[it’s where you could find me when you couldn’t find me anywhere else]

broken pieces

i miss my barkada. it’s been so long since our last get-together. it was last summer, i think. anyway, should i really miss them? or am i just hallucinating? am i just feeling a sentiment that’s so out of this world now? am i just thinking that i’m feeling it? or what?

anyway, i think it’s so stupid of me to feel this way. i’m longing for a friendship that was never built. hoping for a reunion when we were never united in the first place. perhaps i’m reminiscing moments that never happened. or i’m just holding on to fragments of false memory.

and now, all that’s left are broken pieces. i’d do everything to take them back and glue them together. but hell, these pieces are being picked up by them. being thrown away. being forgotten.

now just shards of broken dreams. of broken promises of not letting go. of paralyzed high fives and forgotten secret salutes. all that remained are prayers and wishes that someday somehow things would be like how they used to be.

like how they used to be? like them backfighting a supposed-to-be-friend and telling absurd stories about her? like them wearing an angelic mask while doing devilish deeds? like them digging up old issues and trying hard to relate them to present?

oh please. maybe i don’t want them anymore. maybe i don’t really miss them. and i don’t really want to be their friend. ’cause right now, they’re all tormenting me. they’re all killing me. they’re all being antagonists in my peaceful story.

i hate this part of the story when i badly wanted to mend broken pieces but they scatter them farther and farther away. i hate it when i feel so helpless and the people i treat as friends are the ones causing my distress. i hate it when i really wanted to give up but there’s still one strand of hope that everything would be fine.

damn it. someone please tell me that it’s actually over. i don’t wanna waste my time crying over things that would never be rewritten and done all over again.

and i guess missing my barkada is the most inappropriate feeling in the world right now.

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