i don’t want the world. i learned it the hard way. i wish i could go back. i am desperate to undo things. it’s too late to say things like love and need when i’ve been too much of a hypocrite to not care. i want you. and you alone can suffice this emptiness that i now feel. and you alone can heal my loneliness.

i don’t want the world darling. i am not one of those people i thought i was and i thought i will turn out to be. there’s this cosmic pull in the world that falls upon people who want everything: people who want everything will only end up with empty things. i used to be people of that kind. i now know that i can’t love the world. not for its entirety. my heart can recognize poetry, music and nature to love, and you entirely. and there i rest in contentment. you, for my world’s absoluteness, is more than enough.

i wanted to say happy birthday to you today. like those replays i had in my mind when i used to still dream of you. but all i have on my palm, are these regrets.

and im sorry. i realized that too late.


The worst part is knowing that it was my fault; that I could have done something different—something better. I could have said less and done more. I could have swallowed my pride and chosen my battles with more precision. I could have embraced compromise. I could have spent more time simply enjoying what we had.

But it’s too late, and that is the worst part.