Five months. It has already been five months yet I still feel this way.

I toss and turn in bed, scrolling through all our conversations. Yeah, I still haven’t been able to delete them, reading it every idle moment of the day. Especially when I miss you.

I always miss you, Mina.

Our inside jokes that used to make me laugh all the time now push a dagger right through my chest, reminding me of our bittersweet relationship now.

Oh. Wait. We don’t have a relationship. We never did. It was just a friendship that I read into too much. That was so wrong of me. So bold of me to assume you even liked me more than just a friend.

But can you blame me?

My day would always start and end with you, that so often I felt the days overlap as we carry a conversation through the night until the wee hours of the morning when I would fall asleep, only to wake up and find you still awake, waiting for me to reply to your last message. And once I do, you would tell me to hurry up or I might be late for work. That, plus the constant nagging to drive carefully.

And the daily reminder to get my injured hand fixed up. You kept complaining how fast I type despite the broken bones in my wrist which I got from playing too much basketball, but I always said my hand doesn’t hurt when it’s you I’m replying to. I showed you a photo of my hand in a splint and you cussed and yelled at me for days.

I still haven’t had that surgery. I guess I want you to keep worrying about me every time I text you knowing I’m exerting a lot of effort just to be able to do so. I want you to keep worrying every time you see my hand in a splint knowing I’m still pretty much hurting even when I overdose on pain killers.

You also never miss out on every opportunity to reprimand me for drinking too much coffee and softdrinks. We often fought about it, especially when I start arguing how I don’t meddle with your devotion to whisky and beer. Your counter-argument is that you drink plenty of water and I don’t, and you would start threatening me about force-feeding me with vegetables everyday.

You always worry about me, even when I should be the one worrying about you. Remember that time you got lost on your way back home from the beach because of your crazy hangover from the drinking spree you had the night before? You didn’t have any idea where you were and you texted me right away. And I, this simple fool, panicked so much that I snuck out of work just to pick you up and drive you home. But instead of thanking me, you got so mad because you were afraid I might lose my job.

You do know I’d rather lose my job than lose you.

We talked to each other so much that it felt like I have known you all my life. I immediately felt so comfortable sharing every piece of me with you. Like my heart has finally found a home in you. 

And you have always told me how important I am to you. You said I’m the most decent person you’ve ever met. You said I’ll always be special to you. You said you don’t want to talk with anybody else but me because I’m the only person you know who makes a lot of sense. You said you’re grateful that I became a part of your life.

You said a lot of things. Too many things. Too much. And I remember them all.

But you? You have forgotten every single word.

All because I was stupid enough to confess that I have fallen in love with you.

You tried to be nice about it at first. You said you don’t want to be in a serious relationship yet. I said I’m willing to wait until you’re ready. 

And that’s when you snapped. You spewed one poisonous word after another, making sure whatever affection I felt for you would disappear as soon as it landed on my ears.

I just read it all wrong, you said it yourself. You just care about me but never saw me beyond anything more than just a friend. That there was no attraction whatsoever. That you could never see yourself falling in love with me. That I should just forget about what I feel because I would never have a chance at having a romantic relationship with you.

For the death blow? You said that I must be insane to even think you’ll ever fall in love with someone like me.

You made me feel like a complete stranger in an instant. You shattered my dreams in a snap. You made my world explode effortlessly.

Things have never been the same since then.

You left me to tend my wounds on my own. Suddenly our friendship has been reduced to nothing, like it never happened, like I was never a part of your life. A stranger – that is all I am to you now. You can’t even look my way when we pass each other by.

I still can’t hold a conversation with anyone without mentioning you. I still pray for your happiness, for you to be blessed, for you to reach your dreams, for you to succeed in life. I still cannot sleep without thinking about how you are, if you still manage to eat or sleep, if you feel sad or if you need someone to talk to.

Every waking hour is a moment for me to wonder what happened to us, how our friendship ended the way it did. All because I fell in love with you. I can’t stop thinking about it the same way I can’t stop crying because of you.

But do you even think of me? Do you even wonder how much pain you caused me? Did you even consider how you broke the heart of your own friend?

Since that day, there has been an unbearable heaviness in my chest, pressing on my heart, crushing it, and it keeps getting worse everyday. My life feels empty, as if it has been out of me to fill the void you left in my heart. But nothing suffices. It beats, it pumps, but nothing flows aside from my tears. They say faking a smile usually deceives the brain into believing you’re okay, and I say there’s no truth to it because the more I smile, the more I feel the pain throbbing within me.

What is the weight of a broken heart? Does it weigh more than friendship? How much does it cost and what price are you willing to pay for it? 

I don’t want to feel this way anymore, Mina. I wish I could have my memory erased so I could forget you the way you seem to have forgotten everything about us. I wish I could turn back time, take back everything I said, and have you back. I don’t want this. I never wanted this. But you served it to me with a cruel smile on a silver platter and your unforgiving dagger tongue.

I don’t want this. I don’t like this.

How do you run away from yourself?