So Young, So Stupid, So True

We were strangers waiting for the bus to nowhere. A common goal written in our own universes of misfortune.

I shot you with a half-baked “hi”. You shot back with a half-hearted “yo”. An off-chance intersection, in its momentary meaninglessness, found a route for our bus going “home”. We rode it, seated rows apart. Our eyes prepared daunting glances and daring darts, waiting for a good second for one of us to yell “draw!” Instead, I stood up and wiggled my way to you, bringing the ice cold silence to a complete thaw.

Warming up was easier done than said. A surge of interest sparked, so we cast aside our regrets. We decided to play a game of ping-pong , with our keyboards as the paddles, and our conversation as the ball. Every exchange making our skin crawl, every word making our exhaustion fall. Over time, slowly but surely, we knew how to break each other’s walls.

We’d talk about struggles as if we were born with it from the start. I was lifetimes past a fractured mind, you were breaths away from a broken heart. I was entranced by your warning signs, you were enamoured by my ignorant charm. There were red flags we caught, especially the ones that were bright. We ignored it for a seemingly innocent moment, thinking it wouldn’t cause any harm.

That’s exactly where we went wrong. I remember when we found time to sneak our way out, because we thought we were strong. How I drowned myself in mindless bliss, understanding every inch of you. How you opened my innocence gently, painting me in shades of blue. Our distance no longer a limit, I swear, our hands once touched. Our fingers clasped together, praying for a miracle that our embrace would be more than just a hunch. A chance I’d take just to run my hands through your hair. A chance you’d make just to show me how much you cared. A chance we’d never see, because in the end, we lost each other fair and square.

Fate had its way of giving someone the truth. Our faith in the future being tested, whether or not it was astute. I was holding on to us for dear life. You were holding on to us, hoping it wouldn’t end in strife. But with how I was too feeble, I had to let go. With how you were too desperate, you took it as a blow. It was better to recognize that our distance has been measured in meters and years. It was better to understand that there’s no use in stowing away these fears. We thought we had our happy ending, bit it’s true that we had nothing from the beginning.

The consequence for our sins sends us away burning. An experiment that was too impossible, only successful in its failings.

But in time, resurrection was once again in our cards. We did it right this time, even if exchanging all the apologies were hard. I missed us even if I couldn’t let myself believe in you. You looked for me even if you couldn’t bring yourself to the truth. We were once again waiting for the same bus, but this time we take sit next to each other, dropping off at different points with no fuss. Our hands offered consolation, not mirth. I let you cry on my shoulder, you let me drop some of my boulders. It was peace dented in places, but it was as strong as it was. It was contentment with the distance that defined us.

But like all good things, it had a time limit. I gave cold shoulders, knowing that I couldn’t handle another bother. You begged more from me, knowing that I couldn’t give you anything better. I used you for little moments of pleasure. You used me for comfort, as if I were just another shoulder.

This time, it was my decision to stay quiet from head to toe. This time, it was your decision to let go.

I find myself in loops of guilt for our roses have reached its ultimate wilt. You left me behind, leaving neither a trace nor anything I could consider the truth. I look to the stars, hoping that I forget that I still wish I could still see the ghosts of you.

Now, I find myself with a memory that comes to mind. You wrote songs for people you left behind. I wonder if you weaved me into your frets, strumming with tears as you wonder what went wrong. I wonder if I’ll ever see you on stage, tapping my feet to your drums as I sing along.

If I could write a song for you, it would be about how our love was so young, so stupid — about how I believed it was all so true.

Love,

Someone who still wishes for one more moment with you.