Unheard Symphony

Love,

I know you aren't thinking of me anymore but I thought I would still say hi from the place where I am sitting right now.

I'm sitting at the balcony, holding this book I am not so engrossed at reading while looking at the busy streets below. I see how people tried so hard just so they can make a living. Fathers went fishing early at dawn while mothers are busy doing the laundry, and preparing breakfast for their children who will be going to school.

I see the motorcycle drivers trying to find even a single passenger for a ten peso coin. I see the dog barking all day just to be attended by its Master. I see it all with bare eyes, because I lie here at the balcony more often, to think of you.Weird, isn't it? It started weird indeed, but I guess it has become a habit.

How have you been doing lately? Are you still busy with school works and stuff? You told me about your busyness so many times before, and I understood then, I still understand now. How long has it been by the way?

Oh, I remember. Ten months, right? Ten months since you left without even uttering a word. Ten months since I started questioning myself, "what happened?" Ten months of unanswered questions, of unreturned calls, of unreplied text messages. Ten months of confusions, of sleepless nights.

It's been ten months since you chose to write a new chapter of your story leaving behind an important character. Important, eh? I really thought that description suits me. You told me about that, remember? Or should I say, you made me feel that way..that I was important--that I was the ink in the pen you're holding every time you would want to scribble a verse, that I was the melody of the tune you are humming, that I was your Hermione, a bookish muggle you can't take your eyes off, that I was the nymph of whom you, the shephered, has been waiting for a year to reply.

That was me, ten months ago, or so I thought. Well, what else could I do, then? You made me believe I was important. You made me feel you're less like you without me but I guess I was wrong. I guess I made a complete fool out of myself upon believing that I mean something to you. That I play an important role in every chapter of your story.

So I sit here, every day. I sit here contemplating as to why we've turned out this way. I ask myself what had gone wrong. What did I do? What happened in between June 18 and 19 that I wasn't aware of? But I guess these questions will never be answered too soon.

Just as you never made a move to explain something to me why you're gone, why you left so suddenly, I know you won't also take a step to tell me you've already found a replacement to the role I once played. "Too soon?" I asked our common friend when she hinted me. "Soon?" She replied emphasizing the word. "It's been twelve months my dear, when will you stop wasting your time to a man who is both coward and selfish? Wake up!"

Wake up. Very simple words, easy to comprehend. But why does it seems so hard to do? I tried waking up from this nightmare so many times. I tried maneuvering my senses for me to become normal again.

I tried reading some books, and scribbling some verses just as I used to before you came in and introduce that "wizard with his broomsticks in one hand and owl in the other."

But I guess, my Professor was right, "old habits are hard to forget," because up until this very hour I'm still snoring, asleep; still holding at the very thought that you would still come back and continue trudging the journey we have started together.

I am still holding on to the love I feel for you because deep down my very core is a voice that always whispers, "this love is too beautiful to be thrown away."

I know you aren't thinking of me anymore, but here I am still hoping that deep down at the very bottom of your heart lies a memento of me and of our love that never lasts.

I'm still wishing that one day you would think of me and the role I once played in your story, and your mind will bring you back old memories of a silly bibliophile who once loved and would still love to tell you stories before you drift to sleep at night.