I guess there are no medications for goodbyes

My heart literally aches. I can’t bear goodbyes. I try to retrace how I did it before, but I just can’t remember. I don’t know how I remained sane during flight. I want to cry so bad but I know it wouldn’t help. It’s something that needs to be done. Like all the great things in life, it must come to an end. And the ending is nearing.

I try not to look back. I focus on the present. The future isn’t so pretty as well. That’s another thing on my mind. But if I even try to reminisce, I think my heart would bleed out. I refuse to revisit the memories. I can’t bear it. I don’t want to relive my first day here in Las Vegas, too early to give in to sleep. I refuse to review the photos and videos, of every second I spent regaining Thirdy’s trust, and every annoying memory Tobs and I shared in the short weeks I was here. I refuse to sort my phone photos, afraid to come face to face with my guts stumbling down. I remember it though, that very first photo. I took a selfie at the airport 5 weeks ago. It has been that long and I didn’t even realize it.

I wish I could go back. I wish I could stay here forever. But I wish I get to relive the 5 weeks I was here. I wish time stops right there and I could just live in the memory. I have established a routine and letting that go would be painful. How could I let go waking up and seeing my Mom in the Kitchen making breakfast, if she not already made one? She would re-heat the coffee she made earlier on because Tito Bener had to leave for work. I’d wake up with a knock on my door, which I knew it was from Thirdy, because Tobs would find a way to open the door. I’d see Thirdy and his amazing smile, or grin, while he devours on whatever food he has on his hand. I will never get his favorite baby songs out of my head. I’d imagine him making those squeaky noises, trying to sing along. I’d hear him stomp around the house, trying desperately to catch his brother. I will miss the many times Mom and I sat across from each other at the dining table, talking about boys and life. I wish I can take my Mom with me. I wish I can make her happy. But what breaks my heart even more is that I know my leaving will hurt my Mom way more than it would hurt me. I can’t bear to witness the sadness in her eyes. I don’t know how much pain I can take.

But you see, I have no choice. Time moves quite mysteriously. I don’t belong here and I have a life to put together back in the Philippines. Life that I fucked up from the previous year. I can’t escape that, no longer than the past 5 weeks.

Oh well.

I guess there are no medications for goodbyes.