Dear Y

Dear Y,

I used to think that pain is the worst feeling – the pain of being hurt by someone you love, the pain of being left in the end, or the pain of finally having to let you go.

But I was wrong.

No matter how many times I replay our conversations in my head, or how many times I stuff chocolate ice cream into my tummy; I cannot feel anything anymore. The tears won’t flow out, and the heart refuses to feel. I’ve become numb.

It’s funny to think that there was a time when all I wanted to do is to love you, to sleep with you at night and wake up with you in the morning, and the happiest moments happened when I was with you. It’s funny to think that I let our love grew so easily, only to watch it wither in the end. I mean – what’s the point?


Dear Y,

Where did all our dreams go? I came to a point where I was sure they’re all unreal. Not fake, just some illusions. There were times when we thought we were really in love with each other, and the world would become us.

Did we really love each other? Does “love each other” also mean “hurt each other” then? Because that’s what we did all those times. We loved and hurt each other so much that we couldn’t feel anything in between anymore. And now, after the love and hurt fade away, I am trapped in the middle, with no feelings to sense.

Loving you and hurting you were like having wet dreams and nightmares at once; the silly thing was I didn’t even want to wake up because I knew that every nightmare would be continued with the happy one, and the good ones were so good that I forgot they would be followed by the bad ones. I hated that I loved you, but in the same time I also loved the hurt you made me feel. I guess I was kind of addicted to pain you caused me – because they made me able to feel something in the end.

And then I woke up – only to find that all we ever had before was unreal, and so easy to fade away. Hence I thought, what kind of love that is so easy to be forgotten? What kind of love that makes the lovers feel relieved when they are finally out of it? What kind of love that leaves the lovers numb in the end? The answer I found was hilarious: it is the love that’s not worth fighting for.

Does my answer seem funny to you? Do you think I’m wrong about it? If so, then why are we like this, separated by oceans and skies and not bothering to talk to each other? Are we finished with loving each other, or are we satisfied with causing each other pain? Because I’ve told you that pain is not the worst feeling – it’s numbness.


Dear Y,

What will we do next? Are you finally able to move on from us? What would we tell our children and grandchildren – if someday we had one? That once in a time, their mom or dad, or grandmother or grandfather, ever loved someone but finally lose the ability to love in the end? Should we tell them that not every love story ends happily? That feelings could fade, and the remaining memories are not always worth remembered?

We didn’t fight for our love, did we? Or we did, but failed? You know I never believed in fate or destiny. I don’t blame it on anyone or anything. What we had will remain as it was. Happy or sad, love or pain, leave them be. We can do nothing about it, just like I could feel nothing about it anymore.


Dear Y,

Leave them be. Our love is in a place we can’t reach anymore – it’s in the past. We only carry the memories, and only memories will not suffice. Even love alone won’t be enough forever. There’s something meant for us along the way. We didn’t meet by coincidence (told you I also don’t believe in coincidences), and we didn’t love by coincidence. Somehow, somewhere in the past, we were meant to love each other – but it’s in the past, yet we live in the present, and we still have the future to live for.

It doesn’t mean that all we had was unreal (although I’ve said so somewhere in this letter), because somewhere in our life, we believed it was real, and I think it’s good enough. Our love was, once, real. But “real” doesn’t mean “has to last forever”, does it? Anyway, we don’t live in a children’s storybook, where all stories end with “…and they live happily ever after”. In our life, there will always be something to learn, something to move on from; and our story is just one of them. There’s nothing to regret, because all was beautiful once.


Dear Y,

Good bye.





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