You know what, you’re such a selfish bastard. Why do you always have to make youself the victim in every situation? No matter how small it is and no matter how light the situation is, it’s always you who is the forsaken one, it’s always you who was being bullied. Because of this, there are times that I really regret the fact that I even took your side.

I don’t know why I’m even writing this, and seriously writing about it too. It’s probably because I couldn’t bear keeping it anymore. It’s become too painful to bear and I need to throw it out somewhere. This might be the first and last time I’m going to say anything about all this. Just for the sake of a peace of mind. Or maybe, deep down I wanted you to read this.

You probably do not know this, and I really doubt that you’d found out unless I tell you but, that time, I didn’t cry because I don’t want you anymore. I did because I know that when I do, you would stay. And it’s not because you wanted to, rather, it’s because you would pity me. You’ve always been that sort of person who would rather sacrifice his own happiness for another. I know, because I’ve seen you do that so many times that it makes me want to run you over with a car to wake you up to reality. But because I know how you feel, I couldn’t really do anything but watch you from the sidelines and pity myself too, for being helpless. But at the same time, I’m irritated by the fact that there are always tons of ways to overcome something, but, despite all of it, you always choose to see yourself as the victim, in the end.

Do you remember that time when you told me that I seem to understand you and how you feel even though you don’t try to say anything or even explain something to me? It’s not because I’m a very mature and understanding person. It’s probably because we are the same. I found myself accepting you whole heartedly because I also feel the same. We were like two fallen angels, kicked out or heaven, stripped out of our wings and licking each other’s wound. And to be frank, you can’t even call that pathetic bond, “friendship.”

That fateful day when I jumped in front of you while the bullet is traveling lightning fast straight to your heart and died, I wanted to make it clear that didn’t jumped in out of impulse. I did it because I wanted to save you. Even though the time it took for me to decide seemed faster than a millisecond, to be honest, it took me more or less two weeks worth of time to sort things out and think of the situation that if there would come a time that a bullet would be shot at you, would I jump in to save you from the pain of dying or would I just watch you be shot in front of me while I would pretend to be sad and shed fake tears to comfort you and ease your pain while you bleed. And as you could see, I arrived at that conclusion that I would save you no matter what. I simply did something that I have decided on doing long before the situation actually happened, so I was quick to react.

I tried my best to save you that time thinking that after I died, you could have the remaining half of my wings. You could use that wing to replace one of your torn ones so you could have two again and you would finally be able to fly freely back to heaven. Please don’t make me regret giving up my life for the sake of your freedom. And please don’t let me hear you saying something like “you never really wanted that freedom nor my left wing” because I gave up a lot just to give you that.

I do want you to be happy, but there’s a part of me that is irritated by the fact that it seemed like what I did was never really worth anything.

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  1. Ellumbra,
    It’s metaphorical, dear, you are correct. Thank you for visiting. I chanced upon your site earlier and went ahead reading your poems. I love your poetry. They’re all beautifully written.

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