'Maybe it's not the ending. Maybe it's the story.'

I was driving myself back to my mom's house with all of my clothes squeezed in the backseat, my shoes in the trunk and my bags sitting at the passenger seat when I promised myself to never go back to that town, to our home we both created ever again. It was painful seeing myself leave and each time i passed by grocery stores we used to shop at, restaurants we both love and coffee shops we used to lounge in, it just kept on getting more painful. I wiped off my tears and held it back for a while whenever I stopped at a red light because I didn't want to leave other people wondering how sad I was because I don't think anybody would really know how much somebody else is hurting. But I was wrong, nobody looked my way, and if anybody did, he wouldn't see me from the dark anyway, and if anybody had, he just probably went on with his life when the light said go. And I had to keep moving too.

I reached home before daylight but I stayed at the parking lot until midday just wondering if I had made the right decision, chain-smoking and listening to songs that somehow calmed me down. By calmed me down, I meant cry all my sorrows. Some people stared but that didn't matter anymore. What mattered was that I was hurt and I can fucking cry when I need to regardless of anything.

I finally decided to go inside the house and my dad was there ready to welcome me again. I felt relieved somehow to see a very familiar face from the three-hour drive I had. He didn't ask me what happened. He already knew when he saw my eyes.

'Jaa, dokka ikou ka?' he said cheerfully.

I told him that I didn't want to go anywhere and that I just wanted to be alone in my room. And that was the worst decision I have ever made. As I entered my bedroom, half of the things that were there reminded me of him. The pictures on the wall, the 3D glasses we bought on our first movie date, the first bouquet of flowers he gave me that had already dried, the 500 coin bank that was already half full for our hawaii trip, the books he bought for me, the star projector he got me for our first monthsary... I couldn't stop crying not because I was sad I lost him to someone else but because he really made me happy. Even if he left me completely broken, I am forever in debt for the two years of happiness he gave me. And that's what makes it even more sad. I can't pay him back anymore because all this time I thought I had a lifetime to do it. My mom, though, said I've done enough.

'I'm sure you've made him happy too' she added.

I hope so. I really hope so. But I still can't stop asking why it happened and what went wrong. And for the most part, my questions are still left unanswered. If you want to keep your sanity, i guess it's better to leave your questions unanswered.

<3Manganese