The last time I was in love was years ago. We were making future plans together. We were looking at houses and do some wishful thinking. We planned on living together when we reach the right age. We discussed getting married and adopting babies and making potential names and laugh because of how silly they might sound. We were still young but we had alot of plans. I almost remember how it felt to hold someone and never want to let them go. I almost remember how we used to say we were meant to be. I almost remember what it was to feel like giving your all to someone and still be able to willingly extend more.

Emphasis on the almost.

Because until now, everytime I look back, all I feel is pain. Our happy memories were tainted with hatred and regret. I hate her for cheating on me and I regret begging her to choose me even after being cheated on.

Yes, pathetic. 

But that was so long ago that sometimes I'd fool myself that I'm not hurting anymore. Most days, I don’t think about it too much. I enjoy my life. I've been closer to my parents after a year of grieving for my broken heart, I have friends that really cares for me, and I get to eat really good food whenever I feel like it.

But some days, it weighs on me. I’ll get off a bus and walk on the street, thinking about my past relationship and where I went wrong.

The pain is still there, it never left, it just became bearable. 

And at times like that, I promised not to make it hard for myself anymore. 

One mistake is enough..

One scar is enough..

I don't think I'd be able to stand another heartbreak. 

So it was settled,

​​​​​​

I swear I'll never allow myself to fall in love again.