That's My Heart There On My Sleeve

I still experience a sense of loss. I'm still mourning that guy who has ceased to exist.

I recall that last day when JD cheerfully announced that he had bought me shrimp cocktail. And he took the platter out of its bag to flaunt it. That was quite a change in scenery, considering I’m usually the one who goes out and buys us food.

That was so sweet. Something i’m not used to. Cos i never feel worthy.

But nothing could cheer me up that day. Not when I knew he didn’t want me around on Sunday. Not when it was our 8th breakup, even though, according to him, we had never made up to begin with, not when he “could never be there.”

How could he care more about me, when he scarcely cared about his own precarious life?

Later that night, I told him, “You know I’m seriously depressed when I walk out on TN.*”

It’s true. I liked and preferred the drunken JD. He was a lot more fun, and a lot more into me. Well, not toward the end. But still. It’s no wonder that to this day I miss that guy when i’m in a drunken stupor.

Just a habit of association.

"Even though we're best friends," he'd said. "We're detrimental to one another."

I'm paraphrasing. "Detrimental" is mine.

I’ve done my best to make him happy. And he, to the best of his ability, given his restrained capability, has tried his best. At the end, it didn’t matter what we did or how hard we’d tried.

It’s okay, I can face the facts. But Lord, i miss that guy.


*TN stands for Tasty Nourishments. It’s one of our private jokes, because sometimes I cannot pronounce “food” quite right.