a thankfulness

When someone asks you, "what if I become a bad boyfriend one day?" 

Believe them. It's a choice they're preparing for. 

It's a choice to slowly disappear.

So do it. 

Disappear.

There was no anger. Or resentment. Or hope. 

I did my best not to stay up wondering or rethinking.

Or cry the first month, because what was the point?

In being vulnerable with my sister and best friend, I shared that I had--

I had done the thing I said I'd never do on the last phone call in our lives ever:

which was to plead for someone I loved to stay.

"Because I want you."

Gosh, I'm so cringey.

If I had to give someone a reason to stay...

then they shouldn't stay at all.

I never want to do that again.

I never want to fight harder than someone for what we should both equally want.

I felt very small in those moments, still gripping onto the ship sailing anywhere, 

but back to me.

I can't do that to myself ever again.

The only good that came of my own last words was how pure they were.

I fought so honestly and bravely. 

No regrets. I said everything that needed to be said. 

And I let myself love so hard, even as he pulled away.

The moment came, just in time, when I closed my own door and leaned against it.

I hope that one day, in the next chapter of my long life, that someone will fight for me 

as readily as I did for this person. 

I hope that all the love I've given away 

will come back to me in millions.

I hope that the someone I'll know in that future could courageously 

say the word that holds every responsibility, 

that he say it with such purity and abundance, 

like breathing still air on an ocean planet, that I would shake.

That I would know, it's the kind of _ _ _ _  that would never betray my hopes,

and would remember me, all my favorite little things, 

like how very much I'd like to hold flowers on a little stroll,

or how very much I like surprises, all sorts, 

how I like to comfort myself when I'm sad or what it means when I say that 

"I feel small right now".

The kind of _ _ _ _ that belongs to me too easily,

it would feel like home.

Grip and tug me back if I've gone too far.

Be too easy, too transparent, to really be part of real life.

Be protective. Be vast.

Envelope all the other loves and lives

I thought I ever knew about.

And I would have it as equally in return, ready to give again.

I'm not afraid to _ _ _ _. Ever. What a silly woman I am, if I was.

I'll always wear my heart on my sleeve. That would never go away. 

And I hope that all the love I've given away

was never given away. That I always had enough and more 

for the little miss bean that wanted everything.

 

I worked the last 3 months to reshape and conquer the last two feelings I had:

the sadness and love,

into one last feeling.

It's the only feeling I have left now:

Compassion. 

Compassion for who were when we met each other. 

A fire ball of laughter and hand holding and sweetness that made my belly so warm.

Eyes that saw me for who I was and who I wanted to be.

And if I have any hope now, it's the hope that we will be beyond happy in all the futures we'll have and cannot even begin to imagine yet.

As our ships dock in their respective places in the world, 

as the sun sets on ocean planets,

and as the last candle on the ship burns off,

I let my hands drop to my sides. I close my eyes and breathe in the perfumed night air.

A peach, coconut, salty allure.

The moon would shine like a humungous speckled star. That anyone from any part of the world could see at the same time and want a name for.

And hear at that same instance, the whales so playful and so silly, and if zoomed closer, my heart beat.

And if I listened even beyond my heart beat, I would hear the last sound:

a thankfulness,

breathing freely.