This post was written in my Notes a couple of weeks ago. Since I haven’t finished the latest entry yet, here’s a sucky post posted for the sake of posting.
I’m waiting. For the longest time, I’ve been waiting to hear those words.
But really, what good will your apology do? Other than, admittedly, it’s fuel for my ego, your apology won’t fix what was broken. No, I don’t think I’d have it fixed anyway. I’ve given it up gladly like a cross I’ve been carrying. I guess your apology’s just food for pride. Or maybe a closure. The only closure I’m willing to have. Nothing more, nothing less. Just “sorry”. No flowery words to bloom. Just “sorry”.
I consciously observe myself, sighing for the umpteenth time. It’s something I do when I can’t express myself to anyone. I sigh, surrendering to the fact that there is nothing else I can do. I sigh, much out of chagrin. My thoughts ranged from “I’ve wasted so much time and money” to “What the fuck do I even answer whenever my sis asks me ‘Why did you even date him?’”.
I roll my eyes as another tweet of yours makes it to my feeds. I roll my eyes at your stupidity, mostly. I shake my head and tell myself, “At least, I don’t have to deal with correcting your mistakes (more like help you grudgingly accepted)”. At least, I’m free from your idiocy. Well, to be honest, I got freed mostly from my own idiocy.
It took me two years to realize that you really weren’t the person for me. That no matter how we look at it, you can NEVER be the one I need. That took a lot of guts to admit, especially to myself — that I poured my life over a mistake. Something that will just never work.
No, it’s not even bitterness I’m feeling. I used to believe that people can change. I’ve held on to that idea without even thinking of its plausibility: that you’d change. That one day, you’d fit like a puzzle waiting for the last piece.
But you didn’t.
I was wrong.
People don’t change. At least, not to great extents. Call it inertia. You’ve been like that for years. Who was I to say you’d be different for my sake? And why was I so stupid to love a concept? I tried to change you so hard, just like how I changed for you. It’s never going to work. The tomato and the potato got together as ketchup and fries because the changes weren’t anything special. Ketchup’s tomato ketchup and fries is potato fries. They’re still made of the same composition despite some tweaks. It’s still tomato and potato in the end.
But us? We tried to turn the tomato into an apple and the potato into a pear just so we can put them in the same basket. It doesn’t work. It never would. You weren’t made for me. It’s as simple as that.
Why then did it take so long?
I’ve met people along the way that led me to this conclusion. Some of them didn’t even have to try, to flaunt what could make me take the bait. They simply had to exist and I to notice that they’re exactly the person who can give me what, for two years, I never got from you: security and insights among many others. It took me two years to find that an attraction can exist yet you’d leave it be for the main reason that you know it will never work. It took me ages to realize that not everything that catches your eye or even your heart is for you. Not everything you want should be yours. It took me ages to realize that some wants are just bad for my health.
So after how many years, it hit me. I didn’t have to try to look for the missing piece of the puzzle. I didn’t have to try to put it where it obviously does not belong. I had to stand up, leave the puzzle, and “move the fucking on”.