it ate her heart
They told me to love myself. I asked them how, they did not answer.
there are times
I haven’t been writing lately. Maybe it’s because I do not know what to write or I do not know who I was or what I want anymore.
I want you to crave for me. This is the most selfish that I could possibly be. I want you to need me. If not, at least, I want you to make me feel that you need me, that you are not better of without me, that my absence will bring you no good, that you’ve learned to let me be a big part in your life that at the very moment I’m gone, it leaves this huge space that your fingers run through, longing and searching.
I want you to miss me, to need me. At least, make me feel that you do. Because I already feel all these with you. Too much of it, even. Can I be selfish? Just this one time. Let me be.
Weeks passed and it was only getting worse. I did everything I could to get rid of it. I tried talking to mature people who would know what to do when it comes. I tried talking about it to the people who cared. I tried writing it down to let it out of my system. It worked for a week or two, that I would never deny. But ah, when I thought I finally got rid of it, it always comes back stronger. I could not get it out anymore. It’s as if it was stuck in my throat. I could not breathe normally; my breathing was too fast, so was my heartbeat. I could not move my muscles as if I was paralyzed. I wanted to shout but I could not speak. All that I could do was cry and cry like the pathetic person that I was. I did not know what to do. I wish I weren’t weak and pathetic.