You greeted me on my birthday.
I didn’t know because Whatsapp had been uninstalled from my phone for three months now… I tell people I have privacy concerns, but in actuality, it’s because it reminds me too much of you. The conversations that start at midday and end at four past midnight, the endless jests, you accidentally calling me “mommy” that one time, me getting annoyed because you kept calling me “child”.
You wished me well in your greeting which left me feeling a surge of affection for you; nostalgia for a relationship that seemed illusory on my end but might’ve actually been something real.
I remembered why it had to end. Now that I’m 25 will I finally be old enough for you? Will I no longer be out of place in your circle of friends? In your tight knit family? It was my age that held you back, am I one degree more worthy now that I’m a year wiser?
You’ve read Dante in elementary school and thus you know ‘amor ch’a nulla amato amar perdona’. I had asked you to translate this for me, though I already knew what it meant:
love which compels whoever is loved to love in return.
This was my way of telling that I remember everything, and I still long for what could’ve been. I long for you to know the magnitude of how I still feel for you, and how much I hope that there are still remnants within you too.
You evaded the request, but in turn asked me to listen to ‘Apocalypse’ by Cigarettes After Sex. How odd and unwarranted it seemed, but as I came to realize, you wanted to send a message too.
“Got the music in you baby, tell me why
Got the music in you baby, tell me why
You’ve been locked in here forever and you just can’t say goodbye.”
(Featured photo is the Chao Phraya, 2019)