Life After You

Yeah, I messed up your life. I probably, somehow, jeopardize your chances last election. I may have caused you sleepless nights for quite some time. Selfish me, I did horrible stuffs I shouldn’t have done. I am sorry though. I am so done with all the drama. I am so fed up with people talking behind my back. I am just sorry.

I missed us, too. How you absorb my furious angst against everyone. How you would calm me down after all the disappointments. How you were there for me when I thought I was hopeless. You were forgiving, caring and understanding. You were there for me whenever I needed you. Yeah, you were awesome. I thought we were made for each other. But then again, it never happened.

It’s been nine months (I lurked at your blog to check for some details) and every one moved on. You have your man, which I think makes you feel loved. I sure hope he makes you happy, still. Aside from occasional flirting with some friends, I haven’t had someone though. But I am great, I am totally fine.

Handing you your notebook is the closest we could get, for now. That moment, I felt nothing. Not a bit of hatred and anger. And that could launch our bid to rebuild our friendship we once had. You can still be a part of my life. But you cannot mess with me now, the same way I can’t mess with yours. Truly, time heals all wounds and this has been my life after you. My battle scars all peeled off and I am as unscathed as new.