I'm Still Breathing

It has been four months since you left me. Who would have thought time could pass by as slowly as this, as though the titan god of time is present, freezing time to suffocate me.

I still remember that night, John. October 1. We were supposed to celebrate our first year together. Remember that night, John? It was a cold Saturday night. We were sitting by the seaside, silently enjoying the noise of the city and the glow of the skyscrapers. The moon was up high in the sky, full and yellow. We have always marveled together at the beauty of the moon, didn’t we, John? I was so happy and Manila seemed to make merry with me. I thought that night would live with me forever because that night is one of the many nights that will mark the first and the many years I’ll be spending with you. I loved you very much, John. But that night, you told me you didn’t love me back.

You smiled at me, your blue irises never failing to catch me off guard. You were so beautiful that twelve months still could not stop butterflies from invading my tummy. They were fluttering, John. I was still blushing every time you look at me, your eyes glowing. The wind ruffled your brown hair and you swept them back to order and even that is still stunning me. Every time you look at me, just simply look at me, I can’t help but thank the gods above for giving me you.

“Georgia,” You held my hand. I smiled. “I have to tell you something,” There was something wrong with your face. Your smile faded; your forehead creased. My heart seemed to stop. I was nervous.

“Thank you for the time we have spent together. That was one of the loveliest times of my life, George. I saw something beautiful in you. You are kind, you are patient, you are everything a man could ever have. But every time you look at me, every time you smile, every time you tell me you love me, I cannot help but feel guilty. You’re the closest friend I have ever had; you were with me despite everything, but Georgia… I was never in love with you.”

My world seemed to spin faster. You never loved me, John? How could you?

“I was close to you, but I was never in love with you. My friends were teasing me because of you. They asked me to court you. I was pressured, Georgia. I was not man enough to say no.”

What did you just say, John? I was a mere toy for all of you?

“I courted you. I was sure you’d say yes. You did. I pretended to love you back; I pretended to be the boyfriend you want to be. I grew closer to you. I don’t… I can’t… I can’t tell you the truth, Georgia. Every time you stare at me with those eyes I just can’t hurt you. You are too fragile and too beautiful to be broken.”

You were crying when you said that, John. It was too painful to take it all in, much more to stare at your eyes. I was clenching my fists. Everything was too much. It hurt.

“I kept on telling myself that you’ll lose interest in me too. Remember the fights I keep on pulling off? I did not come to your birth day; I told you I forgot that it was our monthsary. I did that to make you let go. I was hoping that maybe, just maybe, it would be you who would end this. But as time passed, I realized you weren’t going to let go of me. Instead, you fell more.”

Yes, John. I fell more. How could I have fallen in love with a jerk like you, John?

“I can’t stand all these lies anymore, George. You’d probably hate me forever but I deserve that. I’m so so sorry for not stopping this sooner. I’m so so sorry for hurting you like this. You are such a good person, Georgia. You deserve more. May you find somebody who’ll love you back. Somebody who will not hurt you like I did. I’m sorry, George. Thank you for everything.”

You traced the side of my face as a tear fell on your cheek. You kissed my forehead.

“Goodbye, Georgia.”

Those were the last words that you ever said to me. You never came back. I did not come looking for you either.

I was broken beyond repair, John. For four months I lived the life of a zombie. I was not alive anymore. I breathed but I didn’t live. I went to school, ate, and slept like every normal person does. But deep inside I was dead. I did not care anymore.

I spent nights locked in my room, crying. But I have a life to live, have not I, John? Soon I found myself slowly smiling, socializing once again with my friends. I was not happy, but I was okay. And being okay is better than living in depression. I had to rise from that ocean of sadness that I lived that moment you left me, John. And now, little by little, I am coming back to land.

After all the pain you put me through, John, guess what?

I’m still breathing.