>it’s about you… AGAIN.

>I’ve talked about you again. Twice. Though I promised myself and to God that I will never talk about you again (but only with Him, of course), I had to. Those two people who asked me deserved to know about you. The first, was because I was obliged to do so. And the second was, because she’s one of the few who knew about us ever since.

Sharing about you again makes me feel uneasy. Maybe because you’re already an old chapter that should have been completely forgotten. Or a beautiful nightmare that I was allowed to experience. T’was difficult to open up an old wound. The pain’s not there, of course. But the memories of how I got that wound, how stupid I was to get that wound if I could have avoid it in the first place… And I believe you’re not even worth of my time. Since you’ve already kicked me out of your life… by force.

It’s a daily struggle though to pretend that I don’t see you. Or if I do, pretend that I don’t know you. Or we’re simply just not friends. Sometimes I do wonder, that whenever we get the chance to talk or joke around, do you still remember that we even become friends. Or if you even remember what happened last year when we had THAT conversation. Sometimes I do wonder, if THAT day would still ever come that we can even be friends again just like before. But a lot of times, I give up on that. I do not hope anymore, unlike before.

I’m okay with how we are right now. I don’t mind if we don’t talk or hang-out in the same circle. It’s better to be like this – safe, and unknown to everyone (okay, maybe they know but I just don’t care) what we’ve gone through. Sometimes it’s still difficult, ‘coz I know that it’s not right that i’m feeling this indifference with you (or trying to). But this is what I know that is right for now. Complicated, yes. But that’s how it is to be.

They asked me if there’s anything that happened between us before. I don’t know how to answer that. I can’t even label our relationship – if we’re friends, close friends, special friends or just simply co-worker. Maybe it’s just me? Or maybe there’s something? I don’t know. I just want to have a quiet life, and hopefully this will be the last time that I will talk about you again.

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