And just like that, it was quiet again.
I was back to being alone
and the only thing I could listen out for was my heartbeat.
I had been easily taken by the idea that maybe you and I could see forever
and that maybe in my apprehension to accept your proposal in a haste
was just my intuition defending itself from the familiar.
But then I thought, why not?
Why not at least try giving a better part of myself despite the outcome?
Yet, every red flag led to the next
and I slowly became tired of always having to revert to being selfish
and always having to maintain my temperament
just because you couldn’t see godliness even if it fell from the sky.
I didn’t want to have to pretend
like I didn’t care what happened between us
just because we weren’t seeing eye to eye.
I couldn’t possibly imagine staying and then looking back at myself years later,
regrettably watching this very moment playing itself out over and over again.
I get it.
You saw that the only way we could survive was to lose me
so that you could find you again.
You did what was noble and honest and true and I to did what I had to.
To purge myself of vicious cycles and to always take painful memories as lessons,
because if there was anything I learnt from just watching you,
was that it isn’t enough to have an ocean of potential and not put any of it to use.
Baby, didn’t they tell you, those who claimed to love you, didn’t they tell you how great and capable and marvellous you are?
I guess life does happen in cyclones and tycoons and earthquakes.
Tragic yet awakening.
And perhaps in the next lifetime,
we’ll have an opportunity of reintroducing ourselves to one another
not as natural disasters
but as steady streams of love.