They say “Only time can tell,” so I’ve waited for God-knows-since-when. And I’ll keep listening to its ticking hands until then, hoping to be heard as my sigh whispers the unspoken words I should have said before. Words that my eyes screamed in silence.
We’re close enough to be open, but not welcome to cross the line. The kind of distance that blurs the margin of an end and a start. One that challenges “what if?” and “why not?” To be honest, I don’t know what’s there between us. But if I were to ask you this question, you’ll respond with an indefinite answer like you always do. After all, how can someone possibly determine what they chose to disregard?
Perhaps even if I could, I won’t. May it be the fear of realizing that what I thought is different from what we actually have, or the fact that I can’t call it anything yet, until everything is certain and figured out. That is, if there is. Other than self-respect, I’m not sure what else there is for me to keep. Because you can’t lose what you never had. Nothing’s gone when there’s actually none. And that’s what makes it painful: with or without hurts just as much.
As days passed and the sheets of the calendar thinned, the memory of this unresolved mystery echoes through the air we once breathed. As well as the shade of falling leaves that used to shelter us from the heat. And the setting sun that kissed our skin, glistening against the silhouettes of dusk, as the clouds slowly dimmed. So many details were vivid, yet none of it hinted at the unforeseen cut in the thickening plot of our narrative. Until distance paved its way, and the indifference fueled the flame of disappointment—burning the bridge we’re still crossing.
Now, stranded at the other end, I watch everything change, fading into the break of dawn. Every morning reminds me of those moments. From waking up early and going to school, except meeting you in the same room, like how I used to. I’m still boarding on the same ride that goes past your street, only that I get off at a different stop. You’re still on my mind—you’ve always been. Not that I haven’t moved on, I’m just lost in between.
Navigating this labyrinth leads me back to places I’ve been: confused and wandering. Unconsciously following the traces of familiarity. Just when I think I’ve found my way out, I always end up in the same spot where I left. Maybe I failed to notice the signs, just like how long it took you to realize about us. Only that mine is genuine, and yours is feigned.
With the utmost intent to surmount this ordeal, I'll redirect my steps towards the north instead of pacing back and forth, where I can see what lies ahead, and face the truth that one must let the past bury its dead. No looking back, just moving forward: steadfast and decisive. It's not giving up, or maybe it is? Nonetheless, it's for the best.
As my patience reached its limit, know that its virtue preserved the hope that there was while it lasted. May our memories be cherished, like how the sparks of the sky took hold of your eyes, under the same twilight we gaze upon. And if ever our paths cross again, may our eyes meet, and speak for ourselves about the unspoken words we held in our breaths. No regrets, just commitment to do better if ever given the chance. Sooner or later, who knows? Somewhere, someday— somehow.
Written by Kycer Agnes, Insight PH
Kycer Agnes, Insight PH is a dedicated campus journalist and contributor. Their insightful writing sparks meaningful conversations and keeps the community informed.
