When you fall so hard, how do you get up? Even worse, how do you get rid of the everlasting stinging pain that burned your scraped skin? You frantically gaped as the blood trickled down on the pearlescent smooth skin, staining it. How do you learn to regulate your breath again as your brain loses control of the situation? You want to sit there and wait for help, for the “Hero”, but you’re alone, and with the right sleeve of your old shirt, you wiped the trail of blood. That “Hero” you wished for didn’t even flinch or glance the moment you tripped and plunged downwards. That “Hero’s” back is all you can see when you desperately look up for help and before you know it, he’s long gone, leaving you to learn that he was not a hero after all, but just a mere ordinary person who got your hopes up. Yes, he was there for a while, listening to you, taking care of you, and walking with you side by side. For that moment, he was the center of your world. However, in the end, he left without a goodbye. You wanted to compile all of the false hopes he gave you into a box and throw it him. Even with your wounded body, you wanted to aim at his head with all your strength and yell at him whether it was your fault or his.

You were too rushed, too naïve, and that was why you fell. You look down, regretting it. Wiping the wounds, you wonder how long it would take for them to heal, and if they would scar. If I cry, would that help? If I yell, would you come back? you wondered and sat alone. Only one person left you, but why do you feel so alone... so empty? Only then did you realize that everything before that moment, your world revolved around that person and you were hanging on so tightly to every word he spoke and everything little things he did. Now, you just wanted to tear all those parts of you that have the memories of him tattooed on and throw them away. You wanted to be swallowed up and hidden so you can forget about it, but the pain consistently persisted. 

You began to get angry and it became hard to breathe. Your chest pounded and you felt so stupid. Was it your fault to begin with? Or was it his? You began to question how you allowed it to get this far; why did you run toward him so carelessly? Why did he hold your hands and walk with you, why did he smile with such sincerity and yet, in the end, just left so coldly? You wished you did not even see him, that you never even met him. Why is fate so cruel? You inquired, but knew it was nothing of the sort. It was merely because he never loved you, which hurt even more. You squeezed the wound, hoping it would stop bleeding and that your leg would go numb, but even then, nothing seemed to work. Did all that time mean nothing? 

You stared at the silhouette of the girl he walked towards. Her long hair flowing in the wind and her smile brightly shining. Is she much better than I am? How was she, with such a short time, able to rip away that heart of yours? How did it all fall apart? The time we spent together, how did it compared to that short time you met her? Does she know your favorite colors, your dreams and aspirations, the little things you tell me, your favorite shows, what you are scared of, how you talk to your mother differently than how you talk to your father, how you play the piano, how you don't get along with your roommate, and how you like watermelons and ripe mangoes. Are you... going to do everything we did with her, except with a genuine and loving heart that I never got to hold. 

Looking at her was choking you up and you wished he had chose someone else, even if it was not you. The girl he loved so dearly, you know the a of her that he did not. It was not jealousy (or at least you hoped not), but you knew it was not right. It had nothing to do with you, but she was not right, but you could not do anything about it so you just sat and stared hopelessly.

You knew that although in the end, this might just be a brief moment, it is a painful and memorable moment that would leave scars. 

Wiping the tears away, and shaking off the dust, you stood up again, with a slight limp and a heavy heart. Sometimes, you just have to go on by yourself.

Maybe, just maybe, you'll miss me after this? I hope that I'll remain somewhere in your memory at least, you wished. 

Even if he meant a lot more to you than you probably meant to him, you at least wanted to be a speck of dust in his heart. All those late-night conversations, all those time he picked up on your mistakes and comforted you—you hoped he did not do it out of nothing. Those actions must have meant something, right? He must have, even for a short moment, had you on his mind. 

Just then, you became aware that it was you who was going to miss him so much that it would feel like someone pressing on your heart and wringing out its life everytime his face appeared on your mind. Every single one of those memories of his eyes, his smiles, his words, his laughter, his touch, his presence—everything was going to haunt you for days. You deleted all the songs that you listened to together, tucked away all the stuff he gave you, folded and put away the blanket he used, try to put a bandaid over your wounds and avoided any remaining recollection of him. But it was hard. Everything reminded you of him. Everything. The food you had for dinner yesterday was something he liked, the morning text you sent to someone reminded you of when he used to send you morning messages, the way a guy rode his bike that afternoon was similar to him, washing the dishes alone felt lonely without him helping, and even the movies you planned to watch turned into the ones you wanted to desperately avoid because they now had him written all over them. 

I will learn from this, you decided. You never wanted to rely on someone so much again, never make assumptions based on kind gestures, never allow someone to make you smile so brightly that the lights would burst in your chest, and never again, would you fall so hard. You can taste the bitter tears slipping into your mouth and your eyes narrowed at the image ahead.

If ever, you regret this, it'll be too late. If ever, you turn back, I'll be gone. I am not going to sit here and wait for you anymore. I will go on and I will forget you even if it takes me a hundred years. I hope one day, you'll realize that you missed out on someone who whole-heartedly loved every piece of you; someone who was there for you during the dark times and waited for you during the hard times; someone who had put your happiness before her own, and thought of you too many times in a day. This someone was willing to give you everything, and you missed it all. I hope that girl will love you half as much as I do; love all your flaws, your foolish and dumb jokes, your blunt and direct comments, and your independent and untamed personality. All of which, I now abhor. I want to despite every inch of you and rip apart the image of you in my heart. Can I get over you without becoming a complete storm that sweeps away everything, including myself? However, if that is unavoidable, I hope I will be a storm that travels far away from you.

If she doesn't love every part of you, I hope one day, you will realize, she was never the right one and I'll be the one that you lost.