Pakiramdam ko, patapos na.
I can't really tell exactly how I know, just that my gut tells me that it is. I think it's the drone in your voice -- it's quite different, and how you can't look me in the eye anymore, or sit next to me and let our knees touch like we used to. I can't feel your warmth, or the chill in my spine when you call me by name without the pretentious slur. It's getting pretty old. Sometimes I feel you've tired of me.
Have you?
Truth is, if you have, it will be good for me.
After all, I should be thinking about new beginnings now.
You see, everytime I go to the beach, on the night before I leave for Manila, I swear to come back home with a clean slate. A new start. A new me. That has been the story of my beach trips. To throw off caution, and tears, and doubts, and fears into the sea winds and leave them there, where they will sink to the depths of the ocean in time with the pulsing sunset. A magnificent catharsis, an ode to the Old Me.
The last time I came back to embrace the New Beginning I promised for myself, you came into the picture. I seriously thought you were part of the New Plan. You were everything I had hoped would happen to me. The quiet coming of someone who'll make me laugh, and sweep me off my feet, whom I could talk to about anything, who'd let me be me and want to be with me precisely because of that. You were everything I wanted. But the trend of Real Life works along the lines of how you can't usually get what you want. And I can't have you. Because you belong to someone else.
That night, by the shores of Bora, I knew I had to let you go, too.
But some little part of me wanted to fight for you, wanted to believe that the little moments we shared were bigger than either of us imagined, that we could really fall madly in love and beat the odds. And I wanted to win, this time. Because I've had one too many endings, of late. Pati ba naman ikaw, kailangan ko na rin isuko? Pagod na akong magpaalam.
Kaso, it seems you've been figuring it all out for me.
Sana huwag mo akong sukuan.
