Why Two Broken People Are Never Capable Of Loving Each Other

When I close my eyes and darkness eats up my system, my eyes could not see, but my mind still keeps flashing that beautiful face of yours—repetitively, inconsolably, and I know, it’ll be just another long night for me. On nights I can’t sleep, I have to cry myself to be able to do so until I’m all dried up, and there is nothing left for me to shed. For on those nights I’m up all night, it’s you that’s been constantly bugging me. Your smile, your eyes—everything about you, actually.

I miss you. I miss the sound of your voice. I miss your bubbly smile. I miss the sparkle in your eyes. I miss them because they’re because of me. But now, all I see are fuming anger and pain. That pain I see in you is my last resort, my only hope, that you’re still the you that I know; that we could start over again. I miss you, and it bothers me that you probably don’t feel the same way. I miss you for I know that I lost you already.

Here I am regretting those days I turned you down, refreshing the wounds they left my heart. I can’t hold on to you, with you. You’re just as broken as I am, and we thought that being together would make us whole again. But we only destroyed each other more. I needed to let go for I know you won’t, because you still do not understand. I can’t fix you; I can’t when I can’t even fix myself neither. We forgot to remind ourselves that two broken individuals could not always be whole together. They could still be together, and remain broken on their own.

There was something unexplainable in us, and it may be love, but it may also be not. The pain that wrapped our hearts blinded us both. The desperation to get ourselves out of agony robbed us the choice to choose not to be together. We both wanted desired to be happy again for we both think we deserve to be one. And we do, but maybe not yet, or maybe not with each other. The excitement took away our fear to let someone else in our lives again. Perhaps, that’s what gave us away—we were both fearless, we haven’t thought of the endless possibilities and impossibilities.

You’re beautiful for you are full of flaws you are not scared to let me see. You’re too beautiful that it scared me. That’s what took all my bravery away. It scared me that you’re just as beautiful as him. Then it hit me—you remind me of him so much. The feelings you make me feel—the bolt I feel when you touch my skin, the racing heartbeats whenever I know you’re around, the smile you put on my face whenever you joke around—are mere imitations of how I used to feel when I was with him.

When we met, a broken heart is what bounded us with each other; it was our common ground. In hope to be fixed, and to be whole again, we took the risk. The broken hearts we have before we met only became more broken—the lost hope shattered our already shattered hearts. I have longed to wipe away the tears she caused you, but I only placed more on your face. It hurt me, but I have to do it. I can’t keep making you feel loved, when I am not even sure if it is love that I am feeling. You wanted assurance, and I am sure as hell that I couldn’t give you that. You deserve someone who could give you that. I don’t deserve you.

I feel the heat in the corners of my eyes, and I know it is only the beginning of another long night. I regret hurting you, that I almost wished we haven’t met for I hate myself seeing you more lifeless than you used to be. I am no different than her—I took away the sparkle in your eyes, too. We can’t be together for we were both unsure. We mistook our comfort to be something else, for we were both longing to feel an intimate affection again. We wanted to forget. We needed each other, which is why we stayed together. But now, we have to accept that a damaged person may not always be repaired by another damaged person. For sometimes, the person who caused us the pain is the only person who could take it away, too. But if even them could not, we only have ourselves to do the repair.

I miss us, but that us has already been lost—and probably, it is not coming back; it could not be brought back. I hope that one day I no longer have to cry myself to sleep, and lose myself in our little flashbacks. I wish that one day you’d finally understand why I needed to stay away. We are both unready, and we will be unable to give ourselves to someone unless we’re both whole again. I miss you—I guess I will always do for I know that what we have—and what we lost—has no repeat. While here I am sleepless writing this, I hope you are sleeping tight. Thank you for making my life bright in such a short time.