Chapter 1: 1.0: who left versus who stayed
It was very easy to say that you love someone. Even if you don’t mean it. Because you’re the only one who can tell otherwise if you really love someone or you’re just fooling yourself.
But what happens when you, yourself, you don’t even know what you feel?
And if you have two choices: leaving and staying. What would you choose? For me, I will choose staying. But what happens when it’s necessary for you to leave so the other one can feel a lot better?
At the end of this day, I still don’t know what to choose.
It was snowing that day. My hands are on my leather jacket to feel a little warm. I haven’t felt the warmth of the sun for a while now. I almost forgot what it felt like.
I've always wanted to be the person who stays. I don't want to leave someone behind because I know what it feels like. I’ve always been left behind.
Can you imagine how fast time flies? Your friends in high school that used to help you with your assignments are now getting married one by one. They’re having their own families now with their loved ones.
But I can’t imagine myself being married to someone who isn’t him.
I stared at the night sky with tears in my eyes. “What did I do to deserve that?” I asked.
I wanted to stay but I ended up being the one who left. I can’t even think about other choices before. Because I have to do it for both of us. Because in the end, no matter what happens, I have to leave. Even if I don’t want to.
“Twinkle twinkle, little star. . . How I wonder what you are? Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky. . .” I sang as my tears started falling.
A shooting star suddenly appeared. I closed my eyes and wished for something.
“I wish I could turn back time. . .” I whispered.
The moon was following me as I walked through the dark night, under the bright stars that anyone can’t count.
How is he?
“He’s getting married, Lynelle,” my best friend Monica informed me after traveling from the Philippines to the country I’m staying now.
I folded my clothes before sighing heavily. “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t care about him?”
She looked at me with pity. “If you say so.” and shrugged. “You aren’t gonna ask me what’s his fiancee’s name?”
I didn’t answer, I don’t want her to worry about my own feelings. I have to lie about it. I already told them many times that I’ve moved on.
“Lynelle, stop hurting yourself,” she says with a worried tone. “Why don’t you try?”
“I left him first, Monica,” I avoided her gaze. “And he left too. Didn’t even chase after me.”
“The wedding will be held here in Iceland, Lynelle. It’s your last chance.” She ignored what I said. “He’s marrying our friend Laurel next week. I’ll be there with you. Tell me when you’re ready.”
“I’m not going.”
“You’re going whether you like it or not!”