It is afternoons like this, that I wish sometimes I could rearrange the stars in a way that made more sense. For instance, I would make it look like Pisces fell out of Aquarius’ water pot. And while I am at it, I would have Ursa Major comically chase a desperate fleeing Orion, just to see you smile. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t.
Just as much, I wish I could by some sort of telepathic impulse coerce your hand into reaching out to hold mine, charm you into giving me a fond embrace without apparent reason or persuade your arms to have a sudden need to be around my neck and your lips to have the helpless desire to kiss my own (With how inexpensive kisses are, how hard is it to shout me up with one them?), tempt your body into wanting me right there and then, or sway your dreams to include me on your fantasies, ‘woo’ you into wanting to share your spare time with me, court your weekend plans around us, inspire you to ask how my day was or lure you to send me a caring message just because; but just as I am sadly incapable of rearranging the stars, I can’t make you love me.
It is true that you don’t look at me the same way, I hug you and I don’t feel your warmth; but I have no grievance to make here, that is how love works, just as it comes one day, it maybe gone the next. I knew that coming in.
Exercising the short list of things that I am capable of doing, I owe it to myself to show you one last time how much I cared for you and ‘show you’ I have, giving up along the way a little bit more than what I bargained for. I can now go in peace knowing that this time around, it was not up to me.
I will now turn around and walk away before the afternoon ends, and before even walking away from you becomes as impossible as rearranging the stars or getting you to love me. Someone has to do it, it is probably best that it be me.
It has been a pleasure to coincide with you during this span of time. I wish you the best this world has to offer, as you deserve no less. There is no need for an apology, there is really nothing to forgive. If there is anything that I can ask from you is for you to go out there and by all means posible, please, have an exceptinal life.
I wasn’t good at it but I did love you.
Armando
P.S You once asked me about pain - why chose the possibility of pain, over the certainty of no pain. Perhaps nobody chooses pain; perhaps it is just happens to be, involuntarily, the byproduct of something worth doing; perhaps it is not. The truth is that without pain we can not feel the harm we inflict on other people.