We are all taught that girls are the ones who needs saving. That we are the fragile, weak ones, That days of rain would soak us to the bones. Two years ago, I believe that too.
And two years ago, I want you to save me.
Do you know the saying that goes like “You don’t realize the value of what you have until it’s gone”? I have never paid attention to it, though.
I wish I did.
If I could turn back that last two years, I would go back to that day you made me promise, and I would promise you my whole, battered being because that’s what you want. I asked you what it’s like to be with me, and you told me it’s like seeing the world in a magic carpet. I laughed because I know that magic carpets aren’t real.
And I swear that I would give up all my pride that day, and answer you when you asked me the same question twice. Being with you is like having no senses yet I am able to perceive the world as it is. I wish you knew that. You complete me, and I pushed you away because I am an alien to being absolutely whole.
You have tried your best to save me, and I want you to know that you succeed.
If I could turn back that last two years, I wouldn’t force you out of our little apartment in the wee hours of the night just because I believe that you can’t understand me, when in fact I am the one who can’t understand myself.
If could turn back that last two years, I wouldn’t let you drive your car and go away.
If I could turn back that last two years, I would’ve followed you, and tell you I’m sorry.
But I can’t do it. I didn’t do it. And it’s one of those moments that break me time after time after time. It’s been two whole years.
Tomorrow, I shall visit your grave.