A night has passed after I lost him. Once more, a glimpse of glimmer from my eyes can be seen. Subtle light from the kitchen enters my room. Illuminating the rivers of sadness that are being pulled by gravity.
I hugged my pillow and cried some more. A silent witness to my present forlorn. It was after seeing his picture in my laptop that gave me that disdain feeling. I mustered the courage to look at his picture. He is wearing sando showing his skinny physique coupled with an awkward look on his face, an obvious stolen shot from his housemates. A plate of rice smothered with dinuguan in the foreground with his face illuminated by the morning light from the jalousie window.
I miss him.
That was the only thing in my mind. No, I don't miss his presence. But instead, I miss the feeling that everything I do is for him. I miss that gratifying feeling of accomplishment in my tasks because he will never be proud of me.
I wetted the keyboard with that thought.
Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!
Realization: I lost him though he was never mine.
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