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I wish I could tell you how scared I am, how worried and insecure
and I tell them that sometimes it’s not about whether it’s worth it,

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but about whether you’re willing to go through all those frustrations,
and disappointments, and bouts of doubt all over again. Because I’ve

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gotten accustomed to loneliness, and I’m afraid that I am starting to
spiral back into that familiar loneliness, just because you’re out of

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touch, and I don’t know how to reach you. I wish I didn’t feel this
way, because it’s the most rotten feeling in the world. This is one of

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those moments when you just wish people just left other people alone
from the start, instead of like this. Because like this, I am running

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through my mind everything we’ve shared and looking for clues on where
it started going wrong, or if I’d said something I shouldn’t have, when

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the truth is, it may have nothing to do with us. But I wish I could just
close my eyes and will myself to stop hoping you’d come to me at this

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instant and explain it, because I’m sure there has to be a perfectly
good explanation and it will make sense when you tell me.  What really

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terrifies me is that I may be standing, oblivious, on the line where
everything actually ends, and there will be no explanations, no sense,

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not even a goodbye.

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Footnote: This lines style was a takeoff from one of Maxine Syjuco’s (a.k.a. the Madonna of Philippine Poetry) poems from the book A Secret Life. This is NOTHING compared to what she can do when she writes in this format; but for a first attempt I’m proud of it. 😉

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