Spare me the stress

I had no intention of telling you. Because I don't want to get stressed about something not worth it. I wanted to tell you last night so you could say sorry and I could forget about it in the morning. I didn't.  I told you today. So instead  of the apology I was hoping for you wanted to explain that you didn't do anything wrong.

I guess nothing has really changed between us.

I shouldn't have told you. We were happy being label-less and without-definition. I could have easily passed off something like that because there's no "relationship" to be salvaged in the first place. I am not even sad anymore, knowing that we would never be happy together together. I'm just sad that we can't even be happy while being "label-less" together.

My words aren't worth anything though. We both know I'm using you. I shouldn't be one to talk. That's why I wasn't even mad. You were just supposed to say you're sorry, and we both would have moved on. But you didn't, so we didn't. And here we are, stuck between heaven and hell.

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This best summarizes our entire four-year relationship:

Good morning, haring araw.

I told myself I'm skipping summer. I wanted to spend less because I wanted to get that camera by June. But is it worth it? Who does that? Who skips summer?

Suddenly I find myself wishing I was somewhere else. Somewhere far. Somewhere not here.

I miss summer. Summer's my time, my season, my thing. I am summer personified. I am the morning's pink, yellow, orange and the night's blue, black, and red. I am the scorching sun piercing your skin. I am the sunflowers along the University Avenue. I am the endless nights of getting wasted. I am the rambutan falling from the tree. I am the waves that wash ashore. I am the sweet escape. I am not forever but I'm the one you never forget.