I looked down on the cup I held in my hands and felt the coffee getting warm to cold. I stared at it at she babbled on about her week. I tried to listen but my mind is elsewhere until she yelled my name and I had to look up and pretend I was listening when I was hardly there.
She sighed as she watched me, clueless of what to say or how to react, then she smiled and said:
‘It’s okay. I understand he crosses your mind constantly. I know you get upset when he doesn’t reply to your texts instantly. I saw the look on your face when you looked at your phone a while back; you were lightly disappointed.’
I chuckled and was about to deny when she cut me off before I could open my mouth.
‘No, don’t deny it. You love him. I will never know why you do, for I never met the man, but I think I might like him. Though if he makes you feel so insecure and if you’re seeing no future then stop seeing him.’
I took a deep breath and shook my head lightly. ‘It’s not that easy, ma. I have tried my best to just walk away, never look back and never reply to his messages but I guess I caught feelings. Too much of it, I think.’
‘But love is never enough, my dear.’ She said softly, her eyes getting warm and cozy like the warm cup in my hands.
‘If he has no intention of being your constant as each day changes, then you must leave him. If you don’t see yourself being with him for the rest of your life, better step out of the frame.’ She continued and I looked away; I stared out the café window and mindlessly watched the people passing by and I pondered lightly. She’s right, for all I know one of these faces are willing to be my constant, willing to commit to me, willing to give his heart and share his life with me.
But as each smiling face catches my eye, I grow sadder thinking that he can never be that person. How I wish I know how to shut these feelings down and how I so wish that I could just turn away from him and never look back, never think of him again.
But as unfortunate as today’s weather, I could not get myself to not think of him. To not worry about him, not to care about him and unlove him. Sometimes, I loathe myself for falling for the wrong man, but then again, I think of the short moments we shared and how I felt happy for a few seconds before I sink back into the shitty reality that he will never look at me like I look at him. He will never feel how I feel about him, and that fucking hurts.
Yet at the back of my mind, I still hold on to the make-believe future that he will learn to love me back and be the man I want him to be for me. I felt my eyes welling up as I imagined him looking at me like I’m the only thing that mattered in his world but silent tears eventually fell on my cheeks as I emerged to the reality that he will never love me.
‘Love is never enough, my child.’ My mother said softly. ‘You can’t love and expect they’d love you back, no. Loving and being loved in return rarely happen these days. Don’t force things and most importantly, never force people. I honestly would like him for you if he made you feel this way for you don’t often fall in love unless he has a beautiful soul. But if he only breaks your heart for not thinking of even committing to you then walk away, make him set you free. If you’re always on the edge, worrying if he’s seeing someone else or talking to some other bimbo, then walk away. No matter how hard it is. No matter how impossible and heart-breaking as it seems. Walk away. Otherwise endure the pain of being with someone who could never love you back and could never commit to you.’
I nodded lightly as I raised the cup to my mouth and pretended to sip from it. I set the coffee down and picked up my phone. I saw his name with an excerpt from some random message he sent… I realized that he will never bombard my inbox everyday with nauseating love notes, or how much he missed me and how badly he wants to be with me… He will never say he loves me or call me his wife, his sun and moon, his eternity… No. He will never. So I put the phone back down and decided not to reply.
‘You’re right, ma. I will try my best to forget him.’ And though I meant it, I know deep inside that afterwards I’d still talk to him, see him and have my heart broken in every brief rendezvous.
Love is never enough, I know. I understand completely. But how do you teach a loving heart to harden itself and to forget the one who made it beat again after being dormant for so long?