A Trail of Broken Hearts

I have decided not to tell her. The fact that I am placing these thought in writing is supposed to be a reminder that I cannot go back on this promise to myself and also as a silent one to her.

She doesn’t know who she is, no one besides myself and a select few know the identity of this woman who haunts me through every waking moment and also in my dreams. It hurts like the dickens now, it will continue to hurt. Be it a few days, a few months, God help me, even a few years.

There is too much at stake that I cannot be so damned selfish and seek this form of closure. I will live down these consequences. There is much that I will lose if I go through with this and precious little to gain.

She isn’t ready to hear this from me. And strangely, I don’t blame her. The signs were all there. How could I have been so blind to that? Maybe neither am I. I barely know her. What about her captivates me so? I have no answer.

It is with a heavy heart that I close this chapter of my story. I hope this could be reopened in the future, but for now, all I can do is to straighten up move on and dream of what might have been. The least that can happen now is if we can stay friends.

We don’t have to be a couple. We don’t have to be an item. I can be civil. I can keep myself from cracking. All I want is to be near, to see her happy, hear her out when she is unhappy, take some punches when she is angry.

That will be enough.

Funny how I reach for a rose and all I get are thorns.