Witches are one of the most dangerous people you could ever meet, because they know how to harness both love and dark energies. How someone chooses to use love or dark is a matter of past encounters. Tell me of a witch that uses light and love, and I’ll tell you of a story of a girl that has been loved unconditionally by a man. Tell me of a witch that uses the dark forces and I’ll tell you of a story of abuse, heartbreak, and betrayal. For every girl that turns ruthlessly dark, is a boy with a smug smile who watched her burn and die multiple times and still claim it’s her fault all along, while he was the one who hiked her on the stake and throw the first embers of evil fire to her soul.
Do you remember how when we were kids, you taught me how to swim? And when we grew up, you always told me to stay away from waters unless you’re near? You knew how clumsy I could be on all the wrong moments.
But I never worry then.
You were always there to be my lifeguard whether in swimming or in real life. You have always been my floatation device when I’m about to drown, and my lookout when I’m already wading near the deep ends of the waters. You never let me go through any of it alone. That’s why when you’d left, I had a hard time adjusting and keeping afloat, even when I’m not in the waters, even when my feet is flatly on the ground. I feel like I’ll never learn how to float again, and my feet will never find its stability again.
I wish you pushed me harder in lessons.
But how can I blame you? That’s how you’ve always been, comfortable in being relied to, and that’s how I’ve always been, quitting before I even started and just comfortable on depending on you. You said that’s why we clicked on everything.
Sometimes when I’m near the beach, I can still hear your voice ringing through my ears, loud and clear, like it was just yesterday, reminding me to keep to the shore and to not go through the deep waters unless if I’m with you.
Sometimes, I go to the beach alone, because that is when your voice is loudest, that is where my memories of you are the most clear, roaring above the ocean’s wave. And most because, that is where I lose you.
I don’t think I will ever forgive the ocean for never giving you back to me.
Until now, I never manage to learn how to swim, and I’ve never been comfortable again with waters. I don’t think I will ever be, since you’ve been gone.
**…continuation from a post titled, 17.
There’s something so painful about chasing the memories and love of a dead person. It’s like trying to hope for a better future, a future you know that wouldn’t involve them anymore. A future you once thought would be all about you and him.
I heard our song on the radio while on my way to office, and I was hurled back in time in an instant. It’s still hard to grasp what happened, like it seems to happen just yesterday and I was on the pavement of the hospital, crying my heart and soul out.
What you did, why you did, the theories behind it, the mechanics, I all understand it now. I studied it for you. I just wish I’d understood it before when you’re still clinging to me for life support, like I’m your anchor that keeps you from floating away from this world that demands too much of you.
I wish I held your hand tighter, and hugged you a little bit longer, and listened to you a little bit more patiently. But I didn’t. I took you a little bit for granted because I thought you’d be my forever, that you’ll always be here on my side, that you’ll always be my partner in crime.
When you left us, the world stop spinning for me as if for punishment. That’s the time I also realized that time could bend, that time could stand still and that it could stop just like that for me, the bright noise of the world dimming in a blink of an eye, the curtains closing, and I’m left with nothing but your memories and the white noise behind.
And contrary to what you always say to me, I learned that there’s such thing as too late. And I’d been too late. I’m so sorry.