Diary Lies

Dear Diary

J’s call was expected. And it rang just before noon, as he promised. “I think we should meet up and talk about it in person.” He said. “I can be ready in about an hour.”

So I went, thinking, it was a proper closure for us. We had to do this face to face, not on the phone.

But it didn’t end. It got restarted again. Or at least, for as long as it could be. For as long as it should be.

It was not meant to be anyway. And it was the reason I chose him.

Yes. I chose him.

Several years younger than me. An exchange student from overseas. A definite expiry date on his visa. A girlfriend back home. And at the life stage that he won’t want to commit in anything. All of these made him a perfect candidate as my lover.

I didn’t want to have flings. Flings were too easy to have. I wasn’t satisfied with the casual sexual encounter. I wanted to fall in love. And I wanted to fall within a controlled environment.

How arrogant I was, thinking that I could fall in a controlled environment? You can never fall without losing your mind.

And so in a short period of time, because I thought I was not going to fall in an unhealthy way, I actually gave all I had to J.

So when he said “Why don’t we stay together for the moment?” I realized he was the one who’s been very sober.

He knows that the moment he leaves this country, that the story of us will end.

He knows that he will go back and resume his life. And it’s always easier for the person who’s not being left behind.

He knows that he has all the potential and possibilities waiting ahead of him. And I was not included in all those things.

I was back to his arms tonight. The same way I chose him, I chose to go ahead with what we have left.

The story will end this way, in his term. I will still have his arms around me for a few more nights. He will still call me baby adoringly and give me kisses on my forehead. We will still hold hands and exchange glances with a secret smile. We will still make love and we will still lose ourselves in each other.

I will give him as much as I can possibly give. Because to me, there is no tomorrow after the end comes.

Dear Diary

I called J back. Being weak and vulnerable I was the one who wanted to hear him again.

I looked frantically for his number. And I found his landline. I stared at the number for hours before I dialed those eight digits.

He answered with a cheerful voice. J stated his name. And I replied in silence.

“…Hello, it’s me.” I finally breathed.

“Oh.” he said.

It’s silly. What was I expecting? Him feeling sad and gloomy like the way I feel right now? Like me taking a day off from work? Like me not being able to think or do anything? Of course not.

He said once he decide this is it then this, is it.

So on the other line of the phone he was cold and rational. Rational is a good thing. He was being reasonable. And I was not.

I wanted this to end. But I couldn’t. I just need him to push me more. More. More. More. Push me more. Hurt me more. Take my dignity away. Trash it. Tell me it’s not going to happen. Tell me I am not worth it. Tell me this doesn’t mean anything to him. Tell me he is leaving me for sure and he never wants to see me again.

And I will continue begging. I will continue telling him that I love him and tell him not to leave me.

And he will continue pushing me away. he will feel for me less and less until, I become a nuisance.

And this love story will finally turn into a horror story.

And finally no one would want to remember it. No one will.

Dear Diary

“Goodbye.” J said, followed by my name. And that crisp click sound indicated that the phone connection ended.

We, ended.

I erased J’s number immediately. Any trace that could lead me calling him back, I erased them straight away. Only if I could erase him from my heart as simple as pushing the delete button.

Yes. I provoked J. I pushed him to the edge. To the moment that he could honestly say “It’s not worthy” and move on. So J can move on, back to where he belongs. Back to his world. Back to the place that I should not and would not exist.

It’s the best for us. For J, and for me.

Call me selfish.

I tried to locate some unpleasant memories of us, of J. Hoping that would help me suffer less. Because, at least, I could say “it wasn’t all rosy”. But I simply could not find anything bad about J. Nothing, really, ridiculously, nothing about us was unpleasant. All I could find was happy memories, those happy time that we shared together.

Content. Delighted. Blissful. Ecstatic.

Deliriously Happy.

He made me happy. And he no longer exists in my world. My happiness has gone.

J said that it’s too much of the responsibility to make a person happy. And he was right. I should search for my happiness myself. And how ironic if in the end I find that what we had shared actually was the happiness I had been looking for?

I called his name countless time in my heart. His capital letter. It is marked deep inside me.

He has taken part of my heart. It’s gone with him

Love. Why does it need to be so painful? Love. I don’t understand. Let it hurt I said. Let it hurt. Because if you have never been hurt you have never really lived. And today, I have truly lived.

I want to go on a journey looking for us. A conclusion.

From where we first met, to the café we went to, to the ice-cream place where we had our first conversation where he touched my heart for the first time. I will then fly to that city where everything started, I will request for the room we once stayed, I will walk on the streets we once walked on, go to the café and restaurant we shared food together… I will then come back to this side of the world, I will go to the places that he took me to, and I will drive pass the place he temporarily called it home…

I will do all these because he is so close to my heart. I can do this alone because when I close my eyes I see him.

I see him. And I see him leaving me, walking away from me. I see him being happier. And I see myself being happier, knowing that I have done the right thing.