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The end is the beginning is the end

Day 1: In a Parallel Universe

So, this is the end of it. The part where I’m supposed to collect the things you left at my place and vice versa. But I know us too well, we don’t do those kinds of things. We just leave those things untouched, collecting dust. Years later they will look like the index page of our good and bad times.
Unlike Min Green , I don’t know why we broke up and I don’t have anything to put in the box, The only boxes I have are those tiny ones I drew on my sketch books. Each box for each sadness. They aren’t that handy, you can’t put tears inside them, but somehow the wires inside me were so abused, I no longer shed tears when my heart gets broken, pretty hardcore, huh?
Well, the matters of the heart is something I can’t quite figure out yet, maybe I’m a bit slow, but what I’ve learnt so far is that romance does me good. I hope you don’t experience the same thing.
This would be the first unsent letter to you. Expect more.
- Me >>>

September 14, 2012
Day 2: Straight to the Pile

It’s needless to say that the first couple of days of a break up are the worst. I feel as if someone had amputated my limbs without my consent. It feels like it’s still there, but it’s not. It must be your scent on the bedsheet. So I decided to sleep on the couch last night. But then I saw that rim on the coffee table, and I remembered our fight about coasters. Even though it would have only taken 3 seconds to wipe it away, we chose to start another mess.
The house is a mess. I am a mess.
Did you take some of this mess when you left?
- Me

September 14, 2012
Day 3: QC?

We talked about Lacuna Inc, remember?  And I said, it’s ridiculous, why would I wanna erase anything about us?  I even told you that I don’t have any space for emotional baggage crap. That moving on shouldn’t be an issue because as human, we are equipped with this ability.
Now, I’m being ridiculous.
Now, my emotional baggage crap tank is overflowing.
Now, I am a human with factory defect, with no ability of moving on.
Maybe, this is what they call ‘broken’.
- Me

September 14, 2012
Day 4: Crash and Burn

I cleaned the house today. The entire house. I swept and mopped the house. I wiped the kitchen counters and tables. I washed and changed the sheets. I even vacuumed the couch and carpet.
Guess what I found?
I found that missing piece of that puzzle we did before. The one with a picture of a black dog with white background. The one I got last christmas from my secret santa.
Remember how we spent 2 weeks working on it and realized that we’ve lost a piece. We got so upset and I decided to toss the whole thing to the bin. You even considered to burn it.
I found the missing piece today, and I thought, is this what had happened with us? We lost a piece of our puzzle and it looked ugly then we just decided to just throw everything away?
Would we have found the missing piece if we had tried to look harder?
But I guess it was really the end for us. Because falling out of love happens when you stop making efforts. And we did. We’ve stopped making efforts. With the puzzle back then and with this relationship now.
So, I burnt that one last piece.
- Me

September 14, 2012
Day 5: Nothing to be Kept

A wedding invitation came for us. I guess the news is not out there yet. I texted the couple and you should be expecting your invitation soon. I figure that it’s gonna be awkward to see you there, but I guess it won’t be as awkward as the 25th wedding anniversary of your colleague that we attended before.
I still remember the loud and wrong choice of music. I still remember the sea of people who probably had no idea about little black dresses because they were so colorful. I still remember the good food and the free flow of cheap red wine. I still remember that we joined the couple on the dance floor and did tacky dance moves.
And one thing I remember most is that I promised you that if we’re gonna have the same celebration, it will be much tackier.
I promised you that, but I’ve never promised you twenty five years of togetherness, or even a year, or anything.
So, I haven’t broken any promises, have I?
- Me

September 14, 2012
Day 6: Half Proper Farewell

We are drifting apart as this silence creeps between us.
Destiny tiptoes around, leaving nothing but questions.
The stars have no answers, neither have you and I.
And in silence we stay.
Unsaid words and unstolen kisses,
they stab and leave unseen wounds.
Tongue tied and lips locked,
And in silence we part.
- Me

September 14, 2012
Day 7: Stuck Like Unwanted Memories

This is the seventh day and I still prepare coffee for two every morning.  I still wipe the bathroom countertop dry after I shower because you hate it wet. I still buy soy milk because you’re lactose intolerant. I still set the tv to ESPN before I leave for work so you can watch it as you have breakfast.
And I still leave a post-it with a random quote on the door so you can read it when you leave the house.  There are seven of them now, because you are not here to take them down anymore.
“Everyone winds up kissing the wrong person goodnight.”
It is what’s written on the seventh post-it and it’s from Warhol.
I should stop doing this or I should get a bigger door.
- Me

September 14, 2012
Day 8: To The Spy Who Loved Me

I deliberately did one thing you hate today. Yes, I ate in the car, while driving. You hate it because sometimes I forget to take the trash down and days later, the car would smell horrid. Not to mention, I have the attention span of a 2 year old, I don’t need anymore distractions while driving.
I still don’t understand why I wanted to do that. I don’t know what I wanted to prove. I just bought a turkey and bacon sandwich, along with a cup of hot black coffee. I got in the car, started driving and eating, and I could actually hear you lecturing me about the things I shouldn’t do.
Anyway, I sipped the hot coffee as I turned the car audio on. My heart skipped a beat when I heard the song that was playing. Instantly I knew that it was the mixtape that you gave me. The one you compiled in a 90 minutes BASF cassette because you told me that it is the only right way to do it.
I splashed the coffee to the tape deck before I fender bended the car in front of me.
I hate it when you’re still right, even though you aren’t here anymore.
And the song kept on playing.
“Nobody does it quite the way you do. Why’d you have to be so good?”

September 14, 2012
Day 9: Pictures of You

Do you remember when I told you that I always dream in black and white except when I have nightmares? Well, last night was probably the worst dream I’ve ever had because it was so colorful. Yes, I dreamed of you.
The dream started with the both us walking into an art exhibition. It was held outdoors, quite unusual. It showed paintings from the local art school students. I wasn’t really sure of the theme, but everything looked so full of colors. We didn’t look at the paintings together. I wandered around the place while you took your time to examine each painting carefully. At one point, I had my eyes fixed on your back, and even though I couldn’t see your face, I knew you must have been frowning. Then I reached for the Polaroid camera in my bag and took a picture of your back.
The dream then went into a fast forward playback mode and when it was back to normal mode, I found myself in a room, full of Polaroid pictures of your back in every place we’ve been to. The park, the bookstore, the coffee shop, the bus stop, the ticket booth, and everywhere else.
Then I woke up.
And I realized that I can’t remember your face.
- Me

September 14, 2012
Day 10: Cloudy with No Chance of Sunshine

I was working just now and my eyes got so tired. I headed to the bedroom where I would usually bury my face in your neck for a good seven minutes before I get back to work. It’s so good, better than all the seven minutes in heavens I’ve ever played. For a moment, I forgot the room was empty, that you weren’t there anymore. I forgot that the daily football highlights were on because I had the timer set on every night at 7. I forgot that I had set up every possible condition that will make me think you had never left. Even though I made sure there were no traces of you left, as if you were never in my life in the first place.
So I buried my face in a pillow instead, imagining that it was your neck. I listened to the TV host saying was aiming for two trophies this coming season, imagining that you would smirk as you hear that. For seven minutes I stayed still, just because.
And in a muffled voice I started singing that song that I’ve always sung to you.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You’ll never know dear, how much I love you
Please don’t take my sunshine away
- Me

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