I'm through. Homestretch of the year and here I am again. Giving up on you. One of the many "you's" who've come and gone in my life. One of the few "you's" (three to be exact) who meant more than the others, for whatever reason. So I guess that makes this extra hard to do.
I could pinpoint the exact moment that night when I knew I had to do this. You were across the room with her, and in the middle of the smoky haze of the smoke machine and the haze of senses caused by several varieties of Martini I've had, I could clearly hear every whisper, feel every subtle brush of your coat against her skin, sense every low timbre chuckle and see every shy smile. You looked perfect. Like a scene taken straight out from some swanky movie. James Bond, maybe? Haha. Needless to say, every sting stung more than it ever has.
That was mostly my fault. I was doting on Christmas to work its magic on us. It was too much to hope for, and even if the magic did happen, I suppose it's not enough. Siguro, oras na para sumuko na ako that there will ever be something more than there really is.
So to the buddy who loves to drink with me, but will never punch drunk love me, cheers to you.
Paalam na.
