I finally swallow the truth.

An open letter to the boy I like but I was too late. 

Hello. You know that this is about you. Everything was goddamn about you. We were very close, though we started being friends through social media. An internet friend is a real friend, too.

I don’t know why it happened all of a sudden. I was fine before. Was it because, I finally met you in person? And it felt so good to talk to you in real life than through a screen? Well, yes. It is.

It wasn’t your intention to break my heart. The timing was just very wrong—even though I was the first one to break yours. Yes, I broke yours first. I hated you for liking me in such a short span of time, for asking me silly things and admitting that, in fact, you liked me. What was I supposed to do then? Tell you I love you? No. It doesn’t work that way, prince charming. I didn’t know you very well, and you can say the same about me at that time being. We were still strangers then. So, no, I didn’t reciprocate the love you gave. I threw it, because I was so unsure. I mean, who THE HELL were you?

But that all changed now. Years later, we finally met in an unexpecting way. Who knew? I though I’d never see you. It was good we remained friends, though. Close friends, to be honest. But, something in my heart clenched and my stomach swirled. What? What was it? I shrugged it off.

But, even when I jumped on my bed and layed there, you messaged me—”nice seeing you”—and I said the same. Wow, it really was SO NICE to see you. Because you are the boy whose heart I broke a few years back. I never did admit to you that I liked you, too, then. But it was just crazy; it felt like we were going too fast. So, yet again, I restrained myself at that time.

I’m really sorry if I didn’t give you a chance. And now I regret it. What if, somewhere at some point, I told you that I liked you too? Where would we be then? What ifs. They’ll torment you for the rest of your life.

So now, I accept my defeat. And my mistake. You have someone special in your life now, and I don’t want to interfere and ruin such connection. You deserve it after all the heartbreaks you experienced after me. I know I broke your heart intentionally, but you are breaking mine, too, right now, without knowing. And not because you wanted that.

It’s my fault I let you go. And I’m sorry. I’m glad we remain friends though and that means the world to me. You aren’t aware that I really like you now, but it’s better off that way. You deserve a peaceful and happy relationship. Until then, I wish you luck.



The broken sink.

A few weeks ago, I woke up around afternoon. It was a weekend, and I had no school. Usually, when I wake up in the afternoon, I directly take a bath to keep myself fresh and afterwards I would have a late lunch.

But that afternoon when I woke up, I saw something unusual in our bathroom. I was about to take a bath when I saw the sink, where I brush my teeth, was broken. Or shattered; but not wholly—I would say at least 1/2 of it (the photo of the broken sink can be seen below). Along with that, I saw a note left by my dad. Which was weird, because he does not like leaving notes unlike my mom.

What made me forget about the broken sink was the content of the letter/note. He said he was sorry, and that he would replace what he broke. Why? Because my dad never liked saying sorry that much. He usually takes pride in what he says. But I felt happy because he took the chance to say sorry so he won’t upset us—especially my mother. I know hearing something like having your dad breaking the sink is a funny story, I mean, it is. But I didn’t think of the situation like that. Not at first.

Because of the small gesture my dad did, it melted my heart. It made me feel overwhelmed and it kind of made me teary-eyed (yes, I’m THAT emotional). I think what’s important is that sometimes we get too caught up in our own problems with others that we tend not to be rational. I think usually it’s not important if the person makes it up to you for their mistakes—what’s important is how the person says sorry and you feel as if they mean it. Sometimes, it’s true; saying sorry can make things okay.

No, I did not need for my dad to fix the sink for me to forgive him. I’m not even bothered that he broke it (well, mainly, because I can still use it). It’s because I forgot for a while that he even broke it because he owned up to his actions—a thing he does not normally do (not in any way that I understand, though. Usually he would own up to his actions by doing something else for you without you even knowing that that’s his way of saying sorry. My dad isn’t really showy).