I suddenly had the urge to click on that blue bold letters with links leading to your page; leading to where you probably stashed bits of stuff of the last five months of your life.

The five months we spent apart.

I hovered over the name for a second—over your name. I don’t miss you, so I never could quite understand why I still clicked it. I could’ve just clicked the ‘x’ button on the upper right corner and get on with my life, forget that for a split second I even cared to check on what you have been up to, but I wanted to see. Not you, but what you’ve been up to over those months of us not talking civilly with each other.

A girl gets curious, you know.

As your display picture, you had the first photo you took in the province, probably in a frail attempt to ‘encourage’ girls to click that ‘add as friend’ button. If I am somebody else, I wouldn’t because that is me—I don’t take the initiative, one thing that drove you crazy back then.

I know it was the first picture you took in the province because you told me, and I don’t forget. Not trivial things like that.

Or the hurtful words you uttered.

Funny isn’t it? I swore I would control the urge to visit your profile, or to check your blog every time I go online, but here I am, ogling at your recent posts, thinking why you post what, smirking at the lined names of girls you currently befriended. You would probably think I am pathetic, and maybe I am. Or was.

You put up with me for over three years, and I was thankful for that.

But that doesn’t stop me from deeply wishing you didn’t.

You were the only person who kept me from totally submerging myself in my make-believe utopia. I learned to retaliate by force or by harsh words whenever we fought. I am not saying it was a great thing out of our perspectives, but for me, it meant I lived. I was forced to protect myself—and my feelings. I worked for something, for an end that will save me from insanity.

And pathetically, I loved.

You kept my feet on the ground; you kept me afloat while holding my feet down to the real world, down to what was true and actual. A sense of direction, you can say. You directed me to places.

And I became lost when I untangled myself from the reality that is you.

- - -

I'm okay, the post above is just because I decided to check what my ex is doing with his life now. I can't even understand most—if not all—of what I typed.

Digression: I will be putting my stories on an indefinite hiatus. I'm starting to sort things in my life now, and I just couldn't bear to see my stories everytime I log in on AFF and die a little inside because I have this massive writer's block in writing fanfiction.

I might even abandon them for good.

I don't know; I am not sure what the future might bring. But for now, I have to concentrate on more important things in my life, and don't get me wrong, fanfiction writing is important to me. But I couldn't risk some of the things I have decided to concentrate on. It still includes writing, of course, but not fanfiction. Original fiction tops the list, that and coherently written decent academic papers.

I wouldn't be gone from here, I just wouldn't update my stories.

I can't give up on this site just yet, not after it directed me to my passion. And with that, I am forever indebted. 

Achailee.