in my royal throne

back to my favorite chair.
maybe should name my blog “the private throne” since i always end up writing my entries here.

do i miss you?
i am listening to “habang buhay kitang mamahalin” by vst.
do i feel something?
yes. i remember the times that you used to sing to me in the videoke. over a cheap pitcher of alcohol, drowning our clothes over cheap smoke. i remember your sidewards gaze, the way you would teasingly smirk. i remember the clashing of the balls, the shrieks of the young college girls and the ruckus of the young college boys.
we were so young then. perhaps we didn’t know better.
i shouldn’t think that i still love you.
i watched our videos, hoping the strength i learned from the gym would equate to the strength i need.
i stared at it blankly. i laughed at the same time i laughed in the video, winked at the times i know i winked. i knew the smell of the scene, when and how it started. but as the video ended, and the film would halt in to you staring directly at the camera, with that smile that holds a secret, the feeling stopped too. it would just remain a memory.
did it hurt?
not that much.
the song’s done. my party shuffle plays burn by usher.
i listen long enough.
maybe this is your song for me.
hmm.
maybe not. i know you don’t want me back.
time is not really healing my wounds. wounds would always leave a scar. a scar that i am proud to carry.
a scar that shouts i have loved well.
time has merely made me numb. numb enough to believe i don’t love you anymore.
i’m glad you never wore perfume. i’m sure it would have made me look back or find the scent through the crowd. but i have never done that.
my head swirls from the cigarette. i hate marlboro lights.
i take a good look at my body. this was the body that i would have wanted you to see, the body that we have planned together.but you never saw it.
do i feel sorry for myself?
no. i am proud for what i have achieved.
and that’s a start.
from planning my life until 10 years from now, i got to start with one day at a time again. one simple day at a time.
i still love you but not that much.
got to flush now.

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Author: angparaluman

a poster girl with no poster staying on the safe side of the road less traveled.

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