Finally Leaving Home

He was my home --- the man who assured me that I can be whatever I want to be, the man who crazily believed in me and never doubted my potential, the man who I thought was strong enough to never get tired of my out of this world mood swings and tantrums.

He held up my universe as if nothing else mattered. He was the one I have loved the most. And I wanted to believe that he loved me, too. Because he told me so - in the random hugs he gave when he was mentally exhausted at 3AM, in the excitement of his voice whenever he shares his many plans for us, and in the way his beautiful, big eyes stare at me whenever he tells me how much he wants to marry me someday and give me the kind of wedding I have always dreamt of.

For so many years, I let my love for him consume me. And he also allowed me to suffocate him of my love in my own selfish ways.

We fight and we make up. We rebel with each other. And there would be times that we love and we hate each other at the same time. He was not the most patient guy in this universe but he would always go the extra mile to make me happy and endure driving for hours to take me to our favorite hideaway just to calm me and my anxious soul.

But my then immature self never understood what being in a relationship is all about. I would always call it quits and the cycle begins -- we break up and we get back again. We took a few pauses but guess, we were both crazy about each other that we keep getting back together. I must say, our endings were endless but fleeting.

I became so accustomed to our temporary endings and hearing goodbyes was not supposed to be painful anymore. But at that precise moment, his goodbye was the most deafening. Because he never said it. He just left. And on that one fateful December afternoon, the love I was once so sure was mine for all eternity slipped through our fingers.

I was then ridiculously self-assured that we were limitless and that he will go after me, just like always. But I was wrong. He never did. Guess it was the universe's way of telling me that even our endings has its ultimate end.

Believe me when I say, I tried to move on and went to unfamiliar places. Gathered the scattered pieces of my broken ego and tried to rebuilt myself. Went back to our usual spots and tried to make new memories without him. I welcomed fresh faces in my life but everytime I do so, I ended up searching for him in their eyes and I am once again lost, weak, insecure.

He was my sanctuary, my serenity, and my home.

Yet he found his new home. And he found it in you. Bet you already know by now how he routinely drinks his coffee with two (2) portions each of cream and brown sugar as soon as he wakes up in the morning, how he enjoys eating his McDonald's fried chicken with ketchup, how he loves sleeping inside the cinema house or how he would say he would just eat half cup of rice but always ends up finishing it all and would regret doing so.

I might be the girl he had his dreams formed. I might be the girl he had planned his future with. I might be the girl he considered as his best friend next to his dad. And the girl who knew all of his dirty little secrets.

I might not know you nor will I ever know your name but you would always be known to me as the future mother of his children, his sanctuary, his serenity and his new home.

And he can still have me - a vision of an unfulfilled promise, a past that one day will be forgotten, his once upon a time, his almost forever.

But you are with him now and you will have him in ways I could never have. Stay and don't ever leave him like I did.

And please, take care of my once beautiful home for me.