Freefalling

“Bye.”

He looks bewildered, confused as I stand up from his bed and pick my bag up from the floor. He lies there like a child as I started heading for the door. I have to go.

“Wait, don’t go. What do you mean ‘bye’? Please, wait!”

He sounds so lost there lying in his bed when he shouldn’t; he should, after all, know by now why. I don’t want to answer him and I don’t want to look at him; I just might not be able to make it through the door. I continue with my slow steps, while he continues to frantically ask me the same question over and over again.

It shouldn’t have been like this. Everything should have been so perfect but then again, nothing is always perfect.

Probably it was my fault. Yes, that must be it. After all, I was the one who allowed him to chase after me for months on end, letting him guess the things he can’t seem to understand about me and making him frustrated whenever his guesses where wrong which was most of the time. Or maybe because I knew that this would eventually happen and yet I still risk his, not to mention my own, life.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said that I felt the same way about him that day. He should have been with some other girl by now who deserves so much more than me. Maybe then he could have lived his life better by not following the boundaries we had to follow (or cross over secretly) that went with me. Maybe he could have experienced something more aside from just looking forward into the future when we could finally be together. Maybe…he was better off without me.

The thought crossed my mind a thousand times with different scenarios to match every night, stifling sobs for fear that my brothers might wake up to find me drowning myself in self pity in the middle of the night; I’d die first than letting someone see me in such a state. They shouldn’t find out why either. Not long ago, my dad found out us. Obviously, he wasn’t too happy about that little secret of mine. That little incident taught me to keep our little secret from my family. I never forgave my parents, and I probably will never be able to.

Just a few years ago, we were just mere acquaintances if not friends. Who would have thought that this would turn out? Back then, I wasn’t really looking for love. Human love sounded cliché to me, so unreal, so temporary, and yet I was drawn to the thought that maybe its not so bad as it may seem through my eyes wherein everybody just kept falling in and out of love, not even knowing what it really is. The world was a heap of bodies trying so hard to cling itself onto another one while I was one of those who watched with less interest, knowing that it’s the same thing over and over again. Then he came along and I was thrown into the mess.

I found that I was wrong with my childish presumptions of the world and love. It was so much more than being like a rosary full of mysteries or like a snake’s poison. It was like the fear and exhilaration of falling while keeping your eyes closed meshed together. You wouldn’t know where or when you’ll connect to the ground (or if you’ll ever land at all). I, on the other hand, have fallen into an abyss and, quite ironically, I know that I’m almost near the ground.

My hand finds itself resting on the silver doorknob while his voice still rings in my ears. I suppose I have to answer him. I try to control my emotions while looking down the wooden floor. The thought of not walking in here again stung my eyes but I hold them in. Closing my eyes, I give one more deep breath before looking at him.

“You couldn’t make a decision. I can’t be selfish anymore. So, this will be the last time…”

To resist was futile; the tears that welled up inside me are flowing down my eyes. My voice is starting to quiver already, my hands are beginning to shake, and my tears didn’t stop flowing. I start laughing. I thought that I was so prepared for this moment!

“I understand. I respect your decision.”

He looks at me, not with pity, but with understanding. It’s as if it doesn’t faze him the least even as I try wiping my tears away. I don’t know if I should be thankful that he doesn’t pity me or frightened by the fact that he may not even care. I try to control my body again by laughing it off. He must think that I’m going crazy. No matter.

“I’ll just wait for you until you’re ready…”

“No! I won’t let you do that!”

He motions me to come to him. I take it, rushing into him and crying like a child. He tells me not to wait, that it was unfair, that I shouldn’t or else he won’t allow me to break up with him. I cry on his arms and he cries with me. His hold burns my skin, chokes me. I tell him to let go but he refuses. I tell him its okay, that he has waited for me too long and that it’s my turn to wait for him but he continues to shake his head. I had to go but he wouldn’t let me.

After a while, he finally, but reluctantly, does so. I still can’t stop crying. I have to leave. I have to go. Before he could even say anything else, I open the door with much difficulty. I give one more glance, only to hear one more heart-wrenching plea not to go, and I close the door behind me. I stare at the door I will never be able to open again and I walk away, wiping away once more the last of my tears. I have to go.

A/N: I just made this recently. Hope you guys like it. If there’s any errors (such as words being mixed up or whatnot), don’t mind it. I’ll fix it at another time. Don’t forget to comment me. :D Constructive criticism is fine…but I hope there won’t be any weird flames here. That’s all. Kisses and hugs to all my readers!