Descartes- "it is prudent never to trust completely those who have deceived us even once"

That particular guy,

Hello. How are you? Do you remember the first time we met, that particular spot at that restaurant? That We had been on that spot twice? Do you remember our first convos? I remember your twinkling eyes, your laugh, your smile, that boyish smirk of yours, and that particular look you gave me after we kissed-don't even think that I didn't notice. I've always been comfortable around you and I've always felt like I can tell you everything then shared the comfortable silence throughout our long drive. And now, I cant help but to wonder how you've been. Or whether you're on your dark days. 

To be frank, I loved you. I've told you that, but I didn't think you see how much-which is understandable because I'm not good at expressing myself in this department. God, did you even realize how much it kills me knowing that  you've lied and deceived me? That you've been using me just to fulfill your 'needs'? I hate myself for cutting us off just like this. But I can't bear the pain of being your friend after what you've done, and knowing that I can't be with you. Because you're with her. And the fact that I can see that you've been good to her. You made her happy. And I thank you for that. People often blame the other woman but have they been placing themselves on their shoes, knowing that no matter how big the effort they made, it is always painful to know the truth that they're not the first or second choice, but they're not even a choice? No one should be in that position voluntarily. 

At one point, it's just hard to think of not talking to you and having this overly passionate conversation about anything. But time heals all wounds, Now, I'm in my happy place. I've moved on, but I dont want to experience that vicious cycle again. I may not ready to face you now, but someday I will be. And I hope things are still alright between us at that time. I just hope that we made peace with ourselves. I know that I said that we couldn't be friends again, but honestly, I wish that we can have that kind of connection again--you know being good friends and all. I really wish our path cross in the future. Because, it really is such a great loss for me to lose someone who understand me on that level. At least we're on the same page on that.

Sincerely, from someone who wishes you to always see the sunshine, even when you're on you darker days. 

Imagine smiling after a slap in the face. Then think of doing it twenty-four hours a day.- Markus Zusak, the Book Thief

It's funny how life works.

I used to be proud of myself. Of my armor. Of my logic. Claiming that I actually use my brain to actually feel. That I certainly would not dive first, unlike other people, where you will most likely be left hurt and scarred. That I would not give myself that easily to anyone out there. That I have successfully made a fortress that would not easily be cracked. That I would be careful.

But life smacks me right down on my face. It challenges me with my ultimate weakness, the feeling of comfort. And boy, did I dive right in without processing any of this.

I don't know if that's your forte, making people comfortable with you. Or that we're just compatible with each other(which I actually like to think, sometimes). Or the time you said that there's something in me that comforts you, where even in the moments of silence, you've never felt like you're supposed to say something, but rather comforted by those silence. Or maybe the fact that we have a huge common interests-- to the point where we have the same type of trash-conversation. 

You displayed your stories on the plate right away. Your life. Your problem. Your episodes. Your past and experiences. So I told you mine. Not very eventful, I guess compared to yours. But you seem very interested, so I kept on going, giving you tidbits of my stories, while subconsciously destroying my own fortress bricks by bricks.

Then you hold my hand. I'd be lying if I say that it did not give any butterflies, or made me think whether or not you feel my heart beating loud and hard against your arm. Then you made me drunk with your hugs and kisses, that is oddly comforting. Suddenly I found myself craving for your hugs. And snuggles. And hands. Add the fact that you said that you like me a lot. I know that it can be a potential bullshit, but it did not even came to my mind at the time you said it. And that's the time that I realize that I've trusted you enough to let you in over the shield, fortress and everything that I've tried so hard to built.  

But somehow you did. I'm not sure how this would end, but thank you. For making me feel the most beautiful, complicated, and even possibly destructive feeling known to mankind.