December

It was pouring outside. Good thing I brought my trusty umbrella, that of the same hue as my backpack. So here I am sitting near the bus window (a usual thing since the day I knew how to travel alone) with a venti cup of cappuccino he and I picked up at a coffee shop before accompanying me to the bus stop, in between my cold hands. It was after boarding the bus and seeing him turn his back from me and go that it sank to me that it really was over. We are over. Or no. I’ve finally decided after countless debates between myself and this talkative thing in my head; that from now on every thing him-related is automatically a no-no, I must say. My mantra: you always have a choice— in its true form, yes. I quickly sent my friend an SMS to tell her that she won; she’s in a way right that maybe his invitation to the party might count for closure and yes, more closure for the two of us. I was hesitant to go at first but I finally gave in for the fact that maybe, just maybe my friend’s right. Or that maybe I was expecting something nice or or, ughh, I don’t know. False hope, way bad. The bottom-line is, I did go to the party, for whatever reasons I have that which I cannot put into words.

So back to me sitting by the bus window. Flashbacks of his actions made me think that he just invited me to the now-it-seems-to-me-effing party was mainly because he wanted to drop bombs, destroying the thin and near to none connection between us. Most of the time, those bombs (which I’d rather not mention what) are dropped by him in a way that it would explode right at my face. Too showy with an air of fabrication, which led me to think that he consciously did it just to see my reaction. Too bad for him, I did screen my thoughts and shut my mouth well this time, fighting the urge to interrogate and at the least, blurt out what’s on my mind. Having to ace hide and seek games during my childhood pays off sometimes, eh? I would have said what a conceited liar he is. But maybe his doings are signs that I have to go and leave everything regarding him behind.

It’s cold and hell yeah, I feel like my body’s flat on ice. It was a pain in the ass that lingered for a while, but hey, I couldn’t be more thankful. I just had the answer to one of the most mind-boggling questions in my life.

Promptissime finitur ut coepi. It ends as quick as it started.

Decembers by Hawthorne Heights