If I were to close my eyes right now, keep myself still, I swear I could still hear your voice. It’s funny how as I turned my back from you, as how I became busy in what I do, as how I veered myself on the direction opposite from what you’ve taken, I still heard your voice.
Because amidst those distractions, my brain singled out your laughter from everyone else’s.
Because despite how I try to ignore it, I feel like trying to go upward in bungee jumping when I’ve already decided to lift my feet off that ledge and face the fall. And just like that, the moment I heard your voice, I had to close my eyes, convince my heart to stop from beating like crazy and tell myself over and over not to look because I know that if I do, I’m just going to see how far I’ve fallen and realize the inevitability of falling farther.
And my God, it took all my effort to do that.
I whisper those words as if they are mine to whisper. I’ve longed to utter those words as if I have the right to say them. But by the angels, how could I? How could I ask you to hold me when I do not even have the right to make you stay? How could I dare listen to your laugh when obviously they are not for me?
Just like the passing wind and the swirling dusts I try and try to catch you but somehow in the process I’ve tripped and cut my hands trying to touch something that I thought was there just to realize that I was a fool the moment I opened my hands and saw that I’ve wounded myself going in circles for someone I can’t even see. And that’s when I realized it wouldn’t be me, it can’t be me and it will never be me.
And as much as I hated that thought, I found myself continuing to walk on the road away from that voice, away from you. Because as much as I would like to look back, I doubt you’ll be looking at me. And as much as I don’t want to admit, there is really nothing for me to let go of because it was never there in the first place.
I guess those words could only exist here.