Gone with Regrets

As you died, part of me was gone, too.

It sounds so much of a cliché, but it is beyond true. I am now a different person than I was when you were around. Everybody says so, and I couldn’t agree more. A huge part of me left as you did. That part left me a person I am now. A person I don’t even recognize. A stranger to myself.

You were part of me. You were my partner, mentor, best friend. You were whatever I needed you to be. You were always there for me. It was always you. Not my sister, not my parents. It was you.

But I was so selfish that I wanted more. I wanted you to be more than my partner, more than my best friend. I wanted you. It was inevitable. We spent too much time together, much to my liking. It was a torture—for you didn’t know how I truly felt about you in those times we’d spent together, but it was sweet at the same time. It was a beautiful agony.

I regret never telling you how I really felt about you. I never forgive myself for that. Because now this feeling is kept within me forever. I never want to share it with anyone, because it is forbidden. If there was anyone I wanted to share it with, it would be you. It would have been you.

Until now, I cannot even describe that feeling I had about you. Attachment? Definitely not. Crush? Sounds so juvenile. Love? Close enough, but I’m not so sure. It's kinda funny to see so many youths claiming they have found their true love, while I, in my early thirties, still don’t know what love is. Hell, I don’t even know if it really exists.

And that day came. The day I so badly want to forget, but deep down I know I cannot just let go with it. You said goodbye to me before heading back home. Had I known what would happen next, I wouldn’t have let you go. That day I saw you differently. You looked so vulnerable, in contrast to your real strong self. I saw your eyes. They were full of spirit, but they were telling me that you already surrendered. I am no religious person, but that day I found myself praying to whoever up there, whoever might be laughing at that time seeing me do something I rarely ever did before.

I saw that moment. The moment life slowly left your body, leaving it as an empty shell. I did not cry, though, much to my surprise. I attended your funeral dry-eyed, much to my amazement. What I did not know was what would happen to me shortly thereafter. Even without me crying, people could see that among all of people you knew, I was the most devastated. I wanted to deny it but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I did whatever they told me to do. I didn’t argue when I was put on a personal leave. I might have needed it after all.

Then there were some changes in me. I hardly ever laugh now. I hardly speak without necessary. I hardly go out. I prefer spending my time at my quiet apartment, reading books, doing paperworks. For more than once I find myself with my laptop, just to keep myself busy and avoid idles. I sighed when I was assigned a new partner. I don’t need it. I prefer working with those computers to humans. But as usual, I did not argue. My new partner probably reckons that I am a cold bitch. I even admit that I am. We hardly talk outside work. We hardly even look into each other’s eyes. It is easier for me to talk to people without looking into their eyes…after you.

And the most prominent, I've stopped smiling. I never smile again. Not even to myself, because I know the only person who deserved to see me smile was already gone. The last time I smiled was when you said your last goodbye. I do not regret stopping smiling. Smiling does nothing to me but torture. It reminds me how I shouldn’t have let you go. I could have prevented you from dying. But I did nothing. I blame myself for letting you die and I do not regret blaming myself. Sometimes all you can do is thinking how much of a jerk you are to ease the pain.

One thing that never changes is the fact that I never stop thinking about you. I never even try. When I do my job, I do it because of you. When I talk to people, I do it because of you. I know you wouldn’t want to see me like this but the selfishness in me takes control over myself. And much to my surprise I do not regret it. I need everything to be different after you.

All of it finally leads to one point. Even though I was unsure at first—and still am, kind of—I come up with one conclusion. I regret not realizing it sooner. I regret concluding it after all is said and done. I regret never telling you. Part of me left me with regrets. I regret almost everything when it comes to you. Almost. One thing I never regret is the conclusion that I was in love with you.