Mr.C, how does it feel like when you are no longer yourself?
“We were too weak to confess that we were in fact, horribly weak.”











Mr.C, how does it feel like when you are no longer yourself?

Did you cry like you used to or did you weep alone, somewhere in the dark, listened to your favorite Debussy piece?

Six years it took to build a strong and solid bond, but it took no less than a millisecond to destroy.

“Why you left without a good reason?” You asked and asked till I gave you blank response.

To hell I swore, I was madly in love with you then.

How should you know this could be coming? You were a victim, indeed you were, though you did not see me as a victim in sophomore year. I was beaten in every aspect, despised, and hurt with the rumors around. You were supposed to, or least with a little sympathy, I would not call it save, but you were there, and you should aid in some way.

“But you were strong enough. You did not ask for help,” you firmly gripped my hand and said you were surprised to know the deep hallow I curved on my very own skin.

And to hell we both toasted.

“We were too weak to confess that we were in fact, horribly weak.”

 

I shall see you soon. No vacancy, just emptiness, without my console. I wonder how you hang in there and what you have paid for all those courtesy.

 

I shall see you soon. This time in public, not privately; in salon, not your own room.

 

All in all, I hope you are too, still looking for tranquility in life.

 

You see, all started out so simple, all threw out the window…

I could even be the man of my own.

You made me ponder over and over, again and again, through everything I’d done.

I cope with all these packages and you never knew, because I was born to be a fighter, I was the player, I was the super hero, all those reasons you gave, none of them make sense. I was just a person who tried to take every responsibility, perfected every aspect of life. I was just someone like you, someone who went over every detail to see if he/she had done something wrong.

 

I’d rather miss out love this time. You made it hard to fall in love. You made it hard to trust someone. Or maybe…you were the only one.

 

How should I know?

All I care about right now is how I find my talent, without you, of course.

 

Yours Truly, Ms.C

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