I was thinking of him the other night. Remembering the days when we had our special times; when everything was fine and happy, when he cared for me. He was my superhero! He was there when no one came. He was there when everyone was buzy.
Trying hard to sleep, but the memories of us kept running through my mind. A close friend of his told me that he was proud of me, for the things I did which actually didn’t mean much to me. The day he says he was like a superhero after sending me to school. When he walked down the road alone, not telling me, not wanting me to worry.
Looking at him, all I could do was to pray for him to get better. Suffering when awake, worrying when asleep. I need to be strong. I will do whatever I can. I can’t hide these feelings anymore. I shouldn’t have done that in the first place. The only way to get over this is to get through it. I went through it once; I know I can go through it again. I have to believe that.
Im just a little bit caught in the middle. It is scary. And it’s making everything so hard. Just touching his hand is a challenge for me. Coward is eating up my heart.
I have to force myself to do it. In the end, it doesn’t matter what I’ve done, it doesn’t matter what’s the outcome. It’s the breaking of my comfort zone, the willingness, and the process that matters. I love you.
Hasta La Vista
