that way
i have loved enough
to forgive you

and to forgive myself -
in the process

✉✉✉

It was a hard six years of holding on to memories that - I am certain - you probably don't recall as much. To you, it may have just been another day. But to me, it was months of thinking what was wrong with me for you to hurt me that way. And maybe it was wrong for me to think that it was my fault or maybe it was wrong for me to believe that recovering was my responsibility. And each and every day I remember how you treated me is contrasted by the days you spent with a new girl with whom you treated better after breaking my heart into pieces.

My friends, they say your name in tongues. Because they're afraid that a part of me starts to recall the us that I kept framed in the wall of this small house. And with each visitor that comes by, they look at it until the spaces beside yours were filled with photographs of the people who had also done me wrong. And day by day, I start moving forward and removing them and painting over the scars - with only yours remaining in the spot where I left it.

And cupcakes, they don't taste as sweet as they used to. They left a bitter taste in my mouth the moment you asked me to leave them at the front door of your apartment without even getting them from me. Maybe I should have took that as a sign - that you were hiding something from me and you weren't as honest as you said you are. Waiting, became more of a pet peeve than a virtue. I had to stomach in waiting an hour and a half for you because you promised you'd see me - only for you to cancel last minute without giving me a warning.

I stopped wearing my favorite blouse - the one with the rose patch on the bottom hem. My heart races at the thought it was what I wore when we met in person the first time. It was the only piece of garment that made me comfortable in my own skin but after that day, it had been tainted with feelings of insecurity - that my body and my love and my time were never enough for you to stay; that all I'll ever be is someone that'll be used for pleasure. You probably would never know how much I cried - for years, actually - after you ghosted me. 

And maybe it's best that you don't.

Maybe it's enough for me to know that you regret what you did - even if it was not said directly towards me. Maybe it's enough for me to find comfort in the fact that you also have not forgotten about what you did - and that you somehow ruined how love would look like for me in my future relationships. Maybe you knew me enough to know how I would react and that I would change completely right after the events that transpired after us. Maybe it's okay to not know everything about you - or you, with me - so we had the time to think about being better.

But I also know that it wasn't easy for me to easily accept these things. 

However, for the past six years, I've been learning more about myself beyond the things that you knew of me. That there was nothing wrong with me in the past for believing the words someone - who said they loved me - had told me. That there was nothing I have done to deserve the pain I have went through. That recovery will always be my responsibility because I no longer want to hold the resentment in the space where I could put more grace and love for others. That I'll be happy for you and my friend - whom you've been dating for years now - and hope you won't do the same to her; because that's all I can do now.

I learned the tongues that my friends spoke so I can also hear your name better now. That part of me that watches the frames slowly reaches out to take yours down. For I am ready to paint over the scars that it had left - for fresh photographs and memories to drop and take its place. And day by day, I watch as the pictures on the wall are no longer ones I take down because of pain but are of those whom have given me so much happiness.

I no longer like cupcakes but the whole cakes given to me by those around me had been enough to replace the bitter after taste of your love. And patience, has now become a virtue. Even after all those years of waiting only to get hurt, there are those who are always worth that pain. And that promises will always be fulfilled with the right people.

I have a lot of favorite pieces of clothing now. Those feelings of insecurity tied with my favorite blouse don't bother me as much. And I stopped thinking about it when my mother decided to give it away because I didn't want anything to do with it anymore. My body, my love, and my time, will not be defined by the times people have given it away but it will be defined by how much I have given it without thinking about the consequences. And I'll be honest, I love and I give a whole lot when someone really matters to me. You probably would never have to know that anymore but there are days where I wish you knew how happy I am now.

Because maybe, it'll be enough for you to know that I'm doing better even after what happened. That even though it took me years to finally let it go, I'm finally putting it down - for other people to find and for other people find comfort in the fact that these experiences are not limited to only one. It's just how we deal with them that'll be different. And maybe, that's really all that we have to know from the people we hurt or people who have hurt us.

I'm learning now. And that's all thanks to me.

You may have traumatized me but I made a decision to become better from it.

Maybe it's enough for you to know that I'm finally enough for someone else, R.
And it's enough for me to know that you're enough for someone else.