(I know, I know that’s not your name. But it’s the only appropriate way of addressing you. Because sweet but common endearment that I throw around all the time is wasted on you, and it’s past the time when we still refer to each other with a trashy-but-cute nickname. Also calling you with your real name is out of the question because, though I may be a lot of thing, I am not tacky.
Not as tacky as her, anyway.
So, John. Because you are the John Constantine to my Elsa Bloodstone, always have been and always will be. And I will never be able to read anything involving them without my thoughts running off to you, even if just for a few precious second.)
It’s been a long time, isn’t it?
(No, it’s not. I know it’s not. I just peeked at the calendar and realized it hasn’t even been three months since that night when you practically gave up on us and then disappear without a trace the day after.)
(Well, not exactly without a trace. You left quite a trail of destruction, you know. From broken heart and trust to unhealthy habits and fucked up ulcer, you left quite a dent in this little life of mine.)
Anyway, I’m writing to you again because… it’s been admittedly quiet without you around. Calm and peaceful, yes, but it’s also too quiet and lonely without you. And I’d be lying if I say I’ve ceased to think of you and missing your presence. Though maybe I miss your presence more than I miss you, the point stands that you still – for better a worse – haunts me.
(It may or may not have something to do with the fact that someone made a move recently and, in a true Katy Perry fashion, “comparison is easily done when you’ve had a taste of perfection”. Suffice to say anyone
– aside from senpai, probably – pales in comparison to you. Not fair, Johnny boy, you raised the bar too high and set everyone else up to fail.
Although, to be honest, this whole debacle is quite funny and I haven’t see my friends so united in their opinion about someone since her and I think you’ll be laughing your head off if you were here with me right now.)
And today, well, today I have been listening to Coldplay’s Yellow on repeat.
And it fit us, don’t you think?
Because the stars does shine for you and everything you do, making you glow brighter than any other human being I’ve ever seen. You shine as bright as the sun and your gravity pulled me in, until my world revolved around you and it was near-impossible to live without you. Crippling, even.
So I wrote more than just songs for and about you. Because you were my muse, like the few others before you. But unlike with them, with you I fell so deep my thoughts were torrents of colloquy demanding to be let out. I probably wrote more words for you than for my final year project, and the better part of what I posted here for the last year is, well, about you.
(Some times I’m still baffled with how we managed to be friends, fell in love, broke up, and then went back to stranger in less than one year. But well, shit happens, right?)
And the things I did for you, Johnny boy. I didn’t just swam and jumped across for you. I bet my everything for a slim chance to be with you, I put all I had on the line for a glimmer of hope, and I went through sharknado for you. It is quite a wonder, the spell you put on me and how you made me fight for you to the last of my blood.
(I didn’t regret it, though. Not even the slightest. Because I choose to do so knowing full well I’m too good for you and prepared for all the pain. After all, our ephemeral reprieve does worth all those hell I went through for you. Such a shame you weren’t the glory that I eventually won at the end of the day, though.)
It is clear as day then, that I do love you so. No, scratch that. I did loved you so, Johnny boy. I no longer do at the moment, but what we had was a once in a lifetime and it left a permanent mark. Truth be told, you got an unfair edge over everyone else, for you are the standard that I’m holding everyone against.
(And, if I’m being completely honest, you will always have the ability to make me fall head over heels. Always.)
But, most importantly, I did bleed myself dry for you.
I’m not just talking about how much I sacrificed and what I went through for you. I’m talking about the broken heart and trusts and promises. About the suicidal and depression I slink into. About the unhealthy habits I picked up just to drown my sorrows and took my mind off of you. About the fucked up ulcer and ever-growing inability to be alone that I got as the aftermath of you. About everything I poured on you.
And about how at times, now, I felt like an empty shell because it’s getting harder for me to feel or sympathize with things. You stole my ability to care and be emotionally invested on people, Johnny boy. You took away all that I gave and…
You got me running on empty.
Admittedly though, it still is a better option than the unhealthy emotional roller coaster I’d be facing if you’re still mine.
You will always be my favorite “what if” and my best “I’ll never know”, though. My one and only Before Sunrise, and truth be told I might still yearn a little for our Before Sunset.
À la mort,
I hope you’re alive and well, Johnny boy.