THE ONLY DIFFERENCE

UNEDITED SAMPLE LITERARY ARTICLE
By Karenina Isabel Apilado Lampa
IV - Michael Faraday


“Can you at least listen to me?!”

He stared at me for the last time, before leaving me all alone. As I stared at his retreating figure, I slowly felt realization hit me. No matter how hard I’d try to hide from the truth, I knew it.

From now on, things would be different.

He’s always been expressive of his emotions. I never had a hard time trying to decipher what he wanted, or what he did not like. No matter how much trouble his being expressive had caused, I always thought of it to be a good thing. Being used to expressing what you felt meant you could never hide anything. And I knew it, if he wanted to tell me of something wrong he had done, or if he wanted to tell me how much he cared, or if he wanted to make me feel so bad of myself because of something I did that offended him.

It simply meant that there were no secrets between us. He trusted me, and I fully trusted him. So it took me by complete surprise when he started to avoid me at times, deflecting questions which would have usually been very easy to answer.

“I love you.”

His eyes flickered away from mine almost unnoticeably, before he returned his gaze at me. He reached for my hand and squeezed it in his.

“I love you too.”

He was possessive. Well, fine. That’s the understatement of the year. He was utterly, absurdly, infinitely possessive. There were times when it annoyed me to death, because even the slightest word exchange with a random guy would send him into bursts of fits. We would have arguments over it, but I never told him the one thing that I never let anyone know. Surprisingly, I loved his being possessive. It made me feel that he never wanted to lose me, and he didn’t want to risk any chances. No matter how much it would irritate me, deep inside, I knew that his possessiveness made me feel secure.

It simply meant that he wanted to hold on tight and to never let go. It made me feel how much he needed me, and I loved that feeling. So it left me in a cold, dark place, when he stopped fighting for me, and instead, learned how to make me feel so wrong of myself. He knew ways of making me feel so unfaithful, and I hated it. I was confused to no end, because all I did was try to hold on, but instead, it made me look like I’ve committed infidelity. I didn’t understand why, and it killed me.

“I love you.”

He looked down at his feet. He reached for my hand and held it.

“I love you too...”

We were probably the only ones who would keep on fighting endlessly, and never got tired of it. We fought over the most trivial of things. It was stupid, and it was foolish. Both of us were swallowed up in our own pride that one never felt the need to step down for the other. It was a competitive relationship, but it didn’t bother me. It was us, and that was all that mattered.

The good thing about our arguments was that it never lasted that long. It was for the sake of keeping the relationship alive and breathing, and we knew it. By the end of the day, one of us would end up apologizing, only to be followed immediately by the other. The weird thing is, no matter how much I’d say that I’m tired of it, subconsciously, I craved for our arguments. After every storm, the rainbow would come. I loved the rainbow so much, that I didn’t mind going though storms day after day.

The day that I went through the storm and never got my rainbow, was the day I knew that something changed. We still kept on bickering with each other, but soon, he learned how to let the day end without resolving our arguments. And as I tossed and turned in bed, waiting for a text message that would never come...unable to sleep knowing that we were sporting a grudge towards each other, I soon realized that I was left to be the only one troubled.

“I love you.”

He reached for my hand and held it for a second, and he let it go before turning his back on me.

“...I love you too...”

And it took me so long to realize that things were not what they used to be. It hurt like hell to know that I never wanted to leave the past behind. But I soon realized that the memory of the past was what kept killing me.

Soon, all things that reminded me of his love stopped. No more goodnight text message with exaggerated expressions of his undying love. No more prolonged goodbyes over the phone, never wanting to be the one to hang up first. No more hardships over looking away from the other. No more talking or bonding during the free hours that we’d get in school, spending it away unproductively but happily, knowing that we were with each other.

And lastly, no more of his sincere I love you’s, that never failed to make me fall in love with him over and over again.

He learned to turn his back on me and walk away from me. He learned how to never look back. He learned how to never return.

The sad part is that I just can’t walk away. He knows that if he does look back, I’d still be there.

And never once, did the intention of leaving cross my mind. Up until now, though foolishly, I still hold on to the hope that someday, he’d return. It had been my fault why he learned to leave me, and I know it. I was wrong to ever take the things important to me for granted, and I’ve never learned to fully let someone know how big a part they play in making me have a reason to breathe each day.

That is, until he left me. And the moment I realized all of the mistakes I’ve done, it was also the moment when he decided to move on.

As of today, things are still quite the same. I still love him with all of my being.

The only difference now is that, he doesn’t love me back anymore.

“I love you.”

He turned his back and walked away from me, leaving me to weep for the loss of the one thing that keeps me alive.

“...”