The Essence of Me

Summer’s long over and yet, these past few days I am reminded of summer. Maybe because my mind keeps going back to University Avenue, where, during summer, endless rows of sunflowers look up to the sky and shyly kiss the sun. Sunflowers remind me of summer. The sunflowers are no longer there, replaced by another type of flower, perhaps one that can survive the rainy days. I wish I am less like the sunflower and more like those that survive the rainy season. I wish I am more resilient, stronger, tougher… because I can see only dark clouds looming ahead.

I have a very good memory. Friends always find it endearing that I remember birthdays, anniversaries, conversations… what they don’t know is that my memory is my greatest enemy. If I remember good times, the bad times are etched more deeply into the regions of my brain. I recall pain easier than I recall joy. I remember agony more frequently than I remember happiness.

You tell me that I dwell too much on the past and waste my time agonizing over things already said and done. You are right. But it’s hard to forget if the present is related to the painful past. It’s hard not to reopen old wounds when right in front of me, history is repeating itself. It’s hard not to feel pain, when deep in my heart I know I am already part of your history, because I have served my purpose. I have become nothing more than a number.

Stupid me. You made me feel like I was something special, and I believed it. I believed that I am someone worth loving, worth caring for, worth staying for. I became confident that I hold your heart in the palm of my hand, and I jealously guarded that treasure. Then, you took it back… and gave it to someone else.

All that I believed in evaporated into thin air, and right now, I am nothing but a shell… empty inside. I do not blame you. It was my fault. I didn’t see myself for what I truly am… nothing. That you ceased to love me shouldn’t have come as a surprise to me. That you loved me in the first place, that should have been a surprise.

I apologize if I ruin your everyday with my melancholy. I hate myself for this. It is enough that I am unhappy, I do not wish to make you unhappy, too. I try to hide my sadness, but it devours me. I don’t even recognize myself anymore when I look in the mirror… my eyes look so dead. So unlike the old me.

I wish I could forget. I wish I could remember the wonderful days and not the unhappy ones. I wish I could recall not the pain, but the joys you have brought into my life. I wish I could bring you sunshine again, just like I used to.

I wish to be alive again.