letter for blue

recently i have forgotten your birthday. i still remember your voice and the way you talk. i've made peace with my feelings. but sometimes you appeared in my dreams as both fantasy and nightmare. you're something i wish i could erase. yet here i am clinging onto the smallest thing like your smile that would never be intended to me. memories are deceitful, and i hope so. i hope it's my memories that betray me, that i am actually just a sick person and you're nothing but a halucination. so i could drink the medicine and be okay. perhaps it is not about you, perhaps you've unfortunately became a proof of something more tragic than pure. a door for the darkness that has existed in me since a long time ago.

it is pathetic how i froze whenever i saw a glimpse of your fractions in a crowd or when a stranger has your name, eventhough i knew it was not the real you. i have always known that loneliness takes half of my being. as if i am not 'me' if i do not have them. i have accepted that since a long time ago, and it no longer feels like a curse. this loneliness does not grow out of me, they grow with me. but i am not scared of being consumed by them.

i always try to hold my tight upbringing and avoid the irrational part of being human. but i knew it is within me, slipping out between the uncomfortableness of rules and obedience. of what is right. you made me want to experience something beautiful and vibrant. you were the one who opened it, i crossed it. i was doomed. eventhough i knew i did not deserve it, because i've already fallen for the devils' traps multiple of times. i was successfully lured in since i was a child with wild curiousity and fear. and therefore, i could never truly be a part of such clean thing. perhaps i was envious of you too. the strong strides you took, the way your hair bravely caressed by the wind. what a scene.

years later, i realize this is how i remember you: there is always something special with the vast blue sky, with how the sunlight burned my skin and the refreshing feeling of rain pouring in the middle of dry season. the dusts that wavered beneath every steps left some sort of traces. it was youth, it was you.

-3th letter